Category: Police Action

World famous in New Zealand.

With the kind assistance of the second youngest Mr Reeve, I can proudly present to you the video of ‘my’ thing on 3 News.

Everyone who saw my extended appearance on the old TV show The Drum knows that if I talk too much, I say things I completely don’t mean, and regret it for years (it would have helped if the ever lovely Jennifer Weathercenter hadn’t asked such exclusively stupid questions).

Now, well, it turns out that if you do exactly what you’re told, you just end up being boring, and probably regret it a little bit then too.

One day I’ll do it all exactly how I want, and then I’ll be happy.

This first one is just the teaser bit, which features Claire, she didn’t speak on camera, but made a much better performance when she was interviewed for Radio Live than I ended up doing for TV3.

I didn’t put it up sooner, ‘cos I had to sort out a weird problem with the player completely messing up my whole page.

And this is the whole thing as played on TV3, I’m only on for like 8 seconds.

I don’t know where that line about seeing everything came from, I didn’t see everything, I never ever said I saw everything.  I heard the crash, I saw the car and driver go around the corner, then I saw the kid on the ground.  I didn’t see the crash, I didn’t see the kid flying through the air, or anything else.

The hit and run driver has “come forward.”

The woman mentioned earlier, presumably the owner of the car, has finally admitted to the police that she was the driver.  They’re still trying to find out why she didn’t stop (I’m guessing she was drink driving) and exactly which charges will be laid.

I’m very happy they got her.

I’m delighted to report that she was in her twenties, so we know I got that much right at least.  Now to find out if she has mid-length blonde or light brown hair, and so forth.

More police; parents suddenly take a greater interest in road safety.

The police came back after the media were done, blocked off the road again, and started taking measurements of all the debris, taking photos and such.

Senior sergent taking photos of scene.

I pointed out where the blood was on the road (it still hadn’t been marked) and the nice young lady officer duly marked and noted it, measuring it relative to the other debris.

Newly marked blood spatter, and measuring out the road.

We’ve been gardening a lot today, we’re having some more friends over for dinner tonight, so we’ve been able to watch everyone going by, it’s quite funny how so many of the parents with children are being really obviously careful, one woman with her daughter looking left and right and left and right and left and right then crossing by the police car, even though the road was closed and she was crossing by road cones and a police car.

I caught this lady having trouble getting her son to adhere to her new road safety regime, he was not keen on having his hand held, she sorted him out in the end.

Garth, police, and a naughty boy in the background.

That’s Garth, the little boy’s grandfather, by the senior sergeant.

The day after.

After last nights hit and run incident, our little corner of suburbia has turned into a popular place for journalists and gawkers, the (really nice and professional and gigantic) senior officer from last night did a standup in front of the kid’s house this afternoon, TV3 were there before I noticed anyone else, TVNZ came last, even after the radio and newspaper journos, and left first.  I think if TVNZ wants to know why their news viewership is dropping, they should think carefully about what being last on scene and first to leave means.

Journalists surround police officer.

Claire gave a quick interview to a nice young woman from Radio Live (which I think is Radio Pacific in drag, but who can be certain), then I did a standup with Alastair Wilkinson from TV3, unfortunately the format of television news meant I wasn’t able to be compelling or entertaining, and he kept having to ask me the same question and emphasised that I be as succinct as possible.  It turns out I’m not great at being both succinct and interesting, but as far as I saw I was the only witness willing to be interviewed, so I guess I’ll probably be on 3 News tonight.

Alasatair Wilkinson from TV3, in the background is the nice young lady from Radio Live.

It sounds like the police don’t have a super lot to go on, there must be hundreds, if not thousands of grey eighties four doors on Auckland’s roads, and how many white people do you think are driving them?  With any luck, one of the bastards semi-friends will see the damage on his car and do the right thing.

We spoke to the little boys grandfather, Garth, and he was very grateful that we were able to comfort his little boy last night, I told him I did what I could.  And it really wasn’t much, all I could do was stop people trying to move the boy and talk to him, so that’s what I did.  Dylan took his pulse ‘cos he could do that.  There were a lot of people on the street, many of them just watching, but a lot were helping, trying to make traffic go around us carefully, and so forth.

Blood on the road.

I guess the police missed the blood stains when they were marking out all the impact debris last night, I don’t really know how they use what they’ve got to recreate the accident, what they circled with spray paint just seems to arbitrary, why circle this bit of glass and not that bit?  And was the bit you circled moved by the throng of people on the road before you arrived?

Accident debris road markings.

Sometimes police action really sucks.

I spent 3 hours in the garden yesterday afternoon, mowing and edging and tidying and such, and then got back into it all again this morning, clambering up the pohutukawa to remove some of the climbing vines that were infesting the poor thing, ended up taking out a huge pile of the stuff, I mean, really, the pile was over a metre high and practically filled the whole BBQ area.

There was way more light coming through afterwards, but Claire wanted more, so I got out my trusty hand saw and excised a couple of the less healthy and more shading limbs, the afternoon was looking pretty good, so we decided to have a little BBQ, the first of the new season in fact – usually we don’t start until Labour Weekend, but you know how it is when you want over cooked meat.

We invited Dyland, Melanie & little Harrison, then kicked off into the city to visit Auckland Fish Market (which we’ve found to be way superior to Seamart) and the supermarket.

Got home a bit late to find Dylan and Melanie already sitting there waiting on the doorstep, which was pretty naughty of us.

Anyway, long story cut a little bit shorter, we cleaned the BBQ up after a year of neglect, cooked everything up, got a nice salad, shishkebobs of delicious big chunks of fresh tuna and salmon, chorizo, lamb chops, lemon juice steamed asparagus, and so forth.  All good.  We had a lovely meal, with the patio heater running, George hanging around begging for Sausage, and Edward dropping in now and then to attack whatever caught her eye.

Before jumping into dessert we decided to play another game Claire picked up – giant pick-up-sticks, believe it or not – and apart from a dispute over how to drop the suckers, it was actually more fun than you might have expected.

I’d just finished my second turn when we heard a loud smashing noise on the street, so we looked out over the hedge and saw a car tearing ass around the corner and down the street, sounded like he’d hit a parked car, so I looked where I thought that must have happened and couldn’t see anything, so then I thought he must have chucked a bottle out of his window as he was driving – which is something I’ve known mortard hoons to do before – so as we moved towards the front of the property we were looking for the that.

Instead of seeing broken glass spread down the road, we saw something much, much worse – a tiny little child, age around 3 or 4, lying face down on the road in front of our house.

I shouted to Claire to phone an ambulance, and Dyland and I hauled ass out the gate and ran over to the child on the ground – along with people coming from other properties around the intersection – I dropped to my knees and put my face in front of the kid – no sign of breathing, eyes shut, no moving, nothing.  Other people were crowding around, I said "open your eyes, can you look at me?" and I thought I could see a slight parting of the eyelids, so I said it again, this poor little baby had been hit incredibly hard, tumbled along the road, and had obvious head injuries, with large bulges in his forehead, bleeding – but not a lot.

Dylan was on his cellphone talking to 111, and Claire was on the cordless as well, giving descriptions of the car (grey mid-to-late eighties Honda 4 door), the little boy (no really close relatives seemed to be around, but his Uncle had turned up and told us his name was Joseph, up to that point everyone had actually thought he was a little girl) was slowly starting to come back to conciousness, opening his eyes a little bit more when I was talking to him, there was a great big guy there trying to make sure he didn’t move to much, and I kept saying "just lie there, don’t move, you’re going to be alright," Dylan took his pulse and said it was so weak he could hardly find it, the boy started to whimper and choke and moved his legs around, trying to roll over, Melanie had grabbed a blanket, so he was very carefully draped with that, and a towel was gently placed under his head.

The little boy was obviously terribly injured, and when he closed his eyes and sighed, I was afraid he’d just died before my eyes.  This is really not something you want to have happen.  Thankfully he opened his eyes again when I talked to him some more.

Eventually an ambulance arrived, and at pretty much the same time the first police patrol car arrived, so I went over to give a statement – and recognised the officer as an old schoolmate, John Brown – I gave him all the details I knew, about when things happened, what I saw, description of the car, and the driver (I only had a brief glimpse of the driver as he hauled ass off down the road – not even pausing or looking in his rear vision mirror), it looked like a white man, maybe in his 20s with blonde or light brown hair, reasonably slim, possibly wearing a check shirt, and with longish hair (not shoulder length, but longer than most) which might mean it was a woman, but who knows.

Police cars blocking off the intersection.

While I was talking to Constable John, Joseph was being checked over by the paramedics, 3 from the ambulance and one of those small car’ish ambo’s arrived as well (along with a bunch of other patrol cars and a motorcycle) he started to cry a lot when they put a collar around his neck, and beat his legs, so presumably they weren’t broken, though one of them had looked quite bent when he’d been lying face down.  But who knows.

Officers checking crash debris.

The police closed the road off, and moved everyone out of the way while they marked the road out with spraypaint, noting all the debris, trying to get a clear picture of where everything had happened, and once I’d given and signed my statement, I chatted to some neighbours who’d walked up the street to have a stickybeak.

Friendly neighbour having a look at all the commotion.

Eventually, the police were done taking statements and marking off the road and I lent one of our yard brooms (which was leaning up against the fence, having been used earlier today) to one of the officers to sweep broken glass off the street.

Dyland and Claire under the blossom tree chatting.

Claire, Dylan (with Harrison in baby-bopper mode) and Melanie, hung out while I took a few snaps.  In a way I wish I had photos of everything that happened earlier, it would help express how horrible the whole thing was. Of course, as there’s just no tasteful way that could possibly happen, you get to hear my adulterated thoughts.

After I’d taken my snaps, and virtually all of the police were gone, the senior seargent (or whatever) came over and spoke to us briefly, he said that when the ambulance arrived, the child was in their most serious category for people that are actually alive – but in the time he was in the car, they stabilised him up to their second most grave category.

Anyway, we tidied up a bit and went inside: it was time for dessert, vanilla icecream and delicious strawberries.

Dylan finished first, I finished second.

Dylan looking out the door.

Instead of strawberries, Harrison had delicious camera straps.

Harrison chewing the camera strap.

Parents, please don’t let your kids play on the street.  Also, teach your kids to take responsibility for their actions, and be careful drivers.