By Eugene Gino Mahofski
We have journeyed from burglaries and robberies to highspeed chases and midnight patrol beats, with many dangerous situations coming and going. So much so, that, after almost 30 years of retirement, new memories still surface from time to time. Enter the “Three Hooligans,” who still bring a smile to my face.
We were subtly patrolling the lower end of our district as plainclothes detectives when quitting time finally rolled around. We had wrapped up an investigation and headed back to the station house, taking a short cut through Carnegie, Penn., a small borough just outside Pittsburgh.
Cruising on the main drag we saw some commotion ahead. As it turned out, there was a group of unruly teens throwing raw eggs at passing cars. Seeing the possibility of this causing an accident and injuries, we screeched up to the curb.
Jumping into action we rounded up three of the culinary crooks who were hurling the eggs with surprising accuracy. We had two problems:
#1: We had no jurisdiction in Carnegie, Penn.
#2: No motorist wanted any police action taken.
We chose one solution: We identified ourselves as task force officers and gave the teens a lecture on the unintended consequences of seemingly innocent mischief.
The trio penitently sat on the sidewalk, offering up sorrow, prayers and assurances that this would never happen again. We started with confiscating their oval-shaped ammo. Of course, this is not the end of the story; it was just too hard to resist. In the mood of the night, “someone” hatched a plan that would provide ample punishment.
Gathering on-lookers, we smiled and laughed as the stunned boys got a little payback. Yes, we gave them a taste of their own medicine and smashed a few eggs on their melons. We beat it out of the area before the Carnegie Police arrived on site.
No one complained; telephone pictures weren’t a thing yet. We were the only police officers that knew what happened that evening, until now. “Who were those crazy plainclothes detectives,” we jokingly asked ourselves on the way back to the station.
I often wondered if those young men ever told their families about that night. A little bit of street justice could be handed out then, but perhaps not today with all the oversensitivity going around. In the end, whose idea was it to resolve the incident with the cracking of the eggs?
Of course, I have the right to remain silent!
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