This article is from December 2019. It was posted on another platform where I tried to communicate with fellow Patriots, but that platform repeatedly censored me -- without telling me why. I will be moving all of my Notes from there to here in the coming weeks.
For some reason, I couldn’t sleep. Woke up about 3:00 am, called the dispatcher at work, and told him to call me if something came up -- not to call the on-duty detectives. I was starting the day shift that day and would be on call from 4:00 am until my 8:00 am shift anyway. No need to bother anyone else if I’m already up.
I started the coffee and then hit the shower. Got dressed and was getting ready to go out the door, and the phone rang. It was Snake at dispatch. There had been an armed robbery at the 7-11 on the Highway going toward the city of Raceland. The dispatcher told me that the perp matched the description of two previous robberies that had happened that same night in the city limits.
When I got to the scene, I questioned the lone employee in the store who was robbed. She gave me a very detailed description of him and his vehicle. Medium height and stocky build, dark complexion, spoke with a heavy flat Cajun accent, wearing dark blue coveralls -- like a uniform, used a revolver and was very polite.
She told me he was very polite, “He said, ‘Excuse me, mam, this is a robbery.’”
She didn’t know the make and model of the car, but she described it as a very big 4-door automobile, not a late model, beige color, and had a single radio antenna on the back trunk lid -- commonly used on CB radios.
It hit me like a hurricane storm surge. I knew this guy. I worked with him before when I was younger. I also recognized the car. I asked her if the hood of the car had chrome slits on both sides. She said, “Yes.” It was one of those old Buick Electras with the trademark chrome hood slits -- the same kind of car that he had.
By the time I was wrapping things up at the scene, the sheriff arrived and asked me about what was going on. I told him, “I think I know who did this. I know him. I know his car. It all matches him to a tee.” The sheriff just chuckled and said, “Good. Go pick him up.”
I also knew that his employer also had dark blue coveralls as their work uniform. I had Communications call their Human Resources head at home, who was able to give us his address. I told dispatch to notify PD of the address, but asked them please not to approach him because I know him, and I think I can get him to come in with me without any incident.
When I arrived at his home, there were marked and unmarked PD units everywhere; but to their credit, they waited for me. They were ready for bear, but they stood down until I got there.
His house was surrounded. It was still dark in the neighborhood of side-by-side wood frame houses. The only light anywhere came from street lights and lights from people’s homes. Walking up to his carport, it was black; but there was the beige Buick Electra with the CB antenna. Placing my hand on the hood, I could have almost fried an egg on it. The hood was still hot from the night of robberies.
There was no doorbell. I stepped onto the first of the three concrete steps to the carport door and knocked. PD had people behind me, on the other side of the door and on the other side of the car.
A woman answered the door.
“Are you Mrs. Bergeron?” She said she was. I identified myself, told her that I was a friend of her husband and that I needed to talk to him. She told me he was sleeping. I told her that I had something important to ask him and to please wake him.
When Paul came to the door, he was rubbing his eyes and yawning and acting disoriented -- as if he had been sleeping.
I said, “Paul, have you allowed someone to use your car last night and early this morning?” He told me that he had not and that the car had been parked all night. “Well,” I said, “someone used a car that looks just like yours and robbed three 7-11 stores in the last six hours. The hood on your car is still hot -- like it’s been running hard.”
Paul didn’t say a word. There was a very uncomfortable pause. I broke it by telling Paul that he needed to come with me downtown and help me figure out who used his car to rob those stores. Paul agreed to come and turned from the door to go get dressed.
PD officers followed him inside to watch him get dressed. I waited outside with the other officers. I didn’t handcuff Paul. I put him in the front seat with me, and we rode downtown -- talking all the way. I read him his Miranda rights and told him that cooperating and telling me all that he knew would be of benefit to him.
Within an hour of reaching the office, making coffee and talking, Paul admitted to all of it. His motive? He wasn’t making enough money. He had a newborn baby that was hungry. He used the money to buy formula for his newborn.
Long story short, when Paul’s case came to court, I testified not only as the arresting officer; but also as a character witness. In Louisiana, armed robbery is 5 to 99 years for each count. Paul was looking at a lifetime in prison for three armed robberies. Paul’s defense attorney is a personal friend. The judge on the case was also a personal friend of mine. Paul’s sentence was 5 years of supervised probation. He would be allowed to continue to work and provide for his family; but if there was another crime committed, he would serve 20 years.
This happened almost 40 years ago. Why did I remember this and want to write about it now? Hell, I don’t know. I was doing a Facebook search for him the other day -- why, I have no idea. I didn’t contact him, but today, Paul Bergeron (not his real name) owns his own business with his sons -- and one of those sons is probably the newborn that needed that baby formula.
We never know what role we play in simple daily activities and what a sleepless night can mean for someone else. Sometimes, Lady Justice has to peek and see everything for her sanctions and punishments to fit the intent.
Merry Christmas.
