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I got a call about a fight in a rural bar, and a crazy man had run everyone out of the bar and was in there alone.

Bar fights weren't usually my beat as a Highway Patrolman, but I was the only LEO available in the county right then.
Being forewarned by the patrons and bar owner about what was going on, I put on my riot helmet and grabbed a riot baton.

When I went in, he had a pool cue and we went to war. He was too drunk to be very dangerous but he weighed 295 and couldn't feel any pain.
I split his forehead open,(that really pissed him off) I broke his collar bone, and a couple of ribs, before he quit.

Iggy was a lone wolf mountain man type.
On the way to town, he said, "Damn, you're nasty with that stick!"

While he was in the hospital I was his only visitor.
When he was released from the hospital, I took him to court and to jail. He got 30 days.
I was his only visitor.

When he got out of jail, I took him back to his mountain.

When he treed the bar again, they called me.
He would be on the fight until I walked in
He would say "Aw hell, I can't fight you, you're my friend." He would grin and hold out his hands for the cuffs.
From then on when Iggy got into trouble, they would call me on or off duty and I would go get him.
Over the years we became good friends.

I told him if he got drunk and killed someone in a car wreck I would never forgive him.

One day I was called to investigate a wreck on the mountain. It was Iggy and he had run off the road and wrapped his car around a tree. He was pinned in the car. I crawled in the car with him.
He looked at me and said, "Chip, I didn't kill anyone else."

I said,"Yeh, Iggy, I know" and he died.

I was the only one at his funeral and I spread his ashes on his mountain.
People couldn't understand why I went to all the bother with someone like that.
All I could tell them was," Aw hell, Iggy was my friend."
 
30 year retired big city Law...
Very brief period in uniform before I went
to soft threads.
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I spent most of my adult life as both an educator and a pastor of a small Baptist church. A frequent southern tradition, at least among Baptists, is to address the Pastor as "Bro. firstname" rather than "Reverend."
So Bro. Dave was a name to which I answered habitually.

The added bonus of the legacy of Bro. Dave Gardner as a comedian just put frosting on the cake.
 
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