Posts Tagged ‘ LAPD ’

MEMORIES OF A WOMAN’S LIFE WELL LIVED.

THE HUMAN RACE

MARRIED 55 YEARS, GIGI’S FINALLY TURNING 39!

It seems like we met

only ten short years

ago on a blind date at

a Pan Am beach party.

When we honeymooned to

Hawaii and were offered

single beds at a fancy

hotel, I hit the roof and

got us a dream room ideal

for our sentimental journey.

More than a half

century ago I fell

asleep on the LAPD

police beat after

going without a wink

for 24 hours while

JoAnne delivered our

first son, Brandon.

When our daughter Brooke

was born, she looked

like she had gone 14

rounds with Muhammad Ali.

She blossomed into a beauty.

When Beau arrived upside

down, that was some labor

of love for JoAnne.

It’s hard to believe that

we have four grandchildren

and a great Italian

son-in-law named Rocco.

On and off for 55 years,

JoAnne and I remained

best friends. Together,

we’ve had such a good time

romancing, arguing and

performing the dance

of life. Every minute

has been scintillating.

And for JoAnne, at times,

exasperating. Lucky for me,

she has been forthright and

mentally competent. I do love her.

And now on October 18, 2014,

she’s turning 78!!!

For God’s sake, Gigi, time does fly by.

Happy Birthday Honey!

Boots

THEY SHOWED COURAGE, HUMOR AND WISDOM.

THE HUMAN RACE

PEOPLE WHO’VE BEAT LIFE’S RAP!

     Picture this: A B-17 bomber returning home after a devastating combat mission. Flack has damaged part of its tail rudder. The fuselage is riddled with bullet holes. One engine is sputtering. Low on fuel, will that old bucket of bolts make it back to home base?

     For God’s sake, that’s a metaphor for me! I just turned 82! In life, I’ve taken my share of hits and survived many missions over enemy territory. Yet I’m still writing and illustrating stories and essays about young and old people just like you. The final edit of my book, “THE HUMAN RACE” is now available on Kindle and Amazon in paperback.

     Whenever I touch down on life’s tarmac, people tell me that I look great. I want to believe their bullshit. After one glance in the mirror, I know better. What my book has to offer are stories, related essays and light poetry. Those are my weapons. My mission is to introduce you to you. That is, if the two of you care to meet.

     Here’s a sampling of the many men and women you might identify with: A rogue astronaut, a heartbroken single parent, a matador, cardiologists who grapple with death, a U.S. president, a psychic who doesn’t do “flying horns,” a war vet, a topless dancer studies her neurotic male audience, a movie star who despised Hollywood, a rabbi who survived memories of the Holocaust with humor, a prosecutor for the D.A. who sent three men to death row, a divorcee who knows how to rise above her woes, a LAPD bomb squad technician speaks of fear, the Picasso of shoe repair, journalistic dinosaurs who covered crime, a philosophic janitor, The Beatles, a pari-mutuel clerk psychoanalyzes racetrack bettors, 9/11 firefighters and cops, courageous men and women all…

     The guys and gals I’ve written about  have sampled triumph, humiliation, heartbreak, poverty, love and managed to laugh in the face of adversity. I’m proud to say they trusted me with their most intimate tales. Hopefully you’ll find something in common with many them. They are my professors. I want them to be your professors, too!

     So buy the damned book on Kindle or Amazon.

     This damaged B-17 Flying Fortress isn’t the only one who insists that his book is meaningful and entertaining.

     Produced and formatted by my son Beau’s  Blue Soul Publishing, here’s some quotes that pleased this  battle-weary old Flying Fortress:

     Dr. Carolyn M. Walker, a psychologist, writes: “Boots has a genuine interest in a wide variety of people and in each individual’s unique ‘story.’ He has an ability to combine their interviews with his own life experiences to arrive at some interesting universal truths about the human struggle. He uses his journalistic skills to present these thoughts in a readable, entertaining and somehow optimistic manner.”

     Jim Norris, a historian, says: “Combining humor, history and philosophy, “THE HUMAN RACE” is a book with the kind of stories and essays you can return to again and again.”

     Fern Levine, a retired airline administrator, writes: “A beautiful anthology of poetry, prose and vignettes. The stories are captivating, sometimes funny, often sad, and always kept me wanting to turn the page for more. The author has drawn on decades of experiences, and encounters with a grab bag of goodies, with something for everyone to relate to.”

     Carlos Schiebeck, a photojournalist and combat photographer for UPI and Agencee France Presse, says: “Very interesting read. This was written by someone who has thought a lot about human nature and did interviews to prove what he understands about the human psyche. Well written.”     

     Now that kind of propaganda is the kind of fuel that keeps this beat-up old B-17 still flying high.

                        — Boots LeBaron —  

LAPD BOMB SQUAD LOOKS AT LIFE AND DEATH

Whenever Harry Lathrop or his partners go to work, everybody in their right mind scatters.  That’s because they’re members of LAPD’s elite Bomb Squad unit.

If you received a buzzing package delivered to your doorstep, wouldn’t you do like a guy in the San Fernando Valley did:  Call the cops?  When the bomb squad arrived with all its sophisticated gear, what did they find?  A vibrator — a gift from the victim’s girlfriend.  It had turned itself on in transit.

Is that funny?  In retrospect:  Hell yes!  But on an emergency call:  Hell no!

When Harry or the two dozen men and women who work the Hazardous Devices/Materials Section for the Los Angeles Police Department respond to a call, it’s always a potentially explosive situation.  As we shared a booth at the Corner Bakery Cafe in Manhattan Beach, Harry impressed me as a knowledgeable professional, an unpretentious lawman with a serious sense of humor.  With his short-cropped butch, Popeye forearms and ball bearing shoulders, the husky 200 pounder was just as intimidating as Clint Eastwood’s fictionalized Dirty (“Make my day!”) Harry.

The only difference was that Harry Lathrop was a real cop with more than 30 years on the force.  Eastwood was prettier, taller, richer and a far better actor than the man in blue seated across from me.

More than a decade earlier, he had gone through a special F.B.I. training program at the Redstone Military Arsenal in Huntsville, Alabama to qualify as a bomb squad technician.

Before that, he was one of the original members of the LAPD’s Bomb K-9 unit at Los Angeles International Airport.

Of course, he wasn’t wearing the 80-pound bomb suit that makes him and partners like Tony Doyen look like spooky aliens from another galaxy.  If he wore his EOD (Explosive Ordnance Disposal) outfit into the cafe, he guaranteed:  “The place would clear out real fast.”

What follows is a question-and-answer conversation we had, bearing in mind that Harry didn’t want me to reveal any company secrets.

Screwing around with a bomb… for God sakes, you could be blown to smithereens!  How do you handle that emotionally?

“For law enforcement people and fire fighters, that’s part of the job,” he told me.  “You don’t need a PhD to be a bomb technician.  But you must have the knowledge and the common sense to cope with a variety of devices.”

Have you disarmed many bombs?

“We don’t say ‘disarm,'” he said.  “It’s ‘render safe.'”

How many bombs have you personally rendered safe?

“I never counted.”

A bunch?

“A few.  In Los Angeles, we run about 900 calls a year.  You might get four or five calls in a day; then you could go for weeks with no calls.”

What’s it like to roll on call?

“Usually, when you arrive, the street coppers have already evacuated everybody.  You don’t always know what you’re going to find.”

Harry told me about “rendering safe” a huge homemade bomb, a situation he described as “ugly.”  He said that he had to “make it go away.”  Since the case was pending litigation, I can’t use the story but I can quote him as saying:

“I put on my 80-pound business suit and went in with what we call an equipment disrupter.  I’ve gotta be careful talking about this.”

Was it like in the movies where seconds before the bomb is to explode, George Clooney or Matt Damon have gotta figure which of the colored wires to snip?

“Oh, no, no!”  We both laughed.  “That’s all Hollywood crap.  No, we put on our protective gear and go in with our disrupters.  Depending on what kind of device you’re trying to render safe, you choose specific rounds for a target.”

A beach cities minister told me about discovering a large, suspicious looking, gift-wrapped package left at the entrance to the church where he was about to perform a wedding ceremony.

After evacuating the bride, groom, and about 75 guests, a bomb squad officer, dressed in heavy protective gear, tested the package for explosives.  The box, said the minister, contained “horse droppings,” compliments of the bride’s hostile ex-husband who was later arrested.

On every job, you’re gambling with your life, aren’t you?

“We don’t even think about that nonsense.  The focus is:  ‘What do I need to do to make this thing safe?'”

Has your unit ever lost anybody?

“In 1986 we lost two men.  Ron Ball and Arleigh McCree, a counter-terrorism specialist.  They were in a murder suspect’s garage in Hollywood when two pipe bombs exploded.”

Does your wife ever worry about you?

“No.  We talked prior to my joining the unit.  She said, ‘If that’s what you want to do, go for it.’

“She knows that we’re well trained; have good equipment.  She knows I wouldn’t do anything stupid,” he smiled, adding, “I expect to enjoy my retirement.”

Who are the culprits who plant these bombs?

“They can be anyone from kids to home-grown terrorists.

Do you understand fear?

“For me, it’s knowing that I’ll have to pay taxes again this year,” he joked, then grew serious.  “Fear is an individual phobia.  What scares me might not scare somebody else.  In this line of work, you don’t allow those things to come into play.  You focus on your job.  It’s something you’re trained to do.”

How do you cope with facing death?

“I don’t think about that.  We concentrate on situations we have to deal with.  I think about the street coppers.  They see more than their share.  They’re the guys who have it rough.  They’re the ones doing the real work.  Not me!”

When you’re not wearing your Darth Vader paraphernalia, what do you do during the day?  Play checkers?  Watch soap operas?

“You’d be surprised.  We do our own kind of forensics.  We

train continually.  We dissect all the bombs we’ve rendered safe.  We’re constantly learning, refining techniques.  We practice getting into suits and handling explosive devices.”

So it’s not like selling real estate or working at Macy’s?

“Not quite.”

How long does it take to get into a bomb suit?

“A couple of minutes.  You can’t do it alone.  Your partners have to help.  You’re wearing a big thick cumbersome piece of bulky armor.  You can maneuver in it, but your movement is limited.  Each technician has a suit that’s individually fitted.”

Is there a bomb squad tailor?

“No.  Our suits come in small, medium and large.”

Is your suit something like what the astronauts wear?

“We’re more like Sir Lancelot.”

“Have you seen ‘The Hurt Locker’?” asked Harry, referring to the low-budget film which won six Oscars in 2010.  “It’s a good movie.  Very entertaining with a lot of Hollywood.  But the bomb suits are very accurate.  Right on.”

Hollywood, he said, “adds a lot of fuel to make big incendiary fireballs.  In real life, most explosions aren’t that spectacular.”

When you go on a call, how do people react?

“Usually, everybody’s been evacuated.  So we don’t have to deal with the public.  We just show up.  Make things safe.  Then leave.  But we take everything serious.  We always assume that we’re going to find something very ugly, very nasty.  You never know what you’re dealing with until you do your diagnostics.  It’s either, ‘OK, this is nothing!’ or ‘This is something and we’ve got to make it go away — safely.'”

Tony, Harry’s bomb-squad partner, recalled an explosive incident that occurred at 2010’s 82nd Academy Awards’ ceremony at the Kodak Theater in Hollywood.

As K-9 bomb-sniffing dogs “swept” the theater for hazardous devices, one canine “pooped” on the famous red carpet, then did it again on the kitchen floor of celebrity chef Wolfgang Puck.

Can you give me one suspenseful incident that happened to you?

“There was a pipe bomb with exposed wires in South Central Los Angeles.  I’m wearing a new bomb suit which my partner helped me get into.  Looking at those loose wires, I’m thinking:  ‘Wow, if those wires touch, this thing could go!’

“As I’m bending over the bomb, my face shield — it’s pretty heavy — falls on the wires.  Nothing happens.  The bomb was fake.  I knew that my partner was very capable, a really good guy; he wasn’t trying to do me in,” said Harry whimsically.

Why did you ever become a cop, Harry?

“I joined the department right out of Torrance High School.  After a while I realized:  Law enforcement is a pretty cool job.”

Many bomb squad units like LAPD’s Hazardous Devices/Materials Section — and there are literally hundreds across the country — are equipped to handle a diversity of emergencies.

Besides EOD suits, technicians carry their own tool box, work with water canons or bomb disrupters that can shoot a powerful stream of water or fire varying projectiles at a specific target rendering it safe without disturbing the contents.  They also operate disrupter robots that can lift packages and climb obstacles, X-ray machines and work with bomb-sniffing dogs.

When we talked, LAPD’s latest bomb-fighting toy — created by LAPD technicians — was a rumbling 39,000-pound radio-controlled vehicle named The Batcat.  It was like an armor-plated Tyrannosaurus rex with huge tires and an extension that reached 50 feet.  Its forklift arms could pick up a SUV containing an explosive device, drive to a safe distance and deposit it into a high-impact chamber.  There it could go BOOM without harming citizens or the stalwart bomb squad guys and gals who had to cope with such hazardous devices.  The mammoth unmanned remote ground vehicle was being touted as LAPD’s futuristic defense weapon.  Since LAPD now has its Batcat, what do you call the vehicle that carries all your bomb squad equipment? I asked Harry.

“A truck,” he replied.

 With all the years working first as a regular street cop and now as a bomb technician, what have you learned about yourself?

“I should have stayed in school.  Maybe I could have become a neurosurgeon.”

Boots LeBaron

(Note:  There are more stories like this in THE HUMAN RACE BY BOOTS LEBARON, my newly-released book on Amazon through CreateSpace.  It consists of interviews with people ranging from astronauts to actors to strippers, plus essays and light poetry.  Take a look by clicking on the link provided below.)

http://www.amazon.com/The-Human-Race-Boots-LeBaron/dp/1494218526/ref=sr_1_1?ie=UTF8&qid=1392610985&sr=8-1&keywords=BOOTS+LEBARON

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