Sometimes we don’t realize when we are in danger and when unseen angels protect us without us even knowing it. The following is a story that happened to me back in February of 1968 when I was a rookie deputy sheriff beginning my career in a patrol car:
I had joined the Los Angeles County Sheriff’s Department in April of 1967. I finished the grueling Academy in August and was assigned to the old Hall of Justice Jail. The jail was built in 1929 and occupied the top five floors of a fourteen story building. Here’s an interesting tidbit: The top five floors were jails and the bottom 9 floors were courtrooms and criminal justice offices.
The building sat on two separate foundations. The bottom nine floors sat on a foundation typically designed to hold up a building of nine stories. The top five floors sat on a foundation that included several large balls. Each was 24 feet in diameter and constructed of concrete. The theory was this: Since Los Angeles was plagued with earthquakes, the idea was that if the bottom nine floors were to fall away, the top five floors would allow the prisoners to survive by holding top of the building in place and allowing it to move on the foundational balls that supported it. To this day there have been many earthquakes but the theory has never been put to the test.
Back to my story: Following graduation from the Sheriff’s Academy deputies are assigned to the jails before being allowed into patrol. I was 21-years-old when I joined the department and spent 16 months working the jails before being transferred to Temple Station in Temple City, California, located in the beautiful San Gabriel Valley.
I arrived at the Sheriff’s Station in December of 1968 and was assigned to Gene, my training officer. I was spit and polish, had all new equipment and was ready to make my mark on the world.
That February of 1968 it rained almost every day. Everything and everyone was inundated with these heavy rains that had brought mudslides and flooding.
Gene and I were working the graveyard shift in the city of Duarte. This is a foothill community located at the base of the San Gabriel mountains. Around two o’clock in the morning, Gene and I were dispatched to the San Gabriel Gun Club to rescue the caretaker who had called the station asking to be evacuated due to flooding.
The gun club is located in Fish Canyon about 3 miles north of the city of Duarte. Gene drove our patrol car up the paved road as far as we could before reaching the unpaved section that was impassable due to mud. We got out of our patrol car and began the trek on foot to the gun club located about a quarter of a mile away. The going wasn’t too bad. We were protected by our police issued yellow slickers and our boots. It was muddy but not too difficult to navigate.
We were thankful when we reached the cement driveway leading up to the gun club. We approached the living quarters of the maintenance man who kept an eye on things and knocked on the door. The door was opened by a middle aged man who was obviously intoxicated. He looked at us with bleary eyes while being unsteady on his feet. Gene asked him if he was ready to go. He was belligerent and demanded to know where the whiskey was he had ordered. We had no desire to deal with this individual, determined he was in no immediate danger as there was no evidence of flooding in his area. We left him in his intoxicated state and began the trek back to our patrol car.
As we began our trek back to our car, we were unable to find the road again. It was entirely gone. Off in the distance, we could see two patrol cars with their red lights and spotlights on. They were using their speakers to tell us to stay where we were that rescuers were on the way. What? We didn’t need rescuing, we were fine…we thought.
Eventually the fire department arrived and we were led out of the area on a life line through swirling muddy water that was up to our chests. Our patrol car was nowhere to be seen and Gene and I were still a bit disoriented as to what was going on. Once we reached safety, the deputies who had arrived to check on us told the story.
When they arrived they could not reach our patrol car as there was a torrent of water keeping them from moving up the road. They couldn’t see our patrol car, as a flash flood had come through taking everything in its path. The mud was up to the top of the telephone poles, the road impassable and they were believing the worst, that we had been swept away in the flood. It was only when they saw the light from our flashlights that they realized we were okay and began rescue efforts.
Gene and I were soaked, our uniforms and equipment ruined. We were covered in mud from head to toe. The next morning our patrol car was found nearly a quarter of a mile downstream where the flash flood had taken it. It was completely filled with mud inside and only the emergency lights were seen above the mud.
Now, you might be asking yourself, “How did we get back to safety and whatever happened to the guy who caused all of this in the first place.
We were separated from safety by a raging river of water a few hundred yards wide. Thanks to the Fire Department we were guided to safety. These brave men were able to somehow get a rope tethered to each side of this raging river. To this day, I have no idea how they accomplished this feat, but they did. We entered the water and held on to the rope. Every few yards was a fire fighter who made sure we did not let go of the rope and we eventually reached the safety of the other side. To add just a wee bit of additional drama to this rescue, as we were being guided through this river, one of the fire fighters told us to be cautious of rattlesnakes in the water. Like we needed one thing more on our minds.
That same afternoon, the rain stopped and the maintenance man called again asking to be rescued. This time a helicopter was dispatched, the man was rescued and arrested and booked for reporting a false emergency.
It wasn’t until much later that the severity of the situation really sank in. This time my life flashed before my eyes following the event. I thought of the effect of leaving my wife and daughter, parents and friends. A matter of a few minutes or a few seconds were the difference between life and death. There is no way we could have survived if we had been caught in the flood. It seemed surreal as I reflected on the life-threatening experience I had survived.
I’ve always been close to my Grandma Haag. She passed away when I was fifteen but I have always felt her presence close to me. I’d like to believe she had something to do with saving me that night. I’ve always felt she is my guardian angel as I have survived several near death experiences throughout my lifetime and I have attributed them to God’s grace as he provided His angels to look over me. I think my Grandma Haag is my guardian angel.
One thing I know for sure. There are guardian angels. I am living proof of that.
Thank you God for your protection!!!
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