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                          The Interception.

Eight months ago my Uncle Ted passed away after a long bout with cancer. Ted was a lawman if there
ever was one, he work as a Deputy Sherriff for twenty years then a Detective retiring from the San
Diego Sheriff's Department. Was not long before he would once again pick up the badge, hired  as an
Investigator by the San Diego District Attorney’s Office, he work another ten years until learning he had
cancer.. Services were held at Graceland Chapel in Escondido where he lived, a suburb just north of San
Diego.
A crowd of sixty people gather in the wind and rain, mostly colleagues and friends from law enforcement.
Slowly they begin to squeeze through the small doors of the chapel to pay their respects. 
The Chaplin read the short eulogy a family member had wrote and when it came time to ask if anybody
had something they wanted to say about his character it seemed every hand in the room went up. The
men and women each with their own personal experience to share. One by one they talked of a man who
would have gave his life for them, they describe a man of courage, honor, and integrity. Of a man that
they trusted and relied on that cheered them up when down, one that made them laugh and in the end
cry.  
One story that was told of how my uncle always had time to make others feel good about the job they
were doing. My Uncle Ted was known to have given out awards, usually a plaque to fellow teammates
and co-workers in honor of some performance or good job they did, given to individuals within the
organizations he belongs. A little token of appreciation in a big world where so many deserving such a
thing go unrecognized, an atta-boy, pat-on the back, simple smile and thank you to hang on your office
wall.
The person telling the story was another Deputy who worked with my uncle for a time in the Superior
Court house downtown San Diego. The story he told was of vicious murder that had taken place this side
of the Mexican Border near Tijuana. The perpetrator was quickly caught and during his trial the Deputy
had become ill. He required an operation so he asked my uncle if he could take his spot. The job
consisted of bringing the defendant in and out of the court room and preventing any escape. Except this
prisoner was not going to go easy, disrupting court proceeding whenever he got the chance. Continuously
fighting .deputies verbally insulting the Judge and his staff, trying to intimidate witnesses and stop the
trial. He would not stop and fought with the deputies the whole trial often screaming and cursing at the
witnesses. My Uncle Ted was a Kool hand Luke under fire and hard as nails when he had to be.
 Finally, the Judge had enough of the interruptions and had the defendant restrained. He was so loud and
verbally abusive the judge ordered him to wear a heat jacket. The Constitution gives the right for
assailants to confront their accusers and in certain cases to maintain order the defendant is forced to
wear an electric straight jacket that is controlled by a button switch the deputy holds and whenever there
is an outburst in court a shockwave is sent to silence the source.
 Towards the end of a drawn-out trial my uncle sit in the middle at a long table, on his left sit the
defendant, then the man’s attorney, to the right was the district attorney, a tiny woman that weight no
more than 115 pounds, she stand facing the Judge in closing argument. That's when the defendant jumps
to his feet, my uncle pressed the button, the zapper having little affect, the defendant freezes for a couple
seconds and in a bizarre act reach into his orange pants pulling out a woman's brassiere. Where he got
the bra, nobody knows, in custody defendants are stripped searched before being allowed to enter the
court room. The defendant swings his arm in direction of the District Attorney releasing to fling the bra. A
loud gasp echo in chorus through the court room. My uncle lean back in his chair stretching his arm out
straight to "Intercept” the brassiere in midflight. The trail continues and justice is served. A few days
later my uncle presented the District Attorney in court with an award for a job well done, DA's usually do
not receive awards, they are just doing their jobs. On the plaque were the words EXELENT JOB and
underneath hung the brassiere in which the defiant defendant failed to connect.
Thank you, sincerely,
 Raw Ink (pen name)
Written in
Dated; 02/02/23.

By  Jeffery R. Hairabedian