WPA-Women in Law Enforcement and an Accident Response

By Maris Soule http://marissoule.com/blog/

My learning experiences at Writers’ Police Academy continued early Friday morning when we stepped off the bus that took us from the Marriott Hotel to Guilford Technical Community College/Public Safety and were herded over to an “accident scene.”

Car has driven into group at a garage sale

The “scene” was that a drunk driver lost control of his car and ran into a garage sale. Two victims (one a child) were pinned under the car. (These two “victims” were dummies…and I don’t mean stupid.) Around the car were injured men and women along with a tipped-over table and merchandise that had been for sale. The demonstration began when a police officer arrived, supposedly responding to a 9-1-1 call. He assessed the scene and called for backup. The 9-1-1 dispatcher also sent the fire department, and once the EMTs assessed the injuries, ambulances were called for.

Helping a victim

It was like a 3-ring circus. In one area the two officers questioned the driver, put the driver through several “sobriety” tests, and finally handcuffed the man and took him away. Meanwhile, on the other side of the car the EMTs were going around to all of the victims and cataloguing them by the severity of their injuries. They then took the appropriate action, first quickly removing those with the least serious injuries from the scene, and then providing care to those with more serious injuries. While that was going on, the firemen used both an inflatable airbag and the jaws-of-life to lift the car and extract the two bodies from under it. After the injured were taken away in ambulances, the two dead bodies were placed in body bags and placed in ambulances. End of demonstration.

You can see how they lifted the car

We then had the opportunity to ask questions.

From there we broke up into different groups, depending on what we were interested in hearing/seeing or what team we’d signed up for. I went to “Women in Law Enforcement.”

C.D. Netter, a sergeant with the Guilford County Sheriff’s Office, has been in law enforcement for 17 years. Many of those years have been spent as a prison guard or supervisor. She said the sad thing is so many of the inmates in prison are mental patients with nowhere else to go since so many mental facilities have closed over the years (usually due to budget cuts). She’s also seeing a lot of Vets with PTSD. At least in prison they are safer, have shelter, food, and some counseling, but she didn’t feel it was the best situation for them.

Sgt. Netter said initially women in law enforcement were placed in limited roles, usually desk jobs. That’s changed over the years though some men still have problems with women supervisors. With both the inmates and other officers, it’s how you carry yourself. If you look and act like you’re in control, you’ll be treated accordingly. In fact, she said women patrol officers have proven to be more effective than men in avoiding violence and in establishing conflict control. Men, she said, see women as “Mom on duty.” And, if a man fights with a woman and loses, he loses face. Facing a woman, there’s no testosterone battle. Also, over the years, police departments have discovered that women are better at writing reports. Women include more details and that pays off in court, so women have been teaching their male counterparts to put more in writing.

For those writing female law enforcement romances, Netter said it is far more difficult for a female to date/marry a man who isn’t in law enforcement than the other way around. Many women find a man in uniform sexy; whereas, many men are intimidated by a woman carrying a gun. It affects their egos. And it’s difficult when a woman can’t talk about the job and might need to cancel a date or leave in the middle of a date because of an on-going investigation or police emergency. It’s for those reasons that many female LEs marry other officers.

Since my present wip (work-in-progress) involves a female police officer, I found all of this information interesting and helpful in forming my protagonist’s thought process.

More next week.

I believe God wants you to know that you must be good to yourself if you are ever going to be any good for others.

This means take a day off once in a while when it’s not scheduled.  Eat of piece of chocolate when it’s not recommended.  Take a nap when it’s just not possible.

Get your face into a good book for an hour when you can’t afford to. Soak in a tub when there’s no time to. Stop everything when you’re not supposed to. Do this now, right now, for goodness sake. www.CWGPortal.com

God wants you to know that the salvation of this human world lies nowhere else than in the human heart, in the human power to reflect, in human meekness and human responsibility.

Vaclav Havel said that and he was right. Some people say that our salvation lies with God, or with God’s Son, yet is not the human heart the place where such Divinity is found?

Therefore open your heart, and open TO your heart, that you may hear its call to reflect, to be meek, and to be responsible. www.CWGPortal.com

The Magic of Ireland

By Jeanne Charters

So, this is the tale of two women. Very different women. First, there was me, really years short of being a woman at eighteen but, like most girls that age, quite certain I knew the scoop on everything. It’s wonderful to be eighteen-years-old, pretty, confident, and smug that your life is going to be a dazzling road of utter joy. Especially since you have snagged the coolest boy in your small town. A handsome, smart, well-off young man who would two years later propose marriage. For purposes of continuity, I will call him Studly. But I’m getting ahead of myself.

The second woman’s name was Florence. Florence was fifty-years-old, had never married (Studly and his two brothers called her an old maid). Truth be told, so did I. We paid little heed to the fact that Florence had enjoyed a successful career in fashion merchandising, had traveled the world, and had spent a year in Italy. I later heard that she had been having an affair with an Italian man during that entire time. Gasp! Florence?

Well anyway, the way I met Florence was when Studly’s father decided to marry her. His wife had died the year before (a long, lingering cancer death that everyone in my town mourned). She was a much beloved figure there.

Turns out Florence had been Studly’s mother’s college roommate at St. Mary’s of Notre Dame a hundred years earlier and had always had a crush on Arters, her pet name for he who would become my future father-in-law.

So, after a very brief (some called it scandalous) engagement, Arters and Florence decided to get married. I was invited to the wedding and traveled to another state with Studly and his two brothers. The wedding was nice—simple and Catholic, and the reception boozy. Coming from a non-drinking home, I was kind of surprised at the amount of champagne Arters, Studly, and the other brothers consumed. Were I smarter, I’d have recognized a red flag that day, but, of course, in my smug stupor of “knowing everything,” I thought it was cool.

We drove them to a train station. They were heading to Manhattan for a honeymoon. As the train pulled away huffing and pouring out steam, the two newlyweds stood on a back platform and kissed. Yuck! My three male companions started tittering. “What’s funny?” I asked.

Studly said, “Do you think they’ll do it?” A roar of laughter went up from his brothers.

When I figured out what do it he was talking about, I shook my head and said, “No, they’re much too old.” After all, they were both fifty-years-old. Lord God Almighty, nobody that old still did it. Meanwhile, I was coming from the naive place of virginity with absolutely no knowledge about what doing it was all about.

After I married Studly at age 20, my time with Florence was challenging. I had four babies in close succession, and Florence and Arters’ mansion was hardly child proof.

I spent most of my visits there trying to keep one of my little hellions (Arters’ word, not mine) from breaking some priceless chochka or smearing a poopie diaper on an oriental rug. I developed a terrible problem with shortness of breath during those visits and Florence suggested I needed an X-ray of my lungs.

My kids hated those visits and so did I. But as the years passed, my girls became civilized—relatively—and were welcome in the family manse until their own babies came along. Funny, isn’t it that history repeating itself can be amusing if you’re not the one responsible for the damages.

Anyway, years later, after alcoholism had claimed the lives of both Arters and Studly, Florence and I finally became friends. I had remarried by then, an Italian man who wanted to show me Europe. His immigrant family, though short on funds, always managed to travel back, whereas mine and Studly’s parents never considered leaving America.

It helped that my new husband, Matt, could speak a smattering of French and German and that travel to Europe then was pretty affordable. Fly there, rent a car, and drive through four or five countries, staying in Zimmer Freis or B&Bs that cost a song. I loved it!

Finally, though, I had a strong desire to see the land of my heritage—Ireland. Matt was game because he realized how frustrated I got with my inability to communicate in Italy, France, and Austria.

We went back to my hometown for a visit with my folks. While there, I called Florence. She invited me over to her apartment for tea, and I was really happy to see her again. Here was our conversation.

“Florence, we’ve been all around Europe now, seen the Alps in all their splendor, and now want to go to Ireland. I know you’ve been everywhere. I don’t want Matt to be disappointed in Ireland. It would break my heart.”

She smiled her ancient smile. By now, Florence was a very old woman. “Jeanne, every country you’ve seen has its own beauty. So does Ireland. But there’s a difference.  Ireland is magical.”

She was right. We just returned from our third trip there. It has inspired for me the writing of my first novel, Shanty Gold, which will be published next year. Thank you, Florence. You were right. Ireland is indeed magical.

William T. Delamar’s three novels, The Hidden Congregation, Patients in Purgatory and The CareTAKERS, have been acquired by Rogue Phoenix Press!

The Hidden Congregation

Set in Philadelphia, Pennsylvania, this riveting, scandalous novel, reveals how far an evil influence will take you and how grace will bring you back.

When reading this, you will ask yourself, “What happened to them?” What did will shock you! This is a combination of sci-fi, fantasy, mystery, and a tad bit of horror that equals thriller. It is what made them do what they did that blows you away. Delamar brings all the facets of the book together and glues it with the humanity of the pastor.

Reverend Oxford Christie has received a call to serve the Church of the One Soul in Philadelphia.

A deep secret haunts this large church with such few members, one they all thought would never surface…again.

***

Patients in Purgatory, the second the Reverend Christie mystery series.

A niece of one of Rev. Ox Christie’s parishioners is supposed to be rehabilitating in the Night and Day Nursing Home. She alerts her uncle, a parishioner of Church of the One Soul, of the odd occurrences such as people being there one day and gone the next, unexplained surgeries and doped-up/zombie-like residents which triggers an unexpected surge of visitors from Ox’s church. Their presence and the sleuthing ability of Ox helps to unravel a complex organ harvesting ring and body diamond cremations.

As sadistic as it may sound, such crimes do happen, even right under our noses. Bodies of hundreds of deceased were found in the woods of Twiggs County, Georgia when a funeral home was found to charge families for caskets, which they just reused, discarding the bodies. And you can actually have the ashes of your loved one compressed into a diamond. Such events are the basis for Delamar’s riveting novel. http://www.forevermarkdiamond.com/us

***

The CareTAKERS, a mystery/thriller…

Doug Carpenter, a new administrator, the third in four years, at Eastern Medical College Hospital, fights hospital power politics and physician greed while trying to provide a good setting for patient care. This combative scene forms a constant barrier to a successful, smooth-running operation and creates a threat to Doug’s own position, but that’s not all…There’s a patient suicide, an alcoholic anesthesiologist, an “angel of death,” a genocidal doctor and a union strike.

In reality this does happen, but it does so for Doug in only a matter of weeks; challenging his every emotion, diplomatic expertise, morals and ethics while strengthening his faith in God and humanity.

Bill Delamar grew up in Durham, North Carolina, in a home full of books. In high school, he worked part-time at the Duke University Press, further increasing his love for literature. Currently, he resides in Melrose Park, Pennsylvania in a house which resembles a library from basement to third floor. Delamar served in the navy as a weatherman, has a B.A. from the University of Pittsburgh and an M.S. from Antioch University. He has thirty-five years’ experience in hospital administration and was recently honored as a founding member of the Hospital Management and Information Systems Society which grew from twenty-eight members to thousands internationally. He is on the board of the Philadelphia Writers Conference, having served five times as president.  Having been involved in the literary arts most of his life, he contributed a chapter in the textbook, Hospital Industrial Engineering, co-authored a creativity text, Brain-Webbing and contributed to Weymouth, a book of poetry. Delamar’s novel, The Brother Voice (Shannon & Elm Publishing, 2014), takes place during the Civil War. He is currently working on the sequel, The Other Voice. He and his wife, Gloria, also a writer, are collaborating on a nonfiction book and a mystery series focusing on husband and wife amateur sleuths. www.delamar.org Represented by Loiacono Literary Agency www.loiaconoliteraryagency.com  Published by Rogue Phoenix Press www.roguephoenixpress.com

Pre-order Last Bigfoot in Dixie by Wally Avett NOW!!

Published by Bell Ridge Books

www.bellebooks.com

(release September 2014)

Pre-order NOW!

Amazon

Deep in the peaceful, Smokie Mountains of North Georgia, a huge black bear kills a child in a campground and the hunt begins. Wade, an outdoors-man and backwoods columnist, is quickly deputized to find and slay the massive beast terrorizing tourists and locals alike.

A giant Cherokee, wannabe-writer whose gifts are enhanced by mushroom trances and a Minnesota Vikings horn-helmet, offers to help and proves a modern Sasquatch when he tracks the mythic, killer bear Ol’ Nathan.

But that is the least of the small town’s worries.

In their pursuit, they encounter a cannabis compound, an authentic Appalachian psychopath, an albino savant called White Willie and rumors of buried Yankee gold surface turning the quiet hamlet into a cauldron of death and fear.

Maris Soule and the Writers’ Police Academy.

If you want to know how to accurately write about crime and police work, this is a must attend event!!

http://marissoule.com/blog/

Just a few more weeks…Last Big foot in Dixie by Wally Avett

Wally Avett’s novel of suspense and terror, Last Big foot in Dixie, will hit the book shelves by the end of September.

Deep in the peaceful, Smokie Mountains of North Georgia, a huge black bear kills a child in a campground and the hunt begins. Wade, an outdoors-man and backwoods columnist, is quickly deputized to find and slay the massive beast terrorizing tourists and locals alike.

A giant Cherokee, wannabe-writer whose gifts are enhanced by mushroom trances and a Minnesota Vikings horn-helmet, offers to help and proves a modern Sasquatch when he tracks the mythic, killer bear Ol’ Nathan.

But that is the least of the small town’s worries.

In their pursuit, they encounter a cannabis compound, an authentic Appalachian psychopath, an albino savant called White Willie and rumors of buried Yankee gold surface turning the quiet hamlet into a cauldron of death and fear.

www.wallyavett.com Published by BelleBooks www.bellebooks.com and represented by Loiacono Literary Agency www.loiaconoliteraryagency.com

The Irish and Catholicism

September 9, 2014  Jeanne Charters

In Shanty Gold, Mary Boland experiences a crisis of faith. Can she stay in a church that she believes is treating women in a manner sometimes injurious to their health, both physical and mental?

I shared the same issue many years ago. A cradle Catholic, I found myself at odds with many of my church’s teachings, particularly in regard to birth control. When I divorced my first husband after eighteen years and four children, I no longer felt welcome in my church. I stayed away longer than did Mary—nearly twenty-eight years. I missed the Catholic Church every day of those years. I tried other religions, but none worked for me.

Finally, I came to peace with my church and healed my resentments by co-leading a group called Landings. Landings was created by a priest to welcome back anyone who has left the church and wants to come back. It’s gentle and nonjudgmental, and the healing I received by hearing other women’s resentments and seeing their tears was miraculous. I wasn’t alone.

I go to Mass every Sunday now. Though I believe abortion is a tragedy and thank God I never had to have one, I am pro-choice. My church is an institution and like all institutions, some of its dictums are hard to justify or understand. However, my church does so much good in the world. I must focus on that aspect of being Catholic.

I am so grateful to be back. Maybe things will change when women are priests.http://jeannecharters.com/

Shadows On Iron Mountain by Chuck Walsh is now available!

Chuck Walsh’s long-awaited Tennessee thriller, Shadows On Iron Mountain, represented by Loiacono Literary Agency www.loiaconoliteraryagency.com, published by Champagne Book Group www.champagnebooks.com  is now available.

Champagne Books 

Amazon

B&N

Shelfari

Kobo

Chuck Walsh makes you want to visit Tennessee, but scares you so bad you may never go. A get-away in a cozy cabin, a hike on the Appalachian Trail, a simple stop-n-take a scenic photo and BAM! your life is no longer yours. I have visited this beautiful state which seems so tranquil—the changing of the leaves, the rustle of the brook, the song of the bobwhite—but between the covers of Shadows on Iron Mountain, Walsh lets you in on the clannish nature of a self-governed mountain people…and what lengths they will go to keep it that way, no matter the cost. Highly recommended! Can’t wait for the sequel, Backwoods Justice (2015)!!! www.chuckwalshwriter.com

Shadows On Iron Mountain –What happens on Iron Mountain, usually does not leave it — literally or physically… There is an abductor of women with the tendency to silence them permanently, when he is no longer amused; removing any and all obstacles – human specifically.

Jason and Kara are excited about their romantic, mountain get-away until they arrive at their secluded cabin on Iron Mountain. Although Kara immediately wants to head for a motel, Jason talks her into staying. The first night she sees someone outside the cabin, the next day she goes to the fridge to get a drink and disappears without a trace. She is not the first and won’t be the last. Iron Mountain has a rapist/murderer hiding in its depths. Thomas Jordan, a detective from the Tennessee Bureau of Investigation, is called in to dissect Iron Mountain, if need be, to find Kara. What he finds are mountain people who won’t turn in their own; willing to kill anyone who tries to ascend their fortress, and a mounting number of floating female corpses in Doe Creek.

Walsh holds your unwavering attention from the first sentence and refuses to let you go until the last word, or does he ever let go at all?