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Behind the Tape… By Cpl. Richard Dascall TYBEE BEACHCOMBER | OCT 2017 37 Something about experiencing hurricane season on Tybee tends to remind me of the movie Forrest Gump. This may be due to the fact that portions were filmed locally, or the possibility of reenacting the internal, existential crisis that unfolded as Lt. Dan took his wild ride through a hurricane on the mast of a shrimp boat. After viewing the movie countless times, and living through several hurricanes, I’ve determined that the inspiration for this scene was not due to the loss of life under his leadership in Vietnam, or the loss of his legs, but probably due to the loss of electricity for prolonged periods of time. In fact, the more I think about it, the more I’m convinced humanity is taking an evolutionary turn, back into the water. As a former flatlander, and even that ‘weird mountain phase’ of my youth, it’s a safe assumption that my exhibition of proficiency as a suave, debonair gentleman of leisure has never correlated with elevation. As a young professional, I once considered myself a ‘rising star’ in parks & recreation circles, yet experience and wisdom later proved my initial rise to be based more upon ambition than awareness. The first hurricane I experienced, firsthand, was back in 2004 – followed by three more storms, in weekly succession. The fabled hurricane season of 2004 saw four consecutive hurricanes make landfall on either side of Florida - my residence, in those days. Oddly enough, it’s funny what you recall years later, but I seem to recall each storm making landfall on a Friday evening . . . You cannot imagine the frustration level of our area high school football coaches! Later, it was determined that several of our local athletes also excelled in swimming, as a result of growing gills that football season. In those days, I served as the Parks & Recreation Director for the Town of Lady Lake, a tiny town along the Highways 441/301 corridor, in central Florida. Lady Lake is contiguous to The Villages, and a portion of the commercial development district (or CDD) is actually within the city limits. If you aren’t familiar with The Villages, just imagine Senior Disney, or a slice of Americana - if the sixties had never occurred – the 1860s or 1960s. Since that time, when reconnecting with my colleagues from that era, one of the first fond memories is usually a shared experience when we were bunkered together, side-by-side, awaiting the winds to subside. So many lessons learned about people, interpersonal dynamics, and coming to terms with the importance of relationships have come during actual, proverbial, and metaphorical storms of physical, mental, & emotional anguish. Simply stated, hurricane season places people in situations they would never willingly place themselves through the necessity of living through it. For those working through the storm, the concept of selfpreservation while having to act on behalf of another can be overwhelming. As you can imagine, not everyone is suited for this type of work. At this point, all I’m certain about is the longer you live at the coast, the more hurricanes become the social equivalent of tree rings. From the RIVER’S END... By Woody Hemphill Hey Everyone! First let me start by saying I hope everyone made it through the storm in good health. And to all of those who suffered catastrophic water damage to your homes, you have our deepest sympathy and willingness to help you recover from this in any way possible. In my eight years working for the police department and twenty four years spending time on this island, I can never once remember water coming up that high. The closest thing I remember to that was about twenty years ago when St. Michaels school used to flood. But as we all know, Tybee continues. We made it through Labor Day and have Pirates Fest on the horizon. Labor Day brought about one of the better capers of my career. As some of you know I am permanently assigned to beach patrol. As such, the majority of my work involves glass bottles, dogs on the beach, and public intoxication. But Labor Day brought with it a different sort of incident. Later in the evening before the fireworks, we received a walk up complaint about a male walking up and down the beach trying to sell marijuana out of his backpack. Not too much later we received that complaint again from our dispatch center. So while we were making our ride down the beach, standing at the 14th St. crossover, we saw a subject matching the description to a T, including the black and brown backpack. So we asked the guy if we could talk to him. He could have said no, but he was nice enough to have a conversation with us. We then asked if we could see the inside of his backpack. Again he could have said no, but was nice enough to open it for us. Inside we saw a plastic jar full of marijuana. After a closer look we found six more of those jars, as well as a scale and a large amount of cash. This gentleman swore up and down that the marijuana was for personal use. It weighed out at 3.5 ounces. More than enough for a felony charge. Looking forward to Pirates Fest. I hope everyone gets their parrots and peg legs in order. And as always, if the police department can help you in any way please feel free to contact us.


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