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(repost)
That is what the California Highway Patrol officer said.
We were ensconced in an open garage waiting out an armed 211 suspect when those words were spoken.
My call came in at 2:30. A man was barricaded in his apartment after a shootout with police. At the time, I was home sick with a headache the size of the Rock of Gibraltar. But a barricade is a barricade and I threw on some clothes and rushed to the scene.
I stopped at the road closure and was waved through by one of the CHP guys that yelled, “Hey, I know you....go ahead.”
“OK”
After parking the car where the chippy said I should, I asked our esteemed parking enforcement officer (also known as the Parking Nazi) who was standing guard, where was everything happening and where should I go.
He motioned somewhere down the street towards some low-rent apartment complexes and told me to walk on the right side of the street through a vacant lot - nothing but dirt and a creosote bush.
“OK.”
I kept an eye out for what was going on and watched as the guys from the PD’s Special Response Team ( SRT) moved into place.
“Cool,” thought I and grabbed a few shots of one of the guys creeping across the roof, rifle in front of him, pack behind. I thought, “If I get nothing else this will be good art."
I heard people yelling at me and here comes the PIO from the Barstow Police running across the street telling me that hey, I was right in the line of fire and I should like move.
“OK.”
“Don’t go south of the palm tree,” he said, “that way you won’t be in the line of fire.”
“OK. Can I stand behind the palm tree?”
“Sure,” he said, “but I’m not responsible if you get shot.”
“OK”
Seemed to be my thought processes at the time, singular “OK’s”
I stood behind the palm tree for a little bit and then moved — I really wasn’t in the mood to get shot.
The reporter showed up, a radio guy showed up, a small TV station guy showed up and we all sat around in the heat waiting for something to happen....for a long time.
Negotiators were on the phone, relatives got on the phone to try and talk this guy out. The man had been wounded slightly in the first shootout — shot in the hand and the arm — and yelled out to his friends that he was afraid the cops were going to shoot him on sight.
We all knew that this would never happen, but the guy wouldn’t come out. The cops even brought him cigarettes when he asked for them - actually threw them up to him on the balcony. If they had wanted to shoot him, they could have at that time.
I got permission to wander a bit, down in parking area where the CHP rifle shooters were set up — watched them concentrate completely down their black gun sites. I was close enough that if I stuck my head out I could see the guy’s balcony — really, really well — with bloody curtains swaying in the wind.
Time wore on, heat got worse, men got shifted around so as to give the ones sitting in the sun a break.
We waited. Cops gave me Gatorade and water. It was hot.
As dusk set in I kept hoping this guy would come out with his hands up while I still had light to shoot by. Even with my new digital camera (YEA!) I was still a newbie at using the flash in low light situations so I wanted halfway good light.
I simply couldn’t figure out why this guy would NOT come out.
Was it the macho mentality of the whole gang banger personality? Was it that he knew he was facing some major jail time? He was already a loser in that department. What possibly could be worth prolonging this stand-off?
Time wore on some more. The apartment complex residents started getting restless. Hoots and hollers and jungle-like monkey noises came from the apartments and from those watching and waiting behind the lines. A bottle was thrown.
I have to admit, this made a me a tad nervous. I could just see this thing erupting into an all-out riot. Half the people in the complex were convinced the cops were going to gun the guy down and the other half were afraid of the first half.
Soon the cops had enough waiting and started firing tear gas canisters into the apartment. Oh my! Horrible sound those loud guns. Once that tear gas thing started I didn’t stick my head out any more. I crouched down behind a car. I could still see the CHP shooters but wasn’t in the line of fire.
Good thing.
Several minutes after the first rounds of tear gas were volleyed into the apartment there came three quick shots - pop - pop - pop — out the sliding glass door — over the balcony.
“Holy shit,” thought I, “that guy is firing at us.”
“Hey,” I yelled, “Was he shooting this way.”
“Yes, Lara, he was shooting this way.”
I crouched down lower. Just about fully dark now. The people that had come out to watch were yelling the guy was yelling babies were screaming and one Barstow cop remarked, “I can’t believe these people brought their kids out to a gunfight.”
Law enforcement did not return gun fire but more tear gas was used.
Still no sound, no reaction from the barricaded man.
One of the CHP guys came back down into our spot and said that after the three rounds fired by the suspect, one more shot was heard a few minutes later - muffled. Not aimed out the sliding glass door — inside the building.
He said quietly that he had heard _that_ sound before.
Time was starting to lose meaning. Amidst the noise and chaos I had been on the phone relaying the latest developments to the reporter who had gone back to write his story. More tear gas was lobbed into the building but the feeling was that the man had offed himself with that final fourth shot.
My deadline to leave was fast approaching — close to 9 p.m. I had the images from the afternoon’s deployment and some close-ups of the guys close to me. But no resolution. No closure.
The crowd up the street was really starting to turn ugly and I debated going up to photograph that, but figured that a camera flashing would trigger the already riotous behaviour that was growing.
Two guys threw bottles at the sheriff’s SWAT team. Ooooh, not a good idea. Those SWAT-dudes are bad-asses with attitudes and guns. They do NOT take kindly to being pelted with bottles. The bottle-throwers were arrested and the crowd scene cooled after that.
No lights were on in the apartment, no movement was seen and all negotiations had long since broken off. The man’s last words and comments to the negotiator were pretty much that the only way he was going to leave was in a body bag.
I still hoped not, but I left to file my art. Before I left the center of the action, which is where I had been allowed to stay (don’t ask me why, I was just allowed to stay.) I made sure the police chief and one of the LT’s knew I was returning and wanted to be back close to where things were happening.
“Sure.” they said, “Just show your press pass, tell whoever we said it was ok and come on back - stay out of the line of fire.”
“OK”
I left, filed the creeping-across-the-roof pic and one of two officers and a bullet proof shield and came back.
Things were as I left them — no more noise, no more nothing.
About 11 p.m. the sheriff's office took over. The Barstow PD SRT and CHP back-ups had been on duty squinting down their sites for almost 8 hours, it was time for a relief team.
I watched the camouflaged SWATs come in, dash about the courtyard smashing out the remaining lights that would put them in danger and get into place, covering each other with guns pointed toward the apartment as they ran across the courtyard.
I couldn’t help myself, I thought “Jeez, this is just like in the movies.” Only this time it was for real — surrealistic, but real.
When the Barstow guys and CHP left I was still standing there all by my lonesome. One of them yelled back at me, “You probably ought to come out too.”
“OK.”
That seemed like a good idea to me — it was dark and I didn’t like being alone.
I came up out of the garage hole and plopped down on the front of a fire truck. Sheriff’s homicide detectives were wondering who the hell was I and why was I there. I smiled, introduced myself and sat back quietly on the fire engine, hoping that no one would actually notice me. I even put my camera down.
The sheriff’s Captain saw me, smiled and let me stay. I was now considered a “friendly.” Cool.
I had kept in contact with the night editor at our sister paper, even after the Dispatch went to bed, did some interviewing, got the correct on-the-record-quotes that supported the police’s version of what happened and waited — and waited.
For almost an hour after the SO took over a deputy called out over a loud speaker. “Aaron. Come out with your hands up. The building is surrounded.” Every few minutes for almost an hour. Over and over. The same tone of voice. No emotion. It could have been a computerized recording it was so precisely repeated, but it wasn’t.
Aaron didn’t come out.
Talking time was up and the SWAT team started in with more powerful tear gas. Volley after volley. No Aaron. He was either immune to the gas or dead.
Soon the team took out the doors and entered the building using flash-bang devices before going into each room - “auditory and visual distractions” they call them.
Hell honey, those are bombs.
Every time they said over the radio they were setting off another one, all the law enforcement guys, suits, SWAT dudes, everybody around me, put their fingers in their ears. I wish I had photographed that, but it is hard to hold a camera with your fingers in your ears.
Time moved faster, soon after the SWAT guys entered they called for the SO medics that had flown in on a chopper. Word came out fast that it was over, Aaron was dead from a self-inflicted gunshot wound to the head.
It was one o’clock in the morning. There was almost a palpable sigh, a slumping of the shoulders when it was over. I had been at the scene for almost ten hours.
It was not a good resolution. Not the one that everyone; law enforcement, medics, firefighters, friends and family had hoped for.
I remembered what the CHP shooter said after word came in about the fourth shot — “We are in a stand-off with a dead man.”
He was right.
•••••••••••••
Rest in Peace Aaron
“Write it on your heart that every day is the best day in the year.”
― Ralph Waldo Emerson
Beautiful..fantastic sunrise that was worth every second of waiting for. :)
Poznan, Poland
Winter
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Write Like A Girl ~ The Coffee Hub ~ Waterloo ~ London ~ England ~ Friday September 20th 2019.
www.flickriver.com/photos/kevenlaw/popular-interesting/ Click here to see My most interesting images
Purchase some of my images here ~ www.saatchiart.com/account/artworks/24360 ~ Should you so desire...go on, make me rich..lol...Oh...and if you see any of the images in my stream that you would like and are not there, then let me know and I'll add them to the site for you..:))
You can also buy my WWT card here (The Otter image) or in the shop at the Wetland Centre in Barnes ~ London ~ www.wwt.org.uk/shop/shop/wwt-greeting-cards/european-otte...
Have a great Monday Y'all..:)
What I write may appear self-indulgent and it is true that journaling our family accomplishments is a little cathartic. I do, however, share our story primarily to create awareness. Through that awareness, I hope in some small way to play a part in the enhancement, acceptance and understanding of those health conditions which so often attract prejudice and ridicule. Not just the prejudice against the individual who suffers from Epilepsy, Autism, Hydrocephalus, paralysis, and many other conditions, but also the people who care for them.
This community of people have so much to offer to society if only society would take a moment to listen and understand and not turn their back and walk away. In the modern world materialistic wealth and a limit on time outweighs emotional wealth and compassion. Eyes glued to mobile devices prevent a person from seeing a person in distress and keep walking on by, oblivious to that need. My words, I hope, will go some way to encouraging thought and maybe even a desire to see those struggles we walk past.
Our son is struggling. Multiple and complex mix of conditions that are not easily supported. It takes time. It means an absence from interacting with a life we once had until he is calm. I know many who will read this will understand us and already support us so much. To those of you who do understand, I need you to know that we are eternally grateful for your support and your encouragement, your friendship and even your love. Others may visit and pass by without such understanding. I have no complaints about that, I have no right to. Maybe a moment to read about our journey and to understand why we do not consistently engage with the world may be rewarding in some way.
Our son has been prescribed additional medication for his epilepsy. The reaction has not been good. The daily seizures he was having, continue. These are now accompanied by additional traits. Over the past few weeks, we have been giving him this additional medication, his mind, his memory, his awareness, and even his beautiful character has been affected, and not in a good way. So many people will pass by either in total ignorance of him even being there, struggling, or pass by with some derogatory comment or complaint. We steel ourselves against such behaviour. We can take it even though we should not have to. But we protect our son with a passion. That protection means greater isolation, not inclusion …
The skyline shot from 18th Street overlooking CN's Freeport Sub, and the Saint Charles Air Line was a must shoot on this recent trip to Chicago. With only a few freights to ply these rails a day, catching any westbound here had to matter.
Westbound CN M337, lead by a pair of BNSF ES44's, slowly trundle down the main on the near track as it curves out of the 16th Street interlocking just around the corner. Granted the right of way was overgrown, and the power wasn't anything to write home about, but a train is a train. I'll chalk this up as a win.
This is a photo album with ~145 photos of the Cobb family from Kalispell, Montana from about 1912 - 1940. Of those, about 25 of them were loose in the pages, not glued down. Although predominantly Cobb, other surnames mentioned of friends and family are Getz and Edwards. First names of those pictured, coupled with their surnames (when provided), are listed below. Thank you to whoever it was that took the time to write out all the names.
Clyde Cobb
Thelma Cobb
Arlene Cobb
Grace Cobb
Mable Maude Cobb
Wally Getz
Shirly Getz
Tom Edwards
Millie Edwards
Burton (Burt) Edwards (Tom's son)
Mary Rollin
Jim
Wilbur
Vera
Rita
Eldora
June
Dogs:
Wolf
Topsy
Ranger
Hope to get this album back to the family (or families) it belongs to. It was found at an estate sale in Tacoma, Washington on 2/22/25.
Why am I collecting these?? See group description HERE.
Active Assignment Weekly - monthly assignment: Window shopping. A shop on Queen Street West.
119 in 2019: Window shopping
Writing Spider.
Argiope aurantia is a species of spider, commonly known as the yellow garden spider, writing spider, and other names.
Gevonden in Den - Haag, op de Denneweg. Heerlijke straat om te winkelen. Veel antiek, curiosa en galerieën.
Lenticular clouds like these generally precede storm systems. As I write this the Midwest is preparing for a significant winter weather system on the heels of this atmospheric condition. With the downward slope into the high plains Lafeyette, and Broomfield are situated close enough to the foot of the front range to catch that open notch of sun when it comes through the open edge of the clouds over the mountains. What is left is this intense spotlight for 30 minutes to an hour in this case close as we are to the solstice after 3:45 when the light becomes that warm gold and its intensity just like a summer thunderstorm darkens the sky behind. Great stage light for our actors to display their act, up next the drop after dark. These lenticular shelf’s will hang out all day, a signal to go find a subject. I really enjoy the Buck Wheat, it’s at the heart of the whole play, without these short lines and branches mainline action simply would not exist.
23/365
I had a really interesting conversation with my dad yesterday about how he reckons there are more people interested in what I say than what I photograph, or at least that he is more interested in what I say than what I photograph. I said he was being ridiculous because I cannot write for toffee, and what I write under my photos is just a stream of my consciousness – I am literally just transcribing my thoughts, or some of my thoughts. I do not know if I can explain this right, but in my head it is like I am sat in a room with no light and a whole load of radios and those radios are all tuned into different stations, some with strong connections and some with weak, crackly connections. My thoughts are the words that are being spoken and the pieces of music being played. I do not see anything in my head, I just hear things. Does that make sense? It does to me.
We also had a conversation about how I am able to predict things with scary accuracy, like how I can predict which cyclists will not turn up to a race, or what someone says before they say it. I do not do it consciously, I just make mistakes that turn out not to be mistakes. Except for weather. I am good at guessing what the weather will be like. And traffic, too. Dad reckons my brain is five minutes ahead of time. I think that is crazy talk, but it would make sense of a lot of things.
font: Russell Write
See more in My Dahlia set
See more in my set Insects
isaac watts
How doth the little busy bee
Improve each shining hour,
And gather honey all the day
From every shining flower!
Someday I'll write Squad Stories again, for the six of you wondering. Heh.
Got kinda tired of my painted big-fig Shark, as he's kind of crumbling for some reason and his head was always weird. Thus I thought I'd try my hand at brick-building a better one. He's a bit bigger than I would have liked but it works okay I think.
The base is Steppenwolf, the head is a shark jaw over an Atlantis diver helmet, and the rest, naturally, is bricks. He does have a shark fin, it's just hard to see cause this thing is stupid hard to photograph.
I also updated El Diablo with paint and new parts cause I got tired of him always looking just a little off. Floyd is Floyd, Eric is Eric, and Harley has her stupid capes now.
Also shout-out to Gallisuchus for his contributions in regards to the upper-body structure. What a weird sentence.
Lemme know what you think!
...I'd put U and I together :)
Haha, don't know if this has been done before (it probably has) but I was bored and I thought it was a cute idea.
So I hope it made you smile :)
Song: www.youtube.com/watch?v=j44-GTlOU6k
I've gotten so many views on this one, thank you all very much! :)
(And explore position #55 too! :) )
A replacement Bolingbroke Mk IVT was rebuilt to flying status in just five years and painted to represent a Blenheim Mk IV in RAF wartime service. It began appearing at air shows and exhibitions in the UK, flying since May 1993 and was used in the 1995 film version of Shakespeare's Richard III. This aircraft crashed on landing at Duxford on 18 August 2003; the crash was feared to have made it a write off.[56] but after extensive repair and conversion to the Mark I "Short nose" version by The Aircraft Restoration Company (ARC) at Duxford, was displayed to the public on 30 May 2014, and first flew for 29 minutes on 20 November 2014, following restoration at the Imperial War Museum Duxford, Cambridgeshire, England.[57] The aircraft appeared in the 2017 Christopher Nolan film Dunkirk.
Full write-up here: theastroenthusiast.com/ngc-6888-the-crescent-nebula/
This is another image from telescope live: the Crescent Nebula. It was a tough dataset to stack, as there were a bunch of dead pixel lines from the CCD. However, once the dataset was stacked, it was quite fun to process. The Oiii data was extremally strong, and it was really interesting to see the extent of the wispiness around the nebula. I’ve been experimenting with a new “natural” pallete made from SHO emissions, and I think it turned out pretty accurate!
NGC 6888, also known as the Crescent Nebula, is a cosmic bubble about 25 light-years across, blown by winds from its central, bright, massive star. It combines a composite color image with narrow band data that isolates light from hydrogen and oxygen atoms in the wind-blown nebula. The oxygen atoms produce the blue-green hue that seems to enshroud the detailed folds and filaments. NGC 6888’s central star is classified as a Wolf-Rayet star (WR 136). The star is shedding its outer envelope in a strong stellar wind, ejecting the equivalent of the Sun’s mass every 10,000 years. The nebula’s complex structures are likely the result of this strong wind interacting with material ejected in an earlier phase. Burning fuel at a prodigious rate and near the end of its stellar life this star should ultimately go out with a bang in a spectacular supernova explosion. Found in the nebula rich constellation Cygnus, NGC 6888 is about 5,000 light-years away.
Website: theastroenthusiast.com/
Instagram: www.instagram.com/the_astronomy_enthusiast/
Photographer Wayne D. Hills writes, “This was a Friday, and as a spare train dispatcher I sometimes had odd days off from work, and this was one of them. It was a gorgeous day, so I headed to East Deerfield to do a little rail fanning. While standing on the bridge at the West end of the yard, when the 1178 showed up with two cars and a buggy, and I turned around to the West side of the bridge to see where they were headed. Yikes! They were headed down to the Turners Falls Branch! I knew of this photo opportunity beforehand, as a couple of friends had taken similar shots. I ran to the car and shot them crossing the Connecticut River, then headed down to find the golf course. Parking out of the way of traffic, I walked up on the bridge over the tracks and waited. And waited... They couldn’t have been doing more than 5 or 10 miles per hour down the branch, and it took quite a while for them to show up.
“I was hoping for a good shot with lots of sun, and luck was with me, although I kept my fingers crossed as a cloud started to cover the sun. I used two cameras that day; a 35mm camera with slide film, and also a medium format camera, which I usually used with black and white negative film, but this day I had slide film in that camera as well. The attached scan is from the medium format slide. One of the slides I took that day was published in the book Boston & Maine, Forest, River and Mountain by Robert Willoughby Jones. The date in the book is in error; it should read July 22, 1977, not 1997.”
Photo taken and submitted by Wayne D. Hills. Used with permission. Copyright Wayne D. Hills. Learn more about the B&MRRHS at www.bmrrhs.org. Photo 1266