Cops here had a "scout" come into the townhome complex to pinpoint the target unit so the felony-warrant team could drive in and deploy with fast surprise.
One problem.
The "scout" attended the pre-raid briefing and wrote down on the back of his hand the address as he heard it. He wrote 250, not 215!
Fortunately it was Saturday and several of us had just visited 250 when the "scout" walked past us using a cell phone to describe his location. We did ask him if he was lost and he told us "get outta here now!" We saw the van arriving and him looking at 250 and putting on a "raid vest". One of my neighbors -- a woman with a voice like Ethel Merman -- told ask the guy, "Hey! You're not raiding a 69 year old cancer paitient's house are you?"
*Plonk*
Two of us slowed up the raid team saying "wrong address!" several times in a row. Zack, a 75 year old Korean war vet was knocked down and I was shoved into the bushes. Carol turned on them and yelled "Stop! You have the wrong house!" which finally sank in. A quick check of the addresses confimed. No thank you, no apologies, they just found the right address and did the raid.
It took two weeks for the PD to acknowledge their error. When we offered to meet them, they said "we've already addressed the matter". Zack asked the spokescop for the name of the division commander and was asked "Why do you want to know?". He replied "Because when this old Sergeant-Major goes to the press I want to be able to tell them which incompetent pencil-necked, a** kissing paper-pusher is responsible and you can bet I'll tell 'em YOU stonewalled us." We met with them 3 days later. Less than gratifying.
But 3 months later a new Chief was in and we sent him a letter about it. Not only did we meet with him, but the assistant Chief, Narcotics division commander, Training division commander, the raid Lieutenant and the 8-man raid team! We offered some carefully chosen words about disaster averted and suggestions to prevent it - like having every member see the address on the paperwork and repeat it aloud three times. The Chief, bless his political black heart, told them that every member of the team is responsible for ensuring the right house is hit. And we were given apologies by each member of the raid team (I think some of them tasted humility for the first time). Their training office now includes steps on verifying the address before the raid team deploys and the scout is responsible for aborting if children are playing nearby.
Footnotes:
Both the cancer paitient and Zack have since passed away. But all of us (4 of us actually, Zack's wife was also there) dressed in business attire for the first meeting. At the second meeting Zack wore his dress uniform and as a USMC Sergeant-Major with a 25 year hitch, two purple hearts and a bronze & silver star he was damned impressive. A young 20-something PD officer told him he couldn't bring his (ceremonial) sword into the building and he received a look that should have turned him to stone. Zack wore his sword. Semper Fi, Zack ol' buddy!
