Small Town Cop/Big City Crimes {A Man, His Dogs and a Badge}

By Darrel Day, Jr

This is the true to life story of a man that dared to "make a difference" in a world that is unforgiving. Terry became a law enforcement officer to rid the streets of "bad guys." From a small town in Minnesota, Terry Bandemer launched a career that would toss him in to big city crimes. He would go from cop to agent to k-9 handler to sheriff; putting his life on the line each and everyday.
Terry is a highly decorated officer that was shot, stabbed and attacked by criminals normally seen in a big city. His K-9 partners, Major and Sooner tracked and apprehended men bent on breaking the law. He has a day named for him in Minnesota and was recognized by the White House.
If you have ever considered law enforcement as a career, read Terry's stories and see what it truly means to be a "Peace Officer." Terry's stories will have you on the edge of your seat as you follow him and his K-9's all the way to the Mexico border. He was one of two agents that brought back Connie {Sarff} Nelson to Minnesota after her abduction by her estranged husband. Read his story of Connie {Sarff} Nelson, {Stolen Years; A True Story of Domestic Abuse and Survival}, who was abducted naked from her home in the freezing winter of Minnesota and taken to Mexico.
Terry's words will leave you smiling and laughing and crying as he recalls his life as a peace officer. The reality of being a law enforcement agent comes to life in this book. If you have been, might be or have considered law enforcement, this is a book you must read. true crime tales reach out and grab you like no other stories.This IS the true story of a man and his dogs and a badge.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Darrel Day, Jr
• Release date: Aug 17, 2014
• ISBN: 9781310421679

Darrel Day, Jr

Darrel Day has written and published 6 suspense novels titled ‘Abduction’,Penance,Into the Abyss, Four Short Stories of Suspense, Short Order Thrillers and ‘Until Death Do We Meet’. He has published a Sci-Fi novel titled "Ice Changers." He has a series of short stories "Witches of the Forest that includes 4 segments with 2 more in the works."The Forest Has Ears, One More Forever, Salem Village {A Queens Journey} and Betrayal of a Witches Secret. . He has a published a biography for a victim of Domestic Violence titled "Stolen Years {A True Story of Domestic Abuse and Survival}" and a biography of a law enforcement agent. He is the singer/lyrics writer of over 100 songs and has produced a CD titled "SimplyD" that includes 13 of his favorite songs. Darrel has a great passion for the outdoors and spends as much time as life allows at a lake near his home. He considers the inspiration he finds while walking along the shore line immeasurable. He takes what he sees and transfers the scene to the written word. Life experiences have given him the ability to feel what he sees and create a novel from it. Darrel continues to write and is presently working on publishing his fifth segment in his witches series.

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Small Town Cop/Big City Crime

A Man, His Dogs and a Badge

Written By Darrel Day

Smashwords Edition

Copyright 2014 Darrel Day

Dedications:

I would like to dedicate this book to the very special people in my life. These people have touched and influenced my life as well as enriched it. I am thankful that God placed them in my life.

I would first like to dedicate this book to my best friend, who is also my loving wife, Tuffy. What a life we have shared.

I want to dedicate this book to some very special ladies in my life. To my daughters Ashley, Kali and Katlynn, I want you to know that I love you all. I hope that when you read the memories of my life that you will smile.

To my brothers Kevin and Brian {Tubby}; I grew up with you and as I did, I found that you were always there for me. Whether it was watching me succeed in something important to my heart and my life or sharing in my let downs and mishaps, you were there. You were both instrumental in helping me find a hard-nosed approach to the bad guys. My endurance, the never give up attitude and the knowledge that losing was never an option had your guidance written all over it.

I want you to know that a part of both of you was with me every time I made an arrest or encountered a situation that called for a little guidance. Your support was then and always has been very important to me. I feel blessed to have you in my life and even more blessed to have you as my brothers. Thank you for the lessons you taught me and thank you for always supporting me, even when we disagreed.

To Tuffy's parents who have gone on to heaven and family as well as my Grandson Connor and my Granddaughter Kyleigh, please read and share my life here.

A dedication goes out to my mother, Lorraine and to my father, Mink. Thank you for instilling in me the right morals and knowledge of God. Your guidance would and did take me through fire and life and allowed me to make the right choices for life.

To my friends and family not named here, know you are no less thought of. I hope that you will see my story come to life as you read this book.

{This is a very special note to my precious Mom. I never shared a lot about my career with you because I knew you would worry every single night if you knew some of the things I dealt with. I am sure you worried anyways but I did try to shield you from some of it. Do me a favor and pour yourself a nice glass of wine before you sit down to read of my life's events.}

To Those That Inspired Me

Before I tell you about my life, I want to add this special page. Although so many were responsible for the Terry Bandemer that you will read about, I would be remiss in not giving a place to these people. They inspired me and mentored me and they stood by me always. We touched each other’s lives in some way that left lasting impressions. I write about them here, at the beginning because without them having been a part of my life, I would have so much less to tell you. If you see their names multiple times then trust me, they are worthy of the mentions.

Sherriff Dave Kircher was a good man. He was a mentor and helped me learn that there was more to being a cop than just a badge. Because he went the extra mile to be as good as he could, he inspired me to do the same. I watched as he climbed the ladder of law enforcement. I saw him become a great leader and a great friend. Whatever he did, I wanted to do a little bit better. I don’t know if I ever achieved that but I do know that he was the reason that I tried harder.

Wes Klema, my investigating partner changed my life in many ways. He was the voice in my head that told me I could be anything I wanted to be. He talked me into going for the county job. He pushed me to find my way into the K-9 unit. From that shove came one of the greatest partners I would ever know. How could I know that a dog named Major was going to be so gigantic in my world? Wes was a smart man and should have been a doctor. He had the know-how to be anything he wanted to be.

Everyone we deal with has stupid in them, Terry.

Even us, Wes?

We are here doing this; putting our lives on the line every day. We could have done something different but we chose this career. Does that answer your question?

Pat Johnston, one of the best narcotics cops I ever worked with taught me how to survive. He showed me that the intensity of a situation was only as bad and dangerous as we allowed it to be.

Eric Jache and Whitey were there no matter when I called or what I needed.

There was Brad Barker who did such a good job showing me the ropes of investigating deeper into the cases I was on.

Steve Och was another man I am glad I had the chance to work with. He and I worked so closely and so well that our wives thought we should have married. Ha, ha ladies.

Toby Eidsmoe helped me when I was near the end of my career in administration. He was one of those guys that you wanted to work with your entire career. He was twenty years younger than me and I retired but not before teaching me how to be a better administrator.

Dallas Block was a man that you wanted beside you when things got scary. He was a multi-tasker and could help you, save you and pray for you… all at the same time.

Thank you to a man that I never worked side by side with but spent hours and hours squeezing all of the wisdom out of that I could. He was a living legend when I got to Roseaue. Retired Sheriff Knochenmus, you were a mother lode of knowledge for me. Sherriff his entire career; need I say more?

My closest friend and brother-in-law, Don Burns {Jaws} always had my back. Through hundreds of felony arrests, he never once let me down. I will always have his back. He introduced me to Tuffy, his sister who later became my wife, my number one partner and my very best friend forever.

If a man can have more than one best friend forever, I did. Anyone that has ever known me would agree that there was one that stood out in a crowd. He inspired me and drove me and protected me. He saved my life and would have laid down his life for me without hesitation. He did things that no man would have ever done and earned my greatest respect. There simply are not enough words to be said. He is forever missed and always loved and if you heard my name… you heard his too. I may have been named Top Cop in ’92 but he was Top Cop from 1990 to 2000. Major, you were the very best.

Prologue

A man's mother, dear to his heart and soul, sits her family down to talk one night. She gives them that soft smile they have grown to know as their comfort place. She speaks in a gentle tone and makes eye contact, though very briefly, with each one of her children. They listen intently to every word she speaks as they have always done. No longer babies, although a couple of them still teens; none of them have decided yet what they will do with their lives.

They now watch their mother reach out and take their father’s hand. He smiles tenderly at her and nods his reassurance. She begins to speak again, telling them of a visit she has made to her doctor. She tries to explain as gently as she can but her words bring tears to all of them. Fear and anger and confusion mix quickly with disbelief and sadness. There is nothing that can be done and she asks only that they look after one another when she has gone to heaven.

I wish with all of my heart I could stay is her only answer to their pleading. She holds each of them in her arms and consoles them as best as she can. The older children seem to understand but the youngest does not and refuses to take the they just don’t know enough yet as a reason for his mother dying. He struggles with her sickness daily and when she does die, he is angry and sad and alone; and so very lost.

I am going to be a doctor one day he tells his siblings and father. I will help save people’s lives and do research until I find a cure for the disease that took my mama away. His mother’s death gave him reason to be a Doctor.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The story you just read was not about Terry Bandemer. It was not about any member of his family in any way. This is a story about a man’s life that encompasses a lifetime of near death and struggles and love and interactions with killers and thieves and kidnappers, to name just a few. The man behind these words also chose a career that would carry him through his life. The previous story talked of a young boy that grew to be a doctor and researcher. He chose a place that he would be useful and save lives. People’s lives and welfare were in his hands.

Terry would also choose a career that would place people’s lives and their very survival in his hands. He would see things and do things that would cause him to stand out in a crowd. He would be decorated for his services and come face to face with people that made the world; Terry’s home town and those that he grew up with, become safer just because Terry put criminals behind bars. As his story unfolds, you will come to know the child that became a teenager and the teen that became a man. You will find the reasons that he put his life on the line daily, sometimes for people he did not even know.

Before we get too far into his story, take a look at some of Terry’s life. See what he loved as a young boy and some of the events that caused him to become a law enforcement officer. Walk through his life and feel the things that he felt as he grew into a man. Like the young boy whose mother died and caused him to pursue a career in the medical profession, Terry followed his heart and became a husband, a father, a best friend to many and a life saver to more than just a few. Here is his story.

Chapter 1

Me and the gang {Family and Friends}

I want to thank you for taking the time to read my story. As I share with you the events of my adventurous life, I promise to tell you the whole truth and nothing but the truth. That seems to be a simple task but the problem is… the truth can hurt. I will steal a line from one of my favorite cop shows as I was growing up. It seems like the right thing to do.

The names have been changed to protect the innocent. That line was at the beginning of Dragnet; a show from the 60’s and 70’s that I watched a lot. I am fairly certain that I have seen every single episode at least two dozen times. I would have added to that statement had it come out during the time I was very active with the force. To protect the innocent, the stupid, those claiming to be ignorant to the laws and the scared and uncertain, would have filled out that line.

I suspect that I should start at the beginning. What seems all too often like a thousand years ago… sometimes feels like only yesterday. I was born Terry Lee Bandemer, the son of Elton Mink and Lorraine Quast Bandemer. I was born in the fourth month, on the fourth day and the fourth day of the week and I was the fourth person in my family. That works out to be April 4th, 1962 in my book. Just to satisfy your curiosity; No, my favorite number is not four. I was born in Glencoe, Minnesota in 1962.

You will find that I will be using a lot of nicknames. I came from a small town where nearly everyone had a nickname. I don’t know that there was any particular reason why they did. I guess that was just the way that it was for my town. The fours being all through my birth-date were not the only things that seemed strange but real. Life seemed to enjoy finding reason to bring laughter into the events of my world. That is not a bad thing in any way.

I spent a few days in the delivery room after my birth. I shared the room with someone that would become a good friend. Each year, we still call one another to remind ourselves that we are in fact another year older. We have remained close throughout the years as seems often the case with small-town friends. Parker, my roomie in the delivery room, was not the only one I shared the room with. We shared the room with a young lady. Well, she was of course a day or two old as we were at the time. She also later became a classmate and Parker and I loved kidding with her all the time. We joked with her that we were the first guys that she ever slept with. We were of course referring to the time we shared sleeping in the delivery room. It looks as if this book could be R rated from time to time.

My family, which encompassed a lot of people, was very close to one another. My parents were both hard workers and they passed that respectable trait on to my brothers and me. It would help to carry us through our lives. Many of my parent’s mannerisms were picked up by my siblings and me. They were good traits and because of them, we gained the respect of those around us. Those traits were going to become extremely important to me in ways I could not have seen back then.

My dad, Mink, as he was called, was a carpenter during the day and at night he laid carpet for homes and businesses. He also drove a snowplow in the winter for our township. He and my brother Kev still drive the plows for the town to this day. My dad has been doing that job for the better part of fifty years now. That staying power and the simply getting things done attitude washed right from my parents on to my siblings and me. That… was not ever a bad thing.

My mother was and still is a wonderful lady. She raised us as best as she could and did a great job. She took care of us four and I know that we were not always easy to handle. She held a job at Plato Woodwork and walked to work every day. She never went for her driver’s license and to this day has no license to drive. That always left me a line to toss when I would pull certain people over to issue them a ticket.

You just like writing out tickets! I bet you would even give your own mother a ticket for speeding. I would look at them and smile as I snapped right back at their comment, knowing what they did not know. I might but she doesn’t have a driver’s license. After that statement I would smile, hand the driver their ticket and nod. Have a good day and drive safe. I am more than certain they did not smile as they drove away but I know that I did.

My mother always made sure that we were well fed and that sometimes could be a job all in itself. We all liked to eat even if it appeared that we did not. We were a bit on the small side when we were younger but as we grew in age, we also grew in size. In the words of my Aunt Dallas, she yelled aloud at us boys, Eat!!!!!!!! Get big!!!!! That is exactly what we did.

My mother taught us to love and to fear God. She taught us to pray and made certain that we did pray every single day. There were times that she had to pretty much force us to go to church. As I grew and matured, I began to understand more why mother made church and God so very important to us. I realized that I was building a special relationship with God. I began going to church with my mother without any force or pushing. That was when I was in the ninth grade so I still had time to grow and learn more.

I prayed daily and I think that a lot of my prayers were about sports and events. I prayed that I would be good at whatever sport I was participating in. I wasn’t always sure that those prayers were the right prayers but I never saw them as anything wrong either. Praying was praying and the most important thing was that I was praying.

My mother influenced my life in deeper ways than she may even know. I guess what she didn’t know before she will know as she reads my story. She taught me the importance of being kind to people, to help them when they needed help, to stay out of trouble and; oh yes, she taught me to always make sure my zipper was up. That one I think was so I didn’t become embarrassed. She touched my growing years in ways that I still use today.

As for my father… well, he taught my brothers and me a lot of very important things too. He taught me that he was tougher than me. It was a fact that would be true no matter how old he got or how big I got. Those words translate not into a fear thing. The words were and still are a way of saying Respect me. My father gave to me the knowledge that respect was something that was earned and when given to someone, it would be returned to you. Perhaps not always; the recipient also needed that same teaching and that wasn’t always so. Now and then, a person had to be treated with a little more of a stern hand for them to respect the authority that was over them. I used dad’s teaching throughout my career as a peace-keeper.

My father would tell my brothers and me that if we wanted to fight, then come fight him. He would educate us in the ways of fighting. Although we still fought one another, Ma rarely told dad and so we didn’t have to face his punishments as often as we probably should have. Thank you for that, Ma. My dad was not gentle when he punished us. That is not to be ripped and misconstrued by today’s politically correct interpretation. I am not saying he beat us or in any way abused us. My father disciplined us and taught us to do right to others and ourselves. When we were being punished, we just simply knew it was going to hurt. It was the way we learned and taught us not to repeat the same thing that got you the punishment the first time. Alright, at least most of the time it did that.

As I look back on my life and the growing years, I am thankful that I had parents that loved me enough to care how I grew up. I am certain that is not how I felt at the time of the punishments but as I matured, my thoughts changed. Having children of my own also opened my eyes and mind. Some of the things we did as kids, I am lucky there was not more discipline. I thank my father for making me the man I am today. He taught me how to take a lickin’ and get up from it. He taught me not to provoke a fight but always defend myself should a fight present itself.

My dad taught me to fight fair and not to use a weapon just to end or win a fight. There were no knives or chains or guns in our fights. Even when we fought at school or after school, we didn’t need guns or knives to fight. We fought and sometimes you won and sometimes you went home to lick your wounds. No matter how it ended, the two sparring both walked away respecting each other and going on with life. Again, it was a lesson learned and carried with me through my career.

You may wonder why I am telling you so much about my growing years. Some of it may seem as if it might have been alright to just jump ahead. I tell you these things because a man or a woman’s past is what formed them. What you deal with in your young years, if it was abuse or poverty or just life being life; it all helps to form and make you the person you are later in life. We make the choice to use the lessons in the way we think is good for us and our lives. I tell you of my past so that you understand why I am who I am and how I have dealt with issues as a law enforcement officer. It gives you insight to where I have been in life.

My dad passed on to me the value of respecting other people’s property. He helped me to understand that people work hard for the things they have in life. Disrespecting their property is the same thing as disrespecting them as a person. It was truly a priceless teaching and one that I used over and over again when dealing with stolen property.

My dad taught me to respect myself too. He wanted me to stay away from trouble and avoid drugs and/or the people that used and sold them. It was important to my father that his kids grew up respected by the people in our town. I wasn’t always happy with the way he pushed on me things that were important to him. It seemed to me that things like respect and people seeing you as someone good would come when we were all adults. Why did we have to make it such a part of our young lives? I know now that waiting until you were an adult and then demanding respect simply was not the way that it worked. It had to be earned and it had to be earned over time.

Looking back at the years and the words of my father, I am still pondering whether I obeyed or disobeyed him. He said to stay away from bad people and to steer clear of the druggies and problem causers. I may not have ever taken drugs nor sold them; I know that I never destroyed anyone’s property or purposely hurt another human just for the sake of doing so. My heart stayed true to the good side of the law but stay away from the drug dealers and law-breakers? I found myself up to my butt in drug dealers and criminals from every walk of life. I chose a career that would not only take me directly down the roads my father wanted me to stay away from; it took me into a world I could not have ever imagined in my youth.

I can hear my father telling me I brought you into this world, and I can take you out of it! If you don’t turn out, I can make more of you. These were not words of hatred or anger. They were words that simply started me out on the right foot. Respect and love was always abundant in our home. My dad and mom never left any doubt in my mind that they loved us and wanted the best for myself and my brothers.

I tell you about me and my youth because without doing so, you have no idea what kind of man I am. I will walk you through the trenches of filth and deceit and open your eyes to a world that has been mine forever, I think. People close their eyes to the things I kept from reaching inside their homes and hurting them. As a law enforcement officer, I went into the nooks and crannies and drug out the ones that hid in the dark, waiting to hurt or steal or kill. To do those things and so much more, I had to rely on the wisdom my parents and youth taught me. Without the learning in my past, my future may have been very different. In fact, my life might have been shorter without the knowledge I gained. And so, I will tell you more about my family and friends and how I became who I am today.

The owner of the woodwork shop where my mother worked was the grandfather of my best friend from kindergarten through third grade. Barry and I did anything and everything that kindergartners could do. We would do wood carving projects but Barry was by far the best woodcarver. His creativity for wood sculpting was amazing back then and followed him throughout his life. School for us was Plato Elementary up through the fourth grade. Barry’s father owned a lumber yard in Plato and Barry and I spent a great deal of time there together. Hanging with Barry helped to keep me out of trouble. His family moved away but Barry grew up to be a famous wood carving artist in Boston. He was always good with carving and wood and I say great job to Barry.

Life for me is one endless class and the world around me is my classroom. I watched, I acted and I reacted to the events that surrounded me daily. Growing up in the town of Plato, Minnesota; population 300, the town was really just one huge playground and a babysitter. Families didn’t worry about things like child abductions or a stranger passing through just to cause issues or hurt someone. I am not saying that we had no crime. That would be a ridiculous statement. I am merely saying that in a town the size of Plato… everybody knew everybody and we all watched out for each other.

I would like to say that I had a normal childhood but the word normal gets lost somewhere in the mix. I don’t even think the word normal can be used if you grew up in Plato. What word can be used is friendship. We all shared a closeness that took us from kids to adults. As I said, Plato was one big playground and a classroom at the same time. I grew up with a lot of friends in the town. We played hard, we fought hard but we always stuck together being from Plato.

There was so much going on for us as kids and we never ceased to find things to keep us occupied. If there was not something to entertain us or to do, we made our own entertainment. Bored was very rarely a word we used as I was growing up. There were simply far too many things to keep us busy. I think that baseball was the most important sport for us. When I was still in Plato Elementary I was good friends with Tim. It seemed that I always had one friend that was the mainstay for me. We played baseball whenever and where ever we could. It actually became a career for Tim when he was drafted by the Major Leagues. It was exciting to see him go on to play for the Minnesota Twins for a time.

I believe that even before there was baseball or a mitt or a bat in my hand, there was already cops and robbers. We played it nearly as much as we played baseball. We would chase one another around on our bikes and played a game called catch and chase. I of course, always had to be the cop and do the chasing. I loved the chase I think more than I did the catch.

My friend Joe is still a close friend of mine. We were pretty much inseparable and brought out the very best in each other. He and I were the fastest kids in Plato and that made the chase very intense. We chose different and yet, very similar careers. Both careers would put us in the position to help people. We would both find ourselves protecting and defending people; often times, people we did not even know. We were willing to put our lives on the line for what we believed to be right.

Did we both go into law enforcement? It does sound as if we shared a very similar career and yet, only one of us became a cop. All of the similarities were paralleled by a desire to be there for people in need. I of course, dedicated my life to helping others by becoming a law enforcement officer. Joe did the same things I did except that his home base was a church. Joe became a minister and gave all that he had to give. Neither of us looks back with any regrets.

As I did mention before, Plato was a place that personified the word nickname. Everyone had a nickname they went by. I cannot tell you why that fact was so but I know there are people from Plato that some never knew their real names. They were introduced by their nickname and that was that. That makes it a bit easier for me to tell you my story as I can use nicknames instead of their birth names. The names were as far and wide as an ocean and most fit the person that carried the name.

We had KB and Tubby {my brothers} and I was called Bando. The name came from a baseball player that I like way back in the day. He played for the Oakland A’s and I was a huge fan. That name stuck with me and I am still known as Bando to many. Believe me when I say that it was one of the nicer names that I have been gifted with as a law enforcement officer. Some of the names have not been so very nice. It goes with the territory and I take the name calling with a grain of salt.

There were so many names passed around and I think sometimes that the nicknames made us feel closer. We had Pinhead, Porkey, Potter, Pudder, Leps, Pinlegs, Heffer, Browney, BJ, Fuddles, Snowcone and Wheaties. There was also Tack and Cheese and Spike and Skippy and Wicks; Ardie and Gunther and DJ and Crash. The names went on and on and I knew each and every one of them. With the names like Little Pisser and Booger and Augie or Shimo and Fuzzy, there was bound to be some fights going on. KJ called us the twenty-seven Musketeers. I am not sure how right that was but we did travel in a pack. We captivated a sidewalk when we all walked together. We still to this day do things together.

In the middle of all of those friends, I did have one that I called best friend. We called him Dummer, which wasn’t a hurtful or offensive name. That really was his last name and we called him Dummer because, well, we couldn’t think of anything else to call him. He lived on a farm near Plato and I spent a lot of time at his home. I would usually bike to his place. His farm was where I learned what hard work was and how to have fun while busting your butt. We usually kept one another out of trouble and that was always a good thing. Dummer’s mother was my second mother and she will always be a special lady to me. She treated me the same as she treated Dan.

There is a story that I would like to share with you. It happened at the Dummer farm and has stayed in my mind over all of the years. Although we were just having fun or goofing around when things happened, we never stopped to realize that we were making memories that would last a life time. I have gone back to those memories so many times throughout my life. Sometimes, in a pinch or feeling a bullet pierce my skin, those memories have given me cause to get back up and finish whatever I was doing.

We loved playing Starsky and Hutch, a television show that was on in the seventies. It was two cops that were partners and friends. Dummer’s father had some 1948 pick-up trucks that we pretended to give chase with. That was after chores were finished of course. We played as often and as hard as we could. I am going to tell you a story about a particular day with Dummer.

We were trying to get some of the livestock ready to take to the county fair. They were going to be on display for everyone to see. There were three young cattle that we were going to bring with us. We brought out two Holsteins and a Black Angus bull named Billy. We approached the animals in the same way that we always did. We took a rope and wrapped it around the mid-section of the animal while Dan’s dad pulled back on the animal. I would then pull on the front of the animal while Dan tipped the animal and it fell on its side. We would then trim and clean their hooves and this worked great for the Holsteins. They weighed in at about 250 lbs. each so it wasn’t too bad working with them. We really gave very little thought to Billy being any more of a problem than the Holsteins were. He did weigh in at between 350 to 375lbs which added another few hundred pounds to this young bull.

Dan and I went through the regular movements without any concern. We wrapped the rope around Billy the bull as Dan’s dad got the rope on the bull’s back. He pulled on his rope and the rope slid around the middle of the bull. We thought everything was alright until Dick, who is Dan’s dad, pulled harder on his rope. Dan rushed in to push Billy over and that is when the adventure began. We missed out on the $100,000.00 dollar prize from America’s Funniest Home Videos because we did not get what happened next on film.

We all stared at the bull that was still standing in front of us. He had not gone down to the ground, even after Dan gave him a hard push and we pulled on the ropes. Instead of falling over like he was suppose to do; Billy snorted and his eyes told the rest of the story that was coming. He looked extremely angry and we all knew then that he was about to become our worst nightmare. He also made it very clear as to who he was snorting at and who his first victim was going to be. The look in that young bull’s eye told me everything I needed to know and some things I did not need to know.

I will never forget the look that bull gave me that day. It was the look that I have seen so many times throughout my career. That look was seen by me just before someone I was trying to apprehend or to speak too went crazy. I learned to watch people’s eyes. They often gave me that few seconds of warning that I needed. By watching and seeing what criminals often do before they try to make a run for it, it made it easier to stop something before it ever really got the chance to start.

The issue at hand however, was not a criminal going a little wild. It was not a suspect that I was walking in to the station for questioning. Oh, how I wish it had been because it would have been so much easier. This was a bull and he was already way too pissed to listen to reason. He was going to run and there was little that any of us were going to do to change his mind. This bull that we called Billy was about to become two-fold for me. He was to be one of my worst nightmares and one of my greatest memories, at the same time.

Dick is a big man and he had plenty of strength; so when he tried to push Billy away, we just figured it would be a done deal. Oh my goodness, were we ever wrong. Billy acted as if Dick had no hold on him at all. Billy was too much to hold for Dick and that fact alone made me even more nervous. If Dick wasn’t going to stop him, how in the Hell were Dan and I going to do anything to hold Billy back?

Dan decided to use his football skills and tackle Billy to the ground. He was a fabulous tackler on the football field where he played linebacker next to me. The attempted tackle and the idea of flipping Billy on his side and taking him down… didn’t work. When Dan stepped back, Billy was still standing right where he had always been standing. The differences now however; Billy was even angrier and he was looking me eye to eye now. That is when everything seemed to begin moving in very slow motion for me.

I was quick back in the day but I was not faster than this young bull. Billy came at me with everything he had to give. Backed by the fact that he was extremely agitated with me, he came at me like a freight train, steam rolling out of his nostrils just like the steam from the train engine. When he hit me full on with his head, striking me directly in my gut, I felt my body lift from the ground and stay airborne until I struck Dick’s cement garage wall. Over ten yards that bull had tossed me and I felt the impact when I came down.

I wasn’t a big boy, yet, but I did weigh in at 110 lbs and my five foot, six inch long body felt the impact of that collision. I hit the wall and was knocked a little bit loopy for a few seconds. It probably would have lasted longer but Billy had other ideas for me. Slow motion, just like when he first came at me, I looked up from the ground just in time to see Billy coming at me again. Dick and Dan were both trying to hold on to the bull but they were losing the battle.

By this time, I wasn’t sure if I wanted to scream, laugh or cry. The only thing I was sure of was that I wanted away from Billy. He dropped his head and I tried desperately to get out of his path. It wasn’t working very well for me. Have you ever seen a cat running across a slippery floor, their butt almost in front of them as they slide around a corner? That was me trying to get the Hell out of his way.

Before I could go anywhere, Billy put his head down and scooped me up off of the ground. He tossed his head back and up I went. I grabbed the garage roof and scampered up but like the cat on the wet floor, I slid down from the very slippery garage roof. If you are wondering who was waiting for me when I arrived on the floor again, you must not be following this story close enough. As I fell, I shook my head and looked at Billy waiting for me. He followed suit and shook his head. Once again, he hit me hard and this time I was knocked toward Dan’s house. It was another ten yards to the front door. I actually landed under their kitchen window where Dan’s mom was doing dishes.

Landing on my back, I can remember seeing the look on Sharon’s face after I had rolled under her kitchen window. This was not just a stare or a hello Terry kind of look. Her eyes were as big as saucer plates and there was a look of pure disbelief at what she had just witnessed in them. She had both a look of pure shock and one of disbelief in her eyes. I wonder to this day if she were unsure whether she should laugh or scream. Her seeing me tossed at her the way that only Billy could have done, I think that the scene left Sharon somewhat dumbfounded.

I did manage to hit their propane tanks, just the hundred pound ones of course. After I rolled into them, one came crashing down, barely missing my head. That would have hurt really badly. The last time I saw Billy, he was heading towards the barn. At the end of a very long rope, still attached to Billy, was Dick; looking very much the part of a water-skier, minus the water.

Sharon did come out after all the commotion was over. She and Dan came over to make sure that I was alright. I stood and brushed myself off. I assured Sharon and Dan that I was doing fine. I did not want Sharon to worry or think that they had caused me to hurt in any way. I would be very sore for a few days but there was nothing serious wrong with me. I would heal in a short time and probably turn around and do the same thing again.

Needless probably for me to say, Billy did not go with us to the Fair. In fact, a rumor had it that Billy the bull never made it out of the barn that day. He went straight to the slaughter house and a few weeks later; I was at Dummer’s house enjoying some fabulous T-bone steaks that well… were donated by Billy, the nasty Bull.

The story I just told you was not just to make you smile, although I hope it did that for you. There was learning in what had happened that day with Billy. I think that the experiences that Dummer and I shared could easily be a novel of its own but for now; I will share the stories in this novel. This was just the first of many such happenings and there are many more near death experiences to tell you.

The learning that I needed to be quick and not allow my adversary to ever get the upper hand on me was priceless. That bull taught me more than I can ever convey to you. He showed me that to let your guard down or misjudge your captive’s strength or endurance could easily open the door to disaster. Once you lose the advantage, you have put yourself in harm’s way. That is a mistake that had a price tag on it and could be extremely costly.

Life has a way of showing us that there is a better way to do some things. We need to sit and think them out without just imagining that we have it taken care of. That bull could have just as easily killed me as tossed me that day. Although we do look back on that day and laugh, the reality of it all is that it was a very dangerous situation. It could have exploded right in our faces and the cost would have been high. It taught me to be ready for anything and you won’t get caught off guard. I took that day with me each and every