Faulkner
Member
With just over 18 years in law enforcement I reached a milestone in my career this week with the purchase of my 250th Happy Meal. What’s interesting is, I’ve never once eaten a Happy Meal.
When I was a rookie deputy sheriff I received a call around 11:00 PM one evening from dispatch to proceed to backup the shift SGT on a traffic stop in the northern part of the county. When I arrived on the scene on the side of the highway I could see that the SGT had pulled over a late model extended cab pickup truck. The driver, a white male around 30 years old, was standing on the side of the road and as I walked up the SGT asked me to keep an eye on him. Inside the truck, sitting in the passenger side seat, was a woman, white, also 30ish, holding a 8 or 9 month old baby. In the back seat of the pickup was a boy that I later found out was 6 years old.
The SGT had already determined probable cause to search the truck before I arrived and he commenced to do so. Since it was late at night and a chilly fall evening, the SGT let the woman and children stay in the truck, but after he didn't find what he was looking for on the driver side he asked them to step out of the truck so he could look further. As they did, something caught my eye as odd with the woman and baby. I stepped over to the SGT and asked, “what are you looking for?”
“Just got a report from the Narc’s that this vehicle left a drug house they are keeping an eye on. I pulled them over for no tags, but I could smell the dope when he rolled down the window.”
I said, “there is something funny going on with the woman . . . look at how she’s holding that baby, something isn't right.”
The SGT says, “go keep an eye on the guy, I’m going to talk to her.”
I was out of earshot from the conversation the SGT had with the woman, but after a few moments the SGT grabbed a blanket out of the truck and they took the baby to the hood of the patrol car. He laid out the blanket and had the woman pull off the baby’s diaper . . . and it contained half a dozen small bags of crystal meth. He then searched the diaper bag and found the marijuana.
We called for another car and a state trooper came to assist. The trooper transported the man to the county facility. The SGT transported the woman and baby to the hospital until they could determine what to do with the baby before the woman was transported to the county facility. The 6 year old boy was assigned to me.
I was to take the boy to the sheriff’s office and wait until someone from Family Services could take possession of him. At the time, my oldest son was about his age. I knelt down and held out my hand to the boy and introduced myself. He took my hand and said, “my name is Adam.”
“Adam, I’ll let you sit up in the front seat but you’ll have to wear a seatbelt.”
“Okay.” He seemed to have a keen interest in his shoes because his eyes never seemed to waver from them.
As we pulled onto the highway and I turned the blue lights off I asked him what he’d had for supper. He said he hadn’t had any supper, in fact, I got out of him that he’d not eaten since breakfast and that was a bowl of cereal. It was nearing midnight by this time.
Now here I am, the new he-man deputy sheriff right out of the academy, with a brand new S&W 586, leather gear that still squeaked, ready to tame the world and I’m stuck with a 6 year old kid who hasn’t eaten all day and tugging at my heart strings.
“Well,” I said, “I bet the McDonald’s drive thru is still open, how about a Happy Meal.”
“Okay,” he said, but he never even looked up from staring at his shoes.
As we pulled into town about 20 minutes later the drive thru was indeed still open. I pulled up to place the order Adam looked up and said, “I ain’t never been here before”.
“What? You never been to this McDonalds?”
“No, I ain’t never been to a McDonalds. I’ve always wanted to, but Momma and Daddy always say no.”
We pulled up to the window and picked up his Happy Meal and when I handed it to him he said, “is this all mine?”
“Yes sir, it’s all yours!” I told him.
He opened it up and tore into those French fries like . . . , well, like a 6 year old who hasn’t eaten all day.
When we got to the sheriff’s office he’d finished his meal and I could not get him to shut up. It was "Deputy Faulkner" this and "Deputy Faulkner" that, but finally his batteries ran down and I got him to curl up in the chief deputies high back chair and go to sleep. Shortly thereafter, a representative from Family Services came and picked him up.
When I got back out to my car to do some paperwork, I pulled out my field notebook and made a notation in the very back: HAPPY MEAL – and I put one hash mark under it.
For eighteen years I’ve kept count of every Happy Meal that I’ve ever bought while on duty. I counted them up a few months ago and the number came up to 247. Last night I purchased number 250 for an 11 year old girl. I don’t remember every one I’ve bought through the years, but I'll never forget the first one I bought for a 6 year old boy named Adam.
When I was a rookie deputy sheriff I received a call around 11:00 PM one evening from dispatch to proceed to backup the shift SGT on a traffic stop in the northern part of the county. When I arrived on the scene on the side of the highway I could see that the SGT had pulled over a late model extended cab pickup truck. The driver, a white male around 30 years old, was standing on the side of the road and as I walked up the SGT asked me to keep an eye on him. Inside the truck, sitting in the passenger side seat, was a woman, white, also 30ish, holding a 8 or 9 month old baby. In the back seat of the pickup was a boy that I later found out was 6 years old.
The SGT had already determined probable cause to search the truck before I arrived and he commenced to do so. Since it was late at night and a chilly fall evening, the SGT let the woman and children stay in the truck, but after he didn't find what he was looking for on the driver side he asked them to step out of the truck so he could look further. As they did, something caught my eye as odd with the woman and baby. I stepped over to the SGT and asked, “what are you looking for?”
“Just got a report from the Narc’s that this vehicle left a drug house they are keeping an eye on. I pulled them over for no tags, but I could smell the dope when he rolled down the window.”
I said, “there is something funny going on with the woman . . . look at how she’s holding that baby, something isn't right.”
The SGT says, “go keep an eye on the guy, I’m going to talk to her.”
I was out of earshot from the conversation the SGT had with the woman, but after a few moments the SGT grabbed a blanket out of the truck and they took the baby to the hood of the patrol car. He laid out the blanket and had the woman pull off the baby’s diaper . . . and it contained half a dozen small bags of crystal meth. He then searched the diaper bag and found the marijuana.
We called for another car and a state trooper came to assist. The trooper transported the man to the county facility. The SGT transported the woman and baby to the hospital until they could determine what to do with the baby before the woman was transported to the county facility. The 6 year old boy was assigned to me.
I was to take the boy to the sheriff’s office and wait until someone from Family Services could take possession of him. At the time, my oldest son was about his age. I knelt down and held out my hand to the boy and introduced myself. He took my hand and said, “my name is Adam.”
“Adam, I’ll let you sit up in the front seat but you’ll have to wear a seatbelt.”
“Okay.” He seemed to have a keen interest in his shoes because his eyes never seemed to waver from them.
As we pulled onto the highway and I turned the blue lights off I asked him what he’d had for supper. He said he hadn’t had any supper, in fact, I got out of him that he’d not eaten since breakfast and that was a bowl of cereal. It was nearing midnight by this time.
Now here I am, the new he-man deputy sheriff right out of the academy, with a brand new S&W 586, leather gear that still squeaked, ready to tame the world and I’m stuck with a 6 year old kid who hasn’t eaten all day and tugging at my heart strings.
“Well,” I said, “I bet the McDonald’s drive thru is still open, how about a Happy Meal.”
“Okay,” he said, but he never even looked up from staring at his shoes.
As we pulled into town about 20 minutes later the drive thru was indeed still open. I pulled up to place the order Adam looked up and said, “I ain’t never been here before”.
“What? You never been to this McDonalds?”
“No, I ain’t never been to a McDonalds. I’ve always wanted to, but Momma and Daddy always say no.”
We pulled up to the window and picked up his Happy Meal and when I handed it to him he said, “is this all mine?”
“Yes sir, it’s all yours!” I told him.
He opened it up and tore into those French fries like . . . , well, like a 6 year old who hasn’t eaten all day.
When we got to the sheriff’s office he’d finished his meal and I could not get him to shut up. It was "Deputy Faulkner" this and "Deputy Faulkner" that, but finally his batteries ran down and I got him to curl up in the chief deputies high back chair and go to sleep. Shortly thereafter, a representative from Family Services came and picked him up.
When I got back out to my car to do some paperwork, I pulled out my field notebook and made a notation in the very back: HAPPY MEAL – and I put one hash mark under it.
For eighteen years I’ve kept count of every Happy Meal that I’ve ever bought while on duty. I counted them up a few months ago and the number came up to 247. Last night I purchased number 250 for an 11 year old girl. I don’t remember every one I’ve bought through the years, but I'll never forget the first one I bought for a 6 year old boy named Adam.
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