In Memoriam of Dolores

It was about mid-April 2018, my phone rang that night. I picked up the phone, "Hey Dolores. Hang on a sec."

I asked Hubby, "Norm! I got Dolores on the phone, could you get the kids to bed. I'll be on for a while, if that's okay."

"Go right ahead, Jody."

"Thanks." I go down to our basement, situate a punching bag across some wrestling mats, to rest against. It's going to be a long chat, I know.

"Okay, I'm here. How'd it go?"

Dolores begins, "Well, I drove Bob all over. You know he was a little late."

I replied, "Oh no. I'm so sorry."

She remarked, "He got lost getting to my apartment."

"Oh okay. Sorry about that. I told him to let you know, so you wouldn't worry. Oh well. So, tell me how'd it go?"

"Yeah. So nice guy. I drove Bob around for hours."

"He told me you drove him all over Paterson and surrounding areas for like 4 hours. Is that right?"

"Oh yeah."

"He said you're a spitfire."

"A what?"

"A spitfire Dolores. He enjoyed the interview so much. So, tell me."

"Oh. Oh good."

"Yeah." I giggled.

"So Jody, I told him and showed him crime spots."

"No way!"

"Yeah..." Dolores goes into detail of the crimes, the spots. How they figured things out. She continues, "There was this one perp real smooth. He had us Jody. For the life of me. It was baffling. He slipped by us more than once. We knew we had him..." Dolores gets into even more heavy details.

"Hang on a second Dolores." I call up to Hubby,

"Closing basement door. Heavy talk Honey." "Okay." Hubby replied.

"Okay Dolores, continue."

"So Jody, this guy..."

After a half-hour I'm thinking, 'I'm going to have nightmares tonight'. But she needs to tell me about these three cases that frustrated her. I listened intently as it was quite fascinating that not only she could recall the infinitesimal details of these three horrendous cases. And they were absolutely horrendous. Dolores was doing this after driving Bob around for 4 hours, months before she was to turn age 90.

For about two hours that night we were on the phone. I realized not only what her case load had been like for decades. Yet summer was the most eventful, because that's when rape and other violent crimes are usually at their highest rate.

Years before back in 2005 she'd asked me, "How did I not get an ulcer? I'd be eating a roast beef sandwich and stepping over rape kits and bloodied clothing." She shook her head. I remarked, "Because you were a single Mom, trying to raise two daughters and you cared not only about their futures, but the community at hand you chose to protect and serve. And that is a hell of a lot."

She'd added a number of times, "God Bless my mother. My parents helped me. You know Jody whenever I see a cardinal, which there have been a couple mornings I saw two together. I know that's my Mom and Dad." ---Jody-Lynn Reicher

Comments

2023 Holiday Letter from the Reicher's

Well, I didn't think I'd be doing a Holiday Letter this year, but here goes... The Spirit of Norm is in the air. As the wind whips with minus a true snowstorm. In hopes the Farmers Almanac was correct, I pray to the snow gods. Rain ensued the month of December thus far. We have nearly tripled the amount of rainfall usual for December in New Jersey. And I've witnessed its treachery. Storms such as these hit us hardest in July. Then remained fairly intense through til about early October. Our daughters are doing well, Thank God. Their Dad would be proud of them. Our oldest Sarah, now a Junior at UCLA pursuing her degree in Chemical Engineering. She's digging the whole California scene. Which I thought it was for her. She's had some good traveling on her off times from school. For her March 2023 week off, she drove her and a few friends out to Lake Tahoe and went downhill skiing for a first in nearly 5 years. She had to rent the ski equipment. Funny enough when

Maybe It's About Love

Maybe I just don't get it... "...My father sits at night with no lights on..."---Carly Simon In my male-dominant mind. Dr. Suess-ish sing-songy "...go go go go on an adventure..." (George Santos' escapades gave me permission to use "ish".) I'd been accused of not being detailed enough in my writing. as my writer friend, Caytha put it to me now near twenty years ago. I knew she was correct. It's gotten a lot better, a whole bunch better. But the writing of sex scenes... Well... I'll need Caytha for that. "...his cigarette glows in the dark..."---Carly Simon Even my husband Norman could have written the simple sex scenes better than I, that I currently need in my script. And he was not a writer, but a math oriented thinker. Ala carte he was a nurturing romantic. And a sort of romantic Humphrey Bogart to his Ingrid. Otherwise, I won't go into details there. I'll let the mature audiences use their imagination. I am so

Birth is a Lottery

Yes, this is about Taylor Swift and Love. I’ve had this discussion in depth nearly twenty years ago with a client. We were discussing being grateful for landing where we had in the years we were born. As to now, after that conversation, my attitude still holds. You gotta kind of be happy for other people in some way, no matter where you came from. It’s like good sportsman-like conduct. You lose, you shake hands, hug, whatever. That is how I’ve handled it 99% of the time, win or lose. I remember one time, one moment in my life I didn’t do that. And I still stand by my not doing so that evening after a competition. Otherwise, every other competitor deserved my congrats. My fight coach said that I was unusual (2013) because after losing a fight, I act as though I’ve won. To me, it was that I was just so happy to be able to compete. I’ve lost more than I’ve won. I’ll say that again. I’ve lost more than I’ve won. In softball, when I was aged nine (1971), we lost all our games as the &qu

Writing Reality

Search This Blog