It was a quarter to midnite: It is never good to wake up to the sound of someone screaming for help. I threw open the front door, cell phone in hand, looking around and listening for any more shouts.
Someone was screaming: “Help me! Please call the Bradley Beach police!”
It was a moon-less night and the fog had rolled in. It was hard to see even three doors down, but I did see two men on the lawn and one on a porch. I heard multiple footsteps pounding the decks overhead, other neighbors were woken by the drama unfolding down the block.
When I called the police, none of us were sure just WHERE the cries were coming from, but those guys were a good guess.
TWO unmarked cars flew down the block.
Now there was another man in the mix, fighting with another one on the lawn.
The cops were hollering: “Stand down. Stand down NOW!”
Whoa, they jammed brakes, threw the cars in park and while the cars were still rocking, both cops bolted out running.
It was like watching Michael Strahan sack the Quarterback: The guys never saw it coming!
One cop tackled both men around their waists, spun them around, bounced onto the back end of a car and down to the gutter.
‘Twas good to know, if needed, our cops got some serious skills.
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