“La Vida es Barata” and the Dead Pool

An informal and definitely an unauthorized “dead pool” was held by us Santa Ana Police Officers prior to our roll call briefings for the night watch (commonly referred to as the graveyard shift) before any of the major holidays — Cinco de Mayo, 4th of July, Dia de Los Muertos (Day of the Dead), Christmas as well as New Years.

It was not as if the gang bangers needed an excuse to fire their weaponry but the regular citizenry also joined in the alcohol-fueled gunfire volleys throughout the city.  Ay caramba!

This morbid “death pool” would ascertain which officer would handle the first homicide during their assigned shift to kick off the savage assaults.  A few pesos would change hands the following day.

The calculated odds advantage of winning this “death pool” was for the officers assigned to the beats that were situated in the heart of the claimed gang turfs within the various barrios of the “Golden City” (motto) of Santa Ana, California.

Note:  There were during Gumshoe’s tenure as a blue-suited patrol officer, at least 18 established and known “misguided youth groups“ known as gangs that were generational and violently territorial.

Gumshoe supposed that the Boy Scouts as well as the Camp Fire Girls recruiting efforts among the “cholos” and “cholas” were an abject failure in these troubled lands that time forgot.  Troglodytes are us!  Pass the tortillas and bullets.

On this particular occasion, it was New Year‘s  Eve and Gumshoe was working the south central beat that encapsulated several of the highly disputed gang turfs. This was apparent to any of the veteran SAPD street officers just by seeing the crossed-out gang graffiti by another opposing gang. This inherently meant that the gauntlet was thrown down by one gang to another gang to challenge their hegemony over the area.  No UN envoys were ever contacted since this was real gunboat (gun car) diplomacy at its finest.

Blood would freely flow on the streets of “The Golden City” just as sure as the evening sun would set and the stone-faced coroner’s deputy would tag the bodies by the morning sunrise.  The death business was good.

There was always a hot war on between the rival gangs with paybacks over paybacks ad infinitum. Multiple drive-by “shootin’-ups “ were the norm.  Lo seinto mucho!

These “no man lands” were prominently delineated by a distinct gang-symbolized graffiti (branding as it were) that was heavily plastered on walls, houses, traffic signs, street and sidewalk surfaces, etc.  If it didn’t move, it was labeled by the advertising arm of the gang.

Now that you kind readers have a Gang 101 basic introduction, Gumshoe will describe how he won the “Dead Pool”.  Pesos a plenty!

The bewitching hour was just seconds after midnight that heralded the new year. The fusillade of gunfire erupted throughout the city as Gumshoe sheltered in place his black & white hack beneath a freeway underpass for safety’s sake due to the bombardment.

You must understand dear readers that bullets go up and come down at the same velocity without respect to the target.

Sure enough, our police radios were also bombarded by an overwhelming wave of frantic 911 calls reporting mass mayhem.  All of the SAPD night shift officers were immediately dispatched and there were no backup officers available for our one-officer police units.  That “thin blue line” was stretched beyond the limit that night.

“God definitely is my co-pilot” echoed Gumshoe’s silent prayer-mantra as the 911 dispatcher sent Gumshoe to an unknown trouble call to a nondescript brown stucco single-story circa 1950 barrio residence located at the end of a cul-de-sac.

Lights & sirens placed Gumshoe quickly onto the harried scene.  Gumshoe thought of one of the many acronyms of USMC,(unmitigated sh** and mass confusion). This was the reality up close and personal.

There was a black, 4-door, 70’s Chevy awkwardly positioned on the grass lawn in the front yard.  The car’s lights were on and the left side driver’s door and the left side passenger’s door were standing open. The car’s interior roof light was flashing off and on like a bizarre beacon.  Maybe an electrical short? The car’s engine was running and there was a heavy odor of burnt rubber coupled with the smell of spent gunpowder that wafted in the humid night air. There were visible bullet holes that peppered the trunk and the rear window was blasted in.

Gumshoe noticed a still body inside the right front passenger seat.  This victim was slumped slightly forward.  About half of the back of his or her head was missing but remnants were splattered on the dashboard and the front windshield. The car’s radio was tuned to a heavy metal channel that seemed to be the theme song for this hellish scene.

Directly in front of the abandoned Chevy Gumshoe saw the sprawled body akimbo facing the open front door of the residence.  This victim had several apparent bullet holes in the back of his once-white crew neck tee shirt that had turned crimson.

Gumshoe heard loud shrieks beyond the open front door.  With Gumshoe’s .45 caliber semiautomatic pistol drawn and flashlight at the ready Gumshoe tactically entered the residence towards the screams.

The front door had been kicked in by evidence of a shoe print adjacent to the doorknob.  The jamb was shattered and splintered. Gumshoe saw another victim lying with his body bent over the living room couch.  This victim had several bullet holes along his back similar to his front lawn dead companion.  His right shoe was missing.

The household residents who were in between the stages of shock and fear told Gumshoe that as they were watching the televised “Ball Drop” at Times Square, they heard multiple gunshots, the screech of tires, and suddenly the crash of their front door being kicked-in by their uninvited deceased guest.

The father grabbed his wife and two kids and they immediately retreated to the back bedroom where he called 911.  They missed the ball being dropped.

Follow-up investigation of the triple homicide was later revealed through CI’s (confidential informants) account narrative.

The three males, Caucasians in their late teens had purchased a few baggies of marijuana (mota) from one of the gang-banger street drug dealers earlier during the daylight within the vicinity of the residence. These three “weto’s” decided to return to the area to purchase some more of the devil weed but somehow drove into the wrong neighborhood as they slowly drove by a party house of cholo’s of a rival barrio gang.  BIG and FATAL mistake!

These cholo’s took issue with these possible rival gang “drive-byers” and they promptly jumped into their gang bang mobiles and pursued these hapless and clueless victims.  Guns were a-blazing and Mister Toad’s Wild Ride commenced through the barrio streets.

When these victims unfortunately found themselves trapped at the end of the cul-de-sac they abandoned their car and attempted to find shelter from the murderous horde.

The right front passenger caught a slug during the pursuit. The pursuing cholo’s were instantly on them like “white on rice” and summarily executed the fleeing driver and his left rear passenger with extreme prejudice and without remorse.

The adrenaline-fueled driver did kick in the front door of the residence but he did not realize that he was already dead.  His missing shoe came off as he crashed through the front door.

Gumshoe won the dead pool by the way and it was acknowledged during the following night watch briefing as his handling the most homicides in the shortest period of the new year.  The awarded pasos were put back into the next dead pool by the way. Gumshoe thought it would be unseemly to collect on the “blood money”.

Gumshoe believes that that infamous record still stands to this day.

Epilogue: It was almost ten years later when Gumshoe was already relocated to Washington State and was employed as a Deputy Sheriff in the small mining town of Gold Bar (Westside of the Cascades) when he received a court subpoena to appear in the murder trial of these want-to-be marijuana buyers.

In the barrio, there is a common saying that sadly rings true:  “La vida es barata” which translates to “Life is cheap”.

Until next time kind readers, always remember to love the ones who love you and try to love the ones who don’t.

Coram Deo!

PS:  Gumshoe never had to testify in the homicide trial. The Orange County DA declined to pay for Gumshoe’s airfare and lodging expenses. Gumshoe surmises that “Justice is cheap”.