Long, long, long time ago, sometime prior to 1988, my immediate family lived in the town of Hyattsville, Maryland, which is only minutes from the Nation’s Capital, Washington, D.C.  Living next door to us was a white family, and one girl I remembered named Maggie, who I just had little kid feelings for, but it wasn’t meant to be. On the other side of our property was another neighbor, who was just as creepy as the tall white guy that flew around on his make-shift plane in the movie Mad Max.  If you don’t understand or know what I am talking about, go find a clip or watch the movie, Mad Max, and you will understand what I am talking about.  You will just need to pay attention to the guy that flies his stupid little helicopter.

Across the street from us was a neighbor who had a beautiful dog named, King, and he was exactly that, a King.  I can’t remember what kind of dog he was, maybe a Husky or mixed with at least Husky, but he was huge and when he barked it sounded like it came from deep within the loins.  We lived on Buchanan Street, closer to the main road of Kenilworth Avenue, and the closer convenient store to us was a 7-11.  On this particular day, I can’t remember if we didn’t have a car available or it was missing somewhere, but my mother and I had to go to the store for some items we needed.  Whatever our transportation issue was at that time, we couldn’t use it and had to trump it out on foot.  However, the challenge was that a Nor’easter or just a heavy snowfall that day, was coming through the area and had dumped numerous inches and feet.

I remember as my mother and I prepared to trump out on foot, we had to make sure we bundled up and kept asking each other are we ready to go? Lol! We made our way out of the neighborhood, which wasn’t that bad until we hit Kenilworth Avenue where the major issues with our trip started.  The plows didn’t come through our neighborhood for a long time and struggled with keeping up with the storm, but the knee deep snow made the walking to the store adventure quite fun and challenging.  As I said before leaving our side street wasn’t too bad, but once we hit the main road things changed completely.  I think we were heading to 7-11, and my mother had on her long burgundy-black coat that I thought only she owned in the world, and walking along the shoulder of the highway was an added challenged as the piles of snow were angled and extremely deep.

I don’t remember how many times we stumbled, fell and got stuck in these mountain reigns of snow, but it was fun and made us laugh the entire time.  Numerous times my mother would think that we should turn around and go back home, but she wanted to keep going so she could get this errand completely finished.  I don’t know how long it took us to complete this endeavor, but we made it there and back with no problem.  After that I had always wanted to repeat that same trip, but each time it would snow heavy we had no reason to go out and repeat the endeavor so it never happened again.  However, it was something I would never forget and always cherish!

Henry Scott


Any one that has worked in law enforcement for a brief period of time, will know that things can change in a heartbeat. No domestic call is the same, no traffic stop is the same and no assault call is the same.  That definitely holds true with this incident that happened during my traffic stop, or should I say I was aware of it after my stop.  During one of my night shifts, I remember pulling this car over on Route 1 for some simple violation.  I might’ve been there for some time or not, but the next thing I know I see two more of fellow officers pulling up behind me.  It ended up being a “routine” traffic stop that I cleared with either a warning or citation, but the next thing I remember is that I heard someone running up behind me yelling out to me.  I turned around and saw this young female running towards me, across the road, with this very concerned and desperation look on her face.  When she got close to me, I just remember her telling me that her roommate just attempted suicide and that she needs help immediately.

Without telling the other officers that were there with me, I just immediately ran across the road to the house where the girl came from. Unfortunately, my radio wasn’t getting great reception inside the house so I couldn’t hear anyone calling me at first.  After following the young girl into the house where her roommate was lying, the first thing I saw was just the fear in the eyes of the other girl who just attempted suicide.  As I got further into the room, I saw the large kitchen knife lying next to the girl covered partially in blood.  Obviously, I quickly removed the knife from the scene, or at least away from her, and quickly went into action to stop the bleeding.  I was expecting the girl to fight me from trying to save her life, or trying to treat her, but she cooperated with me every step of the way.  When I was able to hear on the radio that I was being called, I finally was able to inform the dispatcher of what I had and what was needed.

I’m not sure how quickly the paramedics got there, but I remember they were there pretty quick. The whole scene lasted maybe only a few minutes, but felt like it last for several more.  Then, just as quickly as it started the scene ended with both roommates heading towards the hospital.  Each time I wanted to go back to the house to follow up on how things are, I either got distracted with something else or some type of energy just kept me away.  So, unfortunately, I never got to know what happened to the girl who nearly ended her life and if she ever got help.  At the time that happened, the scene was out of our jurisdiction so no written report of any kind was documented, except me responding and people being transported.  Few years later, all that changed when majority of the city became part of our patrols and anyone being treated and/or transported by the paramedics was documented.  Situations like that I often wonder about people that I come across in life at their worse, and how they progress or digress as time goes on.  So many times in our career we don’t get to see the outcome of our assistance with people and victims of certain crimes.  I often thing does the girl even feel appreciative that I came and helped her and didn’t leave the area right away?  Does she even remember who I was?  Somethings in life you will never know.

Henry Scott


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