I’d be willing to bet your salary that not one of them ever had a chance to do what I did. In fact, I’d almost be willing to bet my own pension that it’s never been done by any other police officer in history. It all began with the radio operator’s bored, professional voice. “Units 30 and 35-East, 11-40 OB.” She sent us to a house in the 3800 block of Menlo in East San Diego. Unit 30 was the east end ambulance, 11-40 was notification that an ambulance was possibly needed, OB meant a woman was having a baby, and 35-East was me. Thirty was on the air immediately. “Unit thirty. I’m not ready to clear College Park yet. My gurney’s still . . . messed up.” He’d just delivered one of the victims of a ghastly accident down on 1-8. “Better send forty-three,” he said. Forty-three, however, was at that moment on the way to Hillside Hospital with a knifing victim. Radio wound up sending Unit 2 all the way from Balboa Park. I acknowledged the call from Central and University, and arrived in less than two minutes.
