Chattanooga Pulse

Written by Alex Teach
Tuesday, 30 December 2008 21:17

It wasn’t so much the cold as the wind. I was shivering and strongly considering putting a coat on when I heard the arguing begin. It was 1:30 a.m. and I was a block up the street from where a car striking a utility pole had left the pole broken nearly in two. All that held it aloft was the series of cables it was intended to support, which was now ironically all that supported it, and quite naturally, the occupant of the house nearest the calamity had stepped outside and was strolling towards it.

“Hey!” another officer yelled, “Stop! That thing could fall at any second!” He was holding his arms up, palms outward in a universal sign of “STOP”.

The resident stopped briefly to put the back of her hands on her hips, draw up the left corner of her upper lip, tilt her head indignantly, then proceeded on towards the edge of her yard, mumbling to herself. “HEY! Lady! That pole could FALL on you! Those wires are LIVE! Get back!” the officer yelled. He was concerned not just for her safety of course, but because the likelihood was he was going to have to get closer to it as well. He didn’t share her apparent lack of self-preservation instinct, and it placed him at a disadvantage.

She stopped again and replied, “You don’t tell me where to go! This is MY house, MY yard, I can go where I damn well please!” She now looked upward and saw utility lines sagging like old wet rope and realized that the officer might just be right, but she held her ground because, By God, she wasn’t going to have some police officer telling her what she could and couldn’t do.