The Police Station
An Unforgettable Experience
Have you ever had an experience at a police station you will never forget? For me, that would be when we drove to the police station to retrieve our 15 year-old middle daughter, Beth.
It was 1990, a Saturday, and Beth and her friend, Kim, (not her real name) asked to be dropped off for a few hours at the mall, a local teen gathering place. When we dropped them off at the door, we told them to call when they were ready to leave and we would come and get them.
We only had a few rules, but we felt they were the most important rules. I can't say we were overly strict with our three girls, but we were always extra careful. Beth knew the rules and usually followed them.
1. They had a curfew and we enforced it.
2. Fifteen was too young to date or ride in cars with boys.
3. We expected to know where they were and who they were with. If they left to go somewhere else, they were to call so we wouldn't worry.
4. We made sure we knew their friends and their parents.
Drugs are bad. No drugs.
Not long after we got back home, a police officer called and asked if I was Mrs. O’Brien (my ex-married name) and did I have a daughter named Beth. I immediately thought the worst. “Oh my God, please tell me she’s alright! What happened? Is Beth okay?”
The officer assured me she was fine. She was in a room at the station. I could come to get her —just not right away. “I assure you, your daughter isn't in any trouble, Mrs. O’Brien. The boys are both underage and their parents are here now. The boys take full responsibility. They explained that the girls didn't even know about the wine coolers.”
Mentally, I was unable to process what the man was saying. Boys? Underage? Wine Coolers? Wait! WAIT! What was Beth doing in a car with boys and wine coolers?
“Mrs. O’Brien, we put the boys in one squad car and the girls in the back of mine. By the way, I don't think you will have any further problems with Beth. The whole way to the station, she was sobbing and saying over and over …”
“Please don't shoot me, please don’t shoot me, please don't shoot me.”
“Here at the station, she apologized several times and asked me please not to handcuff her or put her in jail. Then she said you would be disappointed in her and she cried some more.”
“I’m very sorry, officer. I’ll come to the station right away. Again, I am so sorry! Beth has never been a child who gets into trouble. She’s a good girl.”
“Mrs. O’Brien, listen to me, she is NOT in any trouble. Here’s the story as we heard it from her friend, Kim, and both boys.
At the mall tonight, the two boys from their school asked if they wanted to go on an errand with them. It would only take a few minutes and they would bring the girls right back.
Beth told them she couldn't go, but the boys said they would bring them back in a few minutes. Kim told her no one would even know they had been gone. So, Beth finally agreed.
As I understand it, the boys drove to the rest area, parked the car, and ran into a treed area. When they came back to the car a few minutes later, each was carrying a six-pack of wine coolers.
That's when our two black and whites pulled in, one on either side of the boys’ car, lights flashing, sirens turned on —-just for effect actually, but it worked.
Look, give it some time, before you come to the station for Beth. There’s nothing you could say that will make her feel worse than she already does. It’s been good for her, sitting and thinking. I’d say she’s been ‘scared straight’.
Besides, my partner and I haven't had this much fun in a long time!”
Note: The experience at the police station made Beth think twice about giving in to peer pressure. She told her dad and me, it taught her something valuable ---to always trust her own judgment.
Now nearly 50, Beth has a college degree in Psychology, is married to her high school sweetheart, and they have four grown children.
I’m proud of the woman Beth has become ---and the daughter she has always been.
I love you, Bethie.
Poet/Writer/Author of 5 books.
Quora Top Writer 2018.
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