Chapter 3 My Friend Eddie Part 5. Shootout at the Not So O K Corral

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Eddie and I drifted apart after I left for college. After college I went into the military and eventually settled in California. Eddie no doubt continued to have adventures on his own. The scariest one of which I know was his shoot out with the police.

In the rural south, it is not at all unusual for a young man to carry a handgun, usually in the glove compartment of his vehicle. He carries it for the same reason, young urban professionals carry brief cases. It is not so much that he really needs it. The brief case and gun are both often empty. They are carried partially for the status they represent, but mostly for the ego of the one carrying them.

That explains why Eddie had a gun, although anyone who knew him would know he would never use it to harm anyone. Fortunately, most of the local police force knew Eddie quite well.

I can't explain why he had the gun in his pants when the cop pulled him over. Nor can I explain why he was pulled over. He might have been speeding. It might have had something to do with his known connections to the local drug scene.

Eddie's involvement in the local drug scene was more of a hobby than an occupation. His dad had gotten him a job as a building inspector. A job hardly suited to Eddie's temperament. Eddie was always looking for ways to make life more interesting. The local drug scene provided such opportunities.

Anyway, getting back to the story, the cop pulled Eddie over just outside of town. They both got out of their vehicles and approached each other. I can guess that the reason the cop started to draw his own gun was because he saw the gun in Eddie's belt and it is probably standard procedure to have your own gun unholstered when approaching someone with a gun.

Unfortunately, Eddie like most of our generation was raised on TV westerns. Seeing the cop go for his gun, Eddie felt obliged to out draw him. Eddie got his gun out first and found himself pointing his gun at the cop whose gun had not yet cleared the holster. They both froze unable to believe the situation in which they now found themselves.

As I've said before, Eddie may have been crazy, but he was not stupid. Under the circumstances, Eddie quickly came to his senses, held his left hand out in front of him as if stopping traffic and carefully laid his gun on the ground in front of him saying, "Uhhh, my mistake, George. I didn't mean to do that."

As I mentioned, all the cops in town were already familiar with Eddie and so George was able to process all of this rather quickly. He was so relieved Eddie had not shot at him and that he had not had to shoot Eddie, he let him go after checking to make sure Eddie was not intoxicated and that he didn't have any drugs on him.

   This shootout incident was the last story Eddie ever told me. He related it when I came back to my home town to visit my parents. Eddie came over to meet my new bride. We had a really lovely evening together just playing cards and telling stories. I am really thankful for that last quiet evening together. Eddie was killed several months later in a car accident.

You know, I never did get the full story behind the setting the bleachers on fire incident. I am pretty sure it was not the malicious act it was made out to be. I can imagine all sorts of possibilities of how things might get out of hand for a nine-year-old experimenting with matches. It's easy when you don't always assume the worst about someone.

Every death is a loss in its own way. For me, it is the Eddie's of this world that make life interesting and fun. I still feel the loss of his life. I appear to be tearing up again. It must be that fireworks war I'm remembering. Tears and laughter, now that would be a great title for a memoir.

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