Motorcycle In The Creek

Looking Back – Motorcycle in the Creek

By J. Bryan Wasson

My childhood dream was to become an Abilene, Texas Police department Motor Officer. My uncle, J.T. (Bus) Wasson had been a part time Abilene Police Motor Officer. In the late 30s and early 40s, Officers of the Abilene Police Department worked seven days per week. The only way Police Officers could get a day off or take a vacation was for a “relief officer” to take their place. My Uncle was one of these “relief officers.” He was a full time City of Abilene employee in the Electrical Department. When a Police Motor Officer needed a day off, my uncle filled in.   A City electrician became a Police Officer. He was a riding partner of family friends J.D. Woodard and C.A. Veteto.

I often visited in the home of my Uncle and Aunt. My Uncle would come home for lunch riding that police motor. I would stand and look at the motorcycle and climb up and sit astride it.  I knew that some day I had to ride one of those Abilene Police Department Motorcycles.

Family friend, J.D. Woodard became my boyhood hero. I would stand on the side of the street, just hoping he or one of the other motor officers would ride by.  J.D. Woodard went on to become a Captain on the Abilene Police Department. He later served as Constable of Taylor County and later was elected Sheriff of Taylor County. C.A. Veteto went on to become a Captain and later Assistant Chief of the Abilene Police Department until his retirement.

After a hitch in the U.S. Air force, the first part of my boyhood dream was achieved. I became an Abilene Police Officer in 1954.  About a year later, the second part of my dream was achieved. I became a motor officer.

The motorcycle squad in Abilene was too small to have a formal training program such as the Motor School conducted by many large Departments. However, a City Park in the north east part of town known as Will Hair Park became our training grounds.  Traffic cones were set up in various patterns by our Traffic Sergeant. We would be required to do various maneuvers between the cones without knocking over cones. Our Traffic Captain, F. M. Pruitt was a former motor officer. He provided a lot of tips and instructions.

One of the things Capt. Pruitt encouraged us to do was to do as much off street riding as possible. He believed that the skills necessary for riding a motorcycle on the street were learned off the street.  He also said, “You can not work traffic if you are part of the traffic.” We used those skills learned riding off the street to survive on the street as we enforced traffic law.

In those days, Motor Officers worked six days per week, Monday through Saturday. On Saturdays we had no School Zones to work and not as many funeral escorts as through the week.  It also seemed that traffic was lighter and there were far fewer traffic accidents to investigate on Saturdays. For these reasons, Saturday was the day when we tried to do the bulk of our off street riding. We often rode around the City Owned Lake Fort Phantom Hill for this purpose. It also seems that we were often drawn to our familiar training grounds in Will Hair Park.  Vacant parking lots were another good training area. At the time I also owned my own private motorcycle. While off duty, I loved to do what we called “dragging iron”, which was weaving in and out of the painted lines that designated the parking spaces as well as doing figure eights with our crash bars dragging on the pavement. In many parking lots there was a long straight line much like the center stripe on a public roadway. Parking space lines angled from this line on both sides of the line. These lines averaged about 4 inches in width. I loved to ride these long straight lines. I got very good at this. This skill, however,  soon turned out to be a literal down fall.

In the north east corner of will Hair Park was a dirt embankment. It was about 15 feet high from ground level.  On one end of the embankment was a gentle slope. It was easy to ride to the top which was a narrow ridge. The ridge was too narrow to turn around. The only way to get down was on the side which was nearly straight up and down. We learned to slide the motorcycles sideways down the sides of this embankment. It was good training. On occasion, I would get to the top and chicken out. In these cases fellow Motor Officer Paul Angleton, who later retired as Assistant Chief, would mount my motor and slide it down the embankment.

A creek ran through the park.  At that time, right next to the dirt embankment a smaller creek branched off the other creek and ran across the north east corner of the park. This smaller creek was shallow. It had gravel in the bottom and clear water ran rather swiftly over the gravel. A six inch pipe of some sort crossed the creek. The pipe was two or three feet above the water. Due to dirt work done by the City, this smaller creek no longer exists.

Riding a Police motorcycle is inherently a little bit dangerous. On at least two occasions, I decided to do something that was not only dangerous, but stupid. This was about to be one of those occasions. My skill at riding a painted line (the center strip on a paved road) no more than four inches wide was what led me to believe that I could accomplish what proved to be a foolish effort.

I was on routine patrol on the north side of town. I decided to ride through the park for a few minutes. I was in the north east corner of the park when I decided to return to my patrol on the streets. Rather than turn around and ride to the entrance of the park, I looked at that six inch pipe which was buried until it reached the creek on both sides. If I could ride a four inch painted stripe, surely I could ride right across this six inch pipe to the street just beyond and outside the park. This was a serious error.

If I had just looked straight ahead, there is no doubt in my mind that I would have been on the other side of that creek within a few seconds.  About half way across, the full realization of the magnitude of what I was doing came to me. I suddenly realized that it is impossible to make a U turn while riding a motorcycle on a six inch pipe, three feet above a creek bed. I became scared and looked down. Out of instinct, I put my feet down. My feet were dangling in mid air. The next thing I knew was that I was in the water with a motorcycle on top of me.

I immediately got up and up righted the motorcycle. I then realized that one man alone could not get the motorcycle out of the creek. I picked up my microphone and transmitted a message asking if there was a Motor near Will Hair Park. I received a reply from a patrol car indicating that they were within a few blocks. My response was, “Negative, thank you, but I need a Motor Officer.” If a couple of Officers assigned to a patrol car learned of this incident, I would never live it down.

Shortly after this conversation, fellow Motor Officer Joe Taylor responded that he was about 15 or 20 blocks away.  My response was, “I will meet you in the north east part of Will Hair Park.”

Soon Officer Joe Taylor arrived. He was rather amused at the sight he observed.  He was very curious as to how in the world I got myself and my motorcycle into that creek. The two of us together got the motorcycle out of the creek. I then mounted my motorcycle, rode to my home and put on a dry uniform.     02-15-03, JBW
Tales of the Abilene, Texas Police Department