A week before Officer Fred Cannon stopped Mom for speeding, a confrontation between him and her had occurred in his office at the town jail. The occasion? Three other boys and myself were accused of overturning an outhouse on Halloween.
You have to understand that this scene did not take place in an interrogation room at LAPD with a good-cop, bad-cop routine attempting to break apart a gangbanger’s alibi. It took place in a small, stuffy police office in the middle of a town with a population of 1,150 people.
The accused – us four boys – sat on wooden chairs lined up in front of Officer Cannon’s desk. Our parents stood directly behind us. Cannon sat in a swivel chair behind his desk. A bright light shone over his left shoulder into our faces. No other lights were on.
Cannon laid out our despicable crime to everybody. He summed up by adding, “I know these boys are seniors in high school. They have high hopes of playing basketball on the school team this winter. But who knows? A crime like this could make them ineligible. What do you parents think?”
“Officer Cannon, whatever you decide, I’ll back you,” said one parent. Two other sets of parents nodded in agreement.
Cannon turned toward my parents. “What about the Nevenhoven’s?”
Mom glared at him. “Freddie, this is so stupid. I don’t really care what you do. We’re going square dancing!”
Mom and Dad turned around and left. The door slammed behind them.
The other three sets of parents began laughing. The accused – including me – laughed so hard we almost fall out of our chairs. The meeting ended moments later.
So,where’s the scriptural principle in all of this, right?
A man has joy in an apt answer, and how delightful is a timely word. (Proverbs 15:23)
Swimming Upstream appears at this blog site on Mondays, Wednesdays and Fridays. It’s a little of this and a little of that, all written to encourage and exhort believers in their Christian journeys.