Elmo

One reason I selected my college was I needed an urban area where jobs would be available to work my way through school. The job I held the longest was as a store detective with a department store chain. Now, that would be called a loss control specialist, or some such thing.

I interviewed for the job at the downtown location. When offered the position, I said that I guessed people without seniority would probably be assigned to that store.

The interviewer smiled. “You’re not from around here, are you?” I said that I had been in town a short time. “We’re going to break you in easy with a nice suburban location. Chuck will give you directions to the Swifton Shopping Center.”

They must’ve had a big laugh about that. Swifton was a war zone.

But, that made it easy to get one’s quota. Addicts prowled it at all hours, scooping up goods to fence to finance their habits. Things really picked up when the rough high school across the street would let out in the afternoon. They’d descend on the place like locusts.

I adapted and the location was convenient for me. When scheduling elsewhere came up, I didn’t volunteer. But, sometimes you were assigned.

One place I didn’t like was Cherry Grove. Aside from being on the other side of town, the shoplifting traffic ran heavily to teenage girls from well-off families, stealing on a lark. When arrested, they fell apart. I preferred dealing with the career criminals to that mess.

I was thinking of this as I stood in line at a convenience store. The man in front of me was an immense individual. Like Elmo.

I had been assigned to a day shift in the downtown store. After completing it, I was doing some paperwork in the office when an assistance code was broadcast.

I ran down to the front entrance and there was a huge man with a radio under his arm, dragging three detectives out the door. One on each arm and the third clutching onto his leg.

A technique was to lift someone off his feet. Without balance or traction, he was more controllable. Since Elmo, this guy, looked to be about 350 lbs., that seemed out of the question. So, I leaped onto his back.

Bad move. He flicked me away like a fly.

Still, it had cost him some balance and he put down a hand to support his forward lean. I jumped up and slapped a cuff on his wrist. Then I stomped it down, tight. Another technique.

That worked. It wasn’t long before he was begging for relief. The condition for that was that he let me manacle his wrists and ankles. His feral eyes bored into me as I put them on. I wouldn’t be getting a Christmas card from him.

Fast forward a year. My girlfriend called. Her father worked in the Over-the-Rhine area and had a flat tire. Something was wrong with the jack. Could I go help him?

My car was in the shop so I jogged down there. He had set up the jack too far from the car. The weight of it bent the jack in half. The front bumper was just about resting on the ground.

As I was contemplating the options, the crowd of spectators parted to allow an enormous man to stride toward us. It was Elmo. The tire might not be the only thing smashed on the street.

He walked right up to me and said, “When I pick up the car, switch the tires.”

“Huh?” I understood what he said, but it seemed improbable. This was a full size Pontiac with the big block V8 sitting right behind the flat.

“I’m going to pick up the car. Reach through my legs, take off that wheel and put on the spare.”

He grabbed the edge of the wheel well and I squatted behind him. He heaved at it and the car rose. I pulled off the flat and rolled the spare into position, quickly tightening a few of the lug nuts.

I thanked him, offering a five. He waved it off and walked away. Whether he recognized me or not, I couldn’t tell.

The postscript is that a week later, I had to try it. Could barely budge the car. A buddy joined in and we didn’t have much more movement. Elmo was one strong specimen.

I wonder about him and theorize that he was basically a good person who had found himself in a desperate situation that compelled him to steal. I hope things worked out better for him.