Spirit of the Badge

When The Devil Looks Back
Wednesday, 16 December 2009 10:46

In 1992, I was a California Highway Patrol Officer. I was patrolling the back roads of Kern County California, just outside of Bakersfield, CA. It was 5 pm on a Sunday afternoon, 106 degrees. I initiated an enforcement stop on a vehicle which was weaving side to side. As I made the stop I noticed that there were two male passengers and the driver.

I could see they were trying to hide something by leaning over the seats and hiding something. We were parked next to an open cottonfield. As I got the driver out I smelled alcohol. I gave him some field sobriety tests which he passed but I cited him for having an open container of alcohol. The right front passenger immediately got out w/o my request and confronted me. He became verbally abusive in Spanish. I am bilingual so I understood everything he said just fine. Next thing I know he swung at me. I ducked, grabbed my radio to call for backup and took hold of his shirt as well. He swung back and knocked the radio out of my hand. It hit the pavement and shattered. No back up was coming. I tackled him to the ground as his buddies now got out of the vehicle. The suspect immediately turned around, grabbed the back of my head slammed his into mine. I was stunned but hung on. I looked down at my shirt saw that it was soaked in red. It was then that I realized my eyebrow was split in two and I was bleeding profusley. He looked at my face and appeared stunned that I that did not let go. He then grabbed a rock and began hitting my face. No more rules, the fight was on.

It lasted approximatley eleven minutes, 106 degrees wearing a bullet-proof vest and wool uniform. Finally at one point I got him on all fours utilizing an old wrestling move. I held onto his legs and rear belt loop. He slowly turned around, with the blackest of eyes, in a deep guttural voice in Spanish, he told me, " I am going to kill you and leave you here." He had a smile on his face, saliva dripping, with a slow laugh. He grabbbed me and threw me off of him as if I were a feather. He then began kicking me with his boot toward my head.

At one point he grabbed my holstered weapon. I knew I was going to die. As I held on to him, I heard a low whisper in my ear, not female or male, just a whisper that said, "Ask God for help" The incident was featured on "Real Stories of the Highway Patrol" but I never fully told the whole story. I would have been ridiculed and possibly removed as an officer. I know that I dealt with a demonic entity in one form or another within this individual. The voice itself was not human. I have never experienced human strength like this.

 

Angels are messengers, but sometimes we misunderstand their language.
-- Linda Solegato

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