Happy Holidays!

Happy Holidays

from the Shay Realtors Family

Our office will be closed from December 24th through January 2nd so that we may enjoy the holidays with our families.

We will see you in the New Year!

The Mole Report "The Holiday Man"Writted by Ray Shay

Pssst.... Where are you mole?   I jumped when I felt his clammy right claw grab me around my left arm as he pulled me into the bushes. "OK Mole, what's so urgent? Why are we hiding in the bushes near the corner of Dove Creek Rd. and Cross Stone Place? Is Chipotle's really opening a new restaurant a few doors down from our Community Hub?  Are they going to have outdoor dining? I can't wait.  Mole Is it true?

The mole looked at me directly in the eyes, but he wasn't smiling.  His crooked arms hung loosely by his sides.  "Yea boss, it's true.  Chipotle's is coming to 4S Ranch, but let's talk about something so much more important.  Like you always say boss, family is more important than business.  You knows I'm a single guy boss, but tonight is about family and our community."

Mole what are you talking about?  The mole turned and showed me a red, white and black holiday penguin he had hidden in the bushes.  One looking striking similar to the penguin from our Hub.  "Mole, you, me and our holiday penguin hiding in the bushes in the middle of the night is really going to spark some crazy rumors."   

The Mole pulled back the branches and pointed at a darkened home on the corner where Jeff and Cristina Seymour live with their two children.   I immediately recognized there was a problem.  For about six years, every Halloween and Christmas the Seymour's front yard was always decked out, (see below).  It was like our very own Annual Haunted Mansion and then Holiday Wonderland.   

     

Seymour's Home - Years Past

I noticed the Seymour's yard was now dark and abandoned looking with no holiday lights, and no Holiday Countdown Clock in their yard.  Their home was dark except for a single string of lights above the front porch.  What happened Mole?  Did they move?  "Worse then that boss, much worse.   My sources reveal some kids, possibly from Del Norte High School, stole the countdown clock. The Sheriff Department and school officials are trying to get the clock returned. 

Boss, intelligence reports from our high altitude Chinese drone confirm an uncaring group of youthful Grinches,  have been targeting the Seymour home by repeatedly egging their home, stealing holiday decorations and they even turned off their power.  How long can a family feel like they have a target on them before they stop?" 

Boss, I don't understand humans.  Why do they attack each other?  Why would people do these things that hurt the spirit of Christmas?  There is nothing funny about it.  Despite the darkness, I could see the Mole's big brown eyes started to water.  "I know Mole.  It's been a heartbreaking week." 

Ryan Shay rides his horse up to Jeff "Holiday Man" Seymour on Halloween Night 2012

I know you Mole.  When something bad happens you always look for a way to fix it.  What's your plan?  "Boss, you knows I'm a dreamer.  What if we took our penguin and ran across the street and plugged it into the Seymour's extension cord?  They will wake up in the morning and know that the spirit of Christmas cannot be stolen and their neighbors really do care.

Boss, what if other people from our community started bringing down lighted outdoor holiday stuff and just plugged them in as well?   It will show a few mean people cannot ruin our neighborhood spirit.  Their yard would become a community display we can all help to protect."   

"Grab his feet Mole, I means his flippers quick,"  We then sprinted across the street with the penguin between us until the electrical cord got tangled on all of our feet, I mean feet and claws and the three of us fell into a pile.  We both broke out in a type of laughter that had been so restrained this past week.   As a car approached, we quickly untangled ourselves and plugged the Penguin into the Seymour's significantly upgraded residential power grid, (see below) 

Mole and I stood and stared from the sidewalk.  I told Mole, "It's a start."  Mole then said, "I hope more people will bring stuff to the Seymour's yard.  If they don't, I hope they tell Jeff and Cristina or their kids, Adriana and Ethan, their holiday spirit really is appreciated."   

   

"Hey Mole I think you are on to something.  In fact, we will get Starbucks to pitch in and tonight from 6:00 to 7:30 PM were going to bring our kids and serve Hot Chocolate in the Seymour's Driveway around a fire pit and toast to our Holiday Spirit.  Well just tell anyone reading this to please bring your kids and something down to plug in or stop by to say "Hello."  It will show the Grinchs' we mean business!  On January 1st they can pick up the decoration and return next year.  Maybe it is the start of a new tradition."

Grinch, Please bring back our Holiday Countdown Clock !

The Mole then said, "Boss, you thinks there is any chance the Grinchs who took our Holiday Countdown Clock might see this on Instagram, Twitter, or on an email and realize what they did was wrong and bring the clock back? Hey Boss, What do you think?" 

"Mole, their is something even more powerful than social media. It is the spirit of people.  I think there is a chance, but even if their hearts do not swell like the Grinch's did in the amazing movie, "The Grinch Who Stole Christmas"

we can all still have an unbelievably fantastic holiday season without it.   Let's just get Whoville together tonight and celebrate what we we already have.  An amazing community and people that truly believe in the Holiday Spirit.  

  

Have a great holiday week.   

 

Ray & Theresa Shay  

Info@TrustShay.com
 

  

Copyright 2012 All Rights Reserved.  No duplication of this material without written consent of Shay Realtors.   

The Brokers Corner & Market Trend Updates

 

The latest news about local real estate by Ray Shay, Co-Owner of Shay Realtors and a licensed Broker Associate with RE/MAX Ranch and Beach.

 

4S Ranch HOA Lawsuit... 

   

  

If you own an attached condominium in 4S Ranch and you are thinking of selling it anytime in the next year or so, you may have a serious problem.  Two recent condo sales, one in Ravannah and the second in St. Moritz got the thumbs down from Federal Regulators who insure home loans because the 4S Ranch HOA has a lawsuit against the builder/developer of 4S Ranch.  Give us a call for more details.   

The biggest problem is no one seems to know how much the HOA or Newland are on the hook for to correct the problem.  With no amount known and so many lawyers in the hunt it is a recipe for a real problem....   

Local Market Update   

Values are increasing and market time is decreasing.  Warren Buffett again showed how smart he is when he recommended about a year ago to buy as many single family homes as you can.  Investors and first time home buyers are definitely buying up inventory.  If you want to know the value of your property give us a call.    

 

In the attached report, which is updated weekly, is prepared exclusively for Shay Realtors.  You will find easy-to-read graphs with statistics, and valuable information broken down into bite-size pieces about current market trends specifically for our zip code.   

    

 Condo Report and  Single Family Report 

The ScarecrowWritten by Ray Shay

Gold & Blue Is a series of police stories which may be inappropriate for younger readers.  Most people have no idea what it is like to be a law enforcement officer. This is a small peek behind the badge of America's Finest.

I always liked Jerry W.  He was a dark skinned African American, San Diego Police Officer and one of my FTO's, (Field Training Officers).  Jerry had a reputation of being tough. I like tough. His barrel chest, bright smile and engaging laugh made him memorable, but Jerry did not share many smiles or laughs with me.  I understand why he didn't, after all, he thought I was going to get him killed.

I still remember waiting in the coffee shop at Southeastern Division Police Sub-station on that hot summer night in the early eighties.  Jerry did not know I could hear his voice as he told a police supervisor, "Sarge, he is unsafe." I knew the, "he" Jerry was was referring to was me.

It was the first and only time in my field training experience to be a San Diego Police Officer,  I thought I may get fired.  In police work you can make mistakes, but errors that place your fellow officers in fear of being carried by six of their closest friends as taps are being played, and their loved ones weep, are not tolerated. And they shouldn't be. 

In my first short four months of field training as a rookie police officer in the streets of San Diego, I learned first hand what death really looked like.  Not the "TV" or "movie" deaths most of you are familiar with, but murders where the end was not necessarily quick or painless, and much messier then you can imagine.

Fortunately at the time, I had not yet witnessed the death of a fellow police officer.  A few months earlier, I attended SDPD Officer Kirk Johnson's funeral.  Kirk was a rookie Police Officer who had been on the department only two years when he drove his patrol car into a parking lot located in the University City area of San Diego and was ambushed.  Kirk was shot dead with his sidearm securely snapped in his holster.   

(More details on SDPD Officer Kirk Johnson).  

SDPD Officer  Kirk Johnson

It was always strange walking past Kirk's police car when it was locked up as evidence in a cage at Central Division, while homicide investigators looked for his killers.  I would sometimes stop to look at his white police car sitting alone behind the fence. The bullet holes in the driver's side door and frame were silent testimony to the tragic events of that evening.  We all knew it was just a matter of time before our garage people would patch the holes, repaint the car, and send it back out on patrol.  No one wanted to drive a car that seemed to be the only witness to Kirk's violent death.

Cops know it, but citizens have to stretch to comprehend that regardless of what casualties are taken on a shift, you always know the next shift of police officers will go right back out into the streets of San Diego or any other city in America.  It would be a dishonor to those who had died in the line of duty not to do so.  San Diego is and will always remain our city.

An important element of the process of developing peacemakers are Field Training Officers, or FTO's as they are called.  They don't train new officers for the money. I believe they do it because they want to help. They want to guide what was once a civilian through the turmoil or hurricane of emotion and events they must endure if they are ever going to walk alone and bear the responsibility of keeping the peace.  In essence, it is extending a hand to a brother or sister officer that needs help to stand on their own.

As part of your police training you learn quickly there are many "don't evers." Don't ever sit in your car to write a ticket, don't ever sit with your back to the entrance of a restaurant, don't ever park in front of a hot crime scene and don't ever relax too soon.  Any violation of these rules can and will get you killed. It's a very long list.

Another vital, "don't ever" is to never stop so close to the car in front of you in traffic that you don't have enough room to leave to cover other officers, citizens in need of help, or to escape in case you are suddenly, "taking rounds" i.e. being shot at.  As the saying goes, If you cannot move your car in an emergency situation it is no longer a car, it is just a metal coffin with an engine.

That was the "don't ever" I kept messing up. As a fresh rookie driving a police car, the swirling sound of emergency radio calls, people being shot, family fights, drug addicts, drunks, transients, writing reports and trying to show confidence in a hostile and dangerous environment makes one feel like Dorothy in the tornado. The house is spinning so fast you can't seem to get your footing.

As I recall, Jerry and I were on Imperial Ave near Euclid Ave. on a searing hot Saturday night in July. Windows were wide open and air conditioning on full blast. AC that cooled our faces and arms but had no impact on our thoroughly soaked t-shirts under 14 layers of Kevlar body armor and a ballistic metal trauma plate covering our hearts that provide our bodies with life giving blood. Your senses are on edge because it is early evening on a hot Saturday night and you are waiting for the drive-by shooting calls to start rolling in.

I was focusing on doing everything right as I looked for criminal activity among so many people drinking beers and carrying their "boom boxes" on their shoulders as they strolled on the sidewalks. The traffic light changed ahead of me so I brought our patrol car to a stop. The next few seconds happened very quickly. You are trained early on to always scan your mirrors in anticipation of a threat.

We both heard and saw the low-riding vehicle approaching on our right. All four hardened street gang members were wearing their bright colored matching bandanas pulled down low across their foreheads. Their muscular and heavily tattooed arms were resting on the window frames as their car eased up alongside the right rear quarter panel of our car.  Jerry and I both looked to the front of our car and saw I had, yet again, pulled up tight to the car in front of us.  

With a raised curb to my left and a car stopped behind us there would be no escaping this confrontation. I had prepared our casket perfectly. Jerry sent me a searing glare and said one four letter word.  The word fully expressed the gravity of the situation and I wondered for a moment if it was the last word either of us would ever hear.

We both looked to our right and knew immediately our adversaries were well aware of our precarious position.  We were boxed in with no tactical advantages. To be flying their colors so prominently and "rolling deep" as they say, you can bet they had at least one rifle, shotgun, or semi automatic pistol on their laps or within easy reach.

I knew if either Jerry or I raised our right shoulders to try and draw our sidearms and hold them pointed under the window from a seated position they could likely fire their weapons and reload before we even broke leather.  If we pressed the electrical release on our dash mounted shotgun and tried to cycle a double 00 buck round into the chamber, it would also be a "gong show" moment. Both attempted actions would likely be the spark to an explosion we all knew was so close to detonating.    

The driver would not look over. The front right passenger and the rear passengers began to whisper. The right rear passenger scanned quickly looking around for other witnesses or cars. The tension hung in the hot summer air and was accented by the deep booming sound of the rap music emitting from their open windows.

Jerry used a tool that only veteran cops have.  I could see the muscles under his dark black sweat covered skin and face become very tense and he turned and looked directly at all four of the street gang members.  Jerry stared directly at them and did not say a word.  He showed absolutely no fear, just resolve.  He had faced evil people his entire career and with that look, I believe he saved both of our lives. You could see them hesitate.  The gang members slowly turned away from his intense gaze and began moving their heads slightly with the music they were playing. It seemed like an eternity before the light finally changed.

As the car in front of me pulled forward allowing space for me to move I began to accelerate. As we crossed through the intersection Jerry used the four letter word one more time as he told me to pull over. As I pulled to the curb, I knew I would not be driving anymore that night.  

As Jerry drove me to the police station in silence I looked out the window of our marked patrol car at the passing small homes and graffiti covered commercial buildings. I felt like I was no longer in the hurricane, but I was now the scarecrow, since I obviously had no brain.  Beneath my treasured gold badge and tan uniform, I felt like I was made of straw as pieces of my confidence swirled out the window and into the hot summer air before scattering among the bus benches and the dark pitted roadways.  

The days and nights that followed I ultimately rallied until I learned to stand on my own. In years to follow, I sometimes shared this story with my trainees, most of whom made it while others did not. Despite the short time period someone may wear a law enforcement badge it changes them forever. Jerry changed me and provided me life lessons for which I will be forever grateful. Lessons, I passed on to other brothers and sisters for the next twenty three years.

Give your children an extra squeeze during this holiday season and reflect on how fortunate we are there are peacekeepers past and present like Officer Kirk Johnson, who are out there risking it all to protect us and our families.      

Have a safe and enjoyable week,

 

Ray & Theresa Shay  

Info@TrustShay.com
 

  

Copyright 2012 All Rights Reserved.  No duplication of this material without written consent of Shay Realtors.   

The Broker's Corner - Market Trend Updates

The latest news about local real estate by Ray Shay, Co-Owner of Shay Realtors and a licensed Broker Associate with REMAX Ranch and Beach.

 

4S Ranch HOA Lawsuit negatively impacts local sales!

   

If you own an attached condominium in 4S Ranch and you are thinking of selling it anytime in the next year or so, you may have a serious problem.  Two recent condo sales, one in Ravannah and the second in St. Moritz got the thumbs down from Federal Regulators who insure home loans because the 4S Ranch HOA has a lawsuit against the builder/developer of 4S Ranch.

The problem is not with any building or home in 4S Ranch.  Rather, it is some perimeter cement fences or block walls that are starting to lean like a bar drunk along Dove Canyon Rd and some trees that were never planted.  To try and resolve the issue we arranged a meeting last week with the HOA Board of Directors, two clients and three local lenders to discuss the matter.    Special thanks (Left to right) to Phil Joseph of Direct Lenders Mortgage, Sergio Haros of Gateway Funding, and Bobbi Askari of W.J. Bradley.  Chad Baker of Prime Lending (Not pictured) assisted as well.  We are all still hard at work trying to mitigate the black cloud over attached condos in 4S Ranch 

If you need any further information, do not hesitate to give me a call.  In the meantime, it is just another reason to use a professional local lender or a licensed Realtor that is well versed on the issues and will represent your best interests.     

Local Market Update   

Have you been to any new developments lately? Trust me the buyers are out as well as the builders.  This is especially true in Del Sur where buyers are rushing to purchase and the builders are back at it.  As long as we don't fall of the fiscal cliff in the new year, the forecast for the spring activity is strong.  

 

In the attached report, which is updated weekly, is prepared exclusively for Shay Realtors.  You will find easy-to-read graphs with statistics, and valuable information broken down into bite-size pieces about current market trends specifically for our zip code.   

    

Condo Report and  Single Family Report  

The Shark ToothWritten by Ray Shay

My mom and dad never met any of our three sons, Troy, Raymond, or Ryan.  I am really not complaining, it is just the cards we were dealt.  When your cup is overflowing in blessings, I don't think you should keep asking for more.  I do have a private wish that they could have met each other even if it was just for a moment.  I think my mom and dad would have been amazed at our sons, temperament, smiles, and how beautiful half Chinese and half Irish, "pound puppies" can really be.   

Grandpa "Dick" Shay 1932

I still remember about fifteen years ago a toast at our wedding rehearsal dinner in Denville, New Jersey.  My mom had passed a few months earlier, but my father and several of my six siblings were in attendance.   

I believe it was Theresa's oldest brother, Billy who stood up, raised his glass and lit up the room with a mischievous smile as he started a toast that went something like, "Here's to the Irish and Chinese!  We worked together so many years ago on the railroad, may our new union between the Shay and Mok families bring us all lifelong happiness."  We all burst out in laughter as we clanked our glasses and I sipped on another ice cold, Tsing Tao beer.  It was a great evening.

I think all of us on this small planet are interconnected in some way, regardless of our country, age, or ethnicity.  A shared human experience which brings me to the shark tooth.  Our middle son, Raymond has a left upper incisor which comes to a unique point.  He came up with his own description of the abnormality by saying it was his, "shark tooth".  We offered to have it cosmetically corrected several times, but he has always declined by saying, "I like my shark tooth."

Raymond Shay 2004

Raymond's attitude about life is so similar to my father it is freaky.  If you look at the their two  photographs, each of them as young children; you can see a striking resemblance despite them being two generations apart and significantly genetically different.  I thought the strange likeness would pass as Raymond got older.  I was yet again proven wrong.  I am glad I am better at real estate then I am at understanding or predicting upcoming curves in our lives. 

Recently, our family was at Sea World and I sent a photograph of Raymond via text to my brother, John.  The following day, John took the below picture of my dad and superimposed the flight goggles over Raymond's head.  When I received the pictures of Raymond and my dad side by side, I was stunned.  I found myself repeatedly looking at the picture, wondering if my dad had any Asian ancestors we did not know about.   

When I picked up Raymond from Oak Valley Middle School, I immediately passed him my I-Phone so he could look at the picture of him and his grandfather.  Raymond laughed briefly and said, "hey dad, your dad had a shark tooth too."   "Hey pass me that phone," I hollered to Raymond as I pulled to the curb.  I then saw it.  My dad's upper left incisor is slightly skinny and similar to his grandson. 

As I pulled back on the road, I glanced at Raymond as he sat next to me and I saw the tip of his shark tooth on the left side of his smiling face.  It was like looking at my dad.  Yeah, Raymond never got to meet my father, but he is still a big part of him.

I suspect one day, Raymond will ask for his shark tooth to be corrected.  When the dentist applies the fill and smooths out the pointed tooth it will no longer be visible but it will still remain underneath, like the DNA building blocks that are passed down from his ancestors.  The fabric of life that helps shape the way Raymond thinks and grows as he experiences the challenges of his own life.  

Though hidden, my dad and mom as well as Theresa's mother and father are all still alive deep within Raymond and all of our children and future grandchildren.  Someday in the future those children will be working together on their new collective railroad that makes the transcontinental railroad look like child's play.  

I suspect there will be a crystal clear and unfathomably cold night in deep outer space as our ancestors ride on an interstellar transport vehicle approaching a strange, dark planet.  The first mate will turn to the Captain of the ship and advise the ship and crew they will soon be exposed to the brilliance and significant harsh radiation of the sun breaking over the galactic horizon.  The space ships safety radiation glass will sense the increase in radiation and will automatically adjust its molecular structure within a few nano seconds. 

As the first mate stands to the left of the Commanding Officer looking out at the galaxy, he may ponder briefly that he cannot honestly identify if the Captain is of African, Indian, Asian, Arab, or even American descent.   The importance of someone's heritage had thankfully long since faded from our social consciousness as our human race advanced from generation to generation.  The first mate may, just may, notice that the Captain of the ship has a slightly narrow tooth on the upper left side of her smile as the sunlight bursts across the bow of the ship and illuminates the bridge and the beautiful planet below.   Now that would be an amazing sunrise.   

   

Have a great week,

 

Ray & Theresa Shay  

Info@TrustShay.com
 

  

Copyright 2012 All Rights Reserved.  No duplication of this material without written consent of Shay Realtors.   

*OPEN HOUSE TODAY*

Saturday, December 1st
from 12pm to 2pm

Immaculate Home in Desirable Del Sur

15816 Paseo Del Sur

San Diego, CA 92127

www.ShayRealtors.com

Your Local Real Estate Trend Reports

Your Local Real Estate Trend Reports

Activity was light this past week with the Thanksgiving Holiday.  Home prices continue to increase.  Some of the best deals are had in December, before the January or New Year rush.  

In the attached report, which is updated weekly, is prepared exclusively for Shay Realtors.  You will find easy-to-read graphs with statistics, and valuable information broken down into bite-size pieces about current market trends specifically for our zip code.   

   Condo Report and  Single Family Report 

Your Local Real Estate Trend Report

Activity was light this past week with the Thanksgiving Holiday.  Home prices continue to increase.  Some of the best deals are had in December, before the January or New Year rush.  

 In the attached report, which is updated weekly, is prepared exclusively for Shay Realtors.  You will find easy-to-read graphs with statistics, and valuable information broken down into bite-size pieces about current market trends specifically for our zip code.  Condo Report and  Single Family Report 

Thank You Run TOMORROW!!!!

 We are approaching a thousand runners!
Race day pick up still available. 

I am working on having one of the best cops and man I have ever known to sound the starting horn of this years race/walk.  I hope he shows up.  He is in a huge fight against ALS and his voice is trialing off, but his spirit is alive and well.  JJ, I hope you can make it!

To HBO Sports and Karl Strauss, you are the best.  HBO has been a multi-year supporter of this Thanksgiving tradition in 4S Ranch and Karl this is your first year.  Karl you are a rookie but thanks to Stephen Zeeb and all the people of Karl Strauss, you really stepped up and are a vital part of this vibrant community. 

 

Also a shout out to Chip and all the RALPH employees.  In the below photograph are 17 Turkeys that are being delivered today to ALS Patients and their families.  It will give them and all of us a reason to smile.

  

 

The Thank You Run is a non-profit run with all proceeds benefiting two local charities, the 4S Ranch Del Sur Foundation and Helen's Closet which provides wheelchairs and other comfort equipment to ALS patients. 

The Three MonkeysWritten by Ray Say

I was in good spirits when I walked out of the San Diego Police Department headquarters building on that chilly November evening a couple of years ago.  That was despite wearing my "Realtor" clothes which consisted of a long sleeve shirt, tie and slacks. I was always more comfortable in my dark blue, wool, San Diego Police Department uniform. Every time I put that uniform on, I had a sense of reverence for what the uniform and badge represented.  It also reminded me that I had fulfilled my life long dream of being a cop.  

I have always been attracted to police work and especially the crisp, blue uniforms worn by SDPD and LAPD Officers.  I recall even as a child growing up in Albuquerque, New Mexico that when I saw a blue police uniform moving on the rotating rack at the dry cleaners, I seemed to fall into a trance.  I would tug on my mom's shirt and point.  She was patient about my infatuation with everything police, from my insistence on watching One Adam 12, the Rookies or my frequent admiration or occasional trance, anytime I saw a police officer or a police car.

I sometimes joked if I had not been a cop in real life, I may have turned to the dark side, just so I could hang around cops.   Behind the blue or tan uniforms, gold badges, or silver stars,  cops are like many of you.   Most cops have a great sense of humor because they are faced with so many situations which are either so bizarre or heartbreaking that you are always looking for a reason to smile.  Cops who internalize the unfairness and negatives from the underbelly of our society, usually don't last.  They quit, resort to a chemical dependency of some sort, become ill, injured, get fired, or just simply fade away. 

 

As I walked through the police headquarters parking lot and approached our Honda Element with the pictures of Theresa and I on the sides, a young Sergeant I had trained many years earlier, drove up in his UC, (undercover) vehicle.  He joked, "Hey Lt. nice pictures".  We both broke into a hearty laugh as he ribbed me about my change of careers as well as the pictures on the side of our Shay Realtors' company vehicle.  The pictures which have been good for business, but also a frequent source of laughter.

The Sergeant then said, "Lt. you must really miss it!  SWAT and Robbery Detectives are responding right now to a 211 silent at a jewelry store in Mission Valley.  Sounds like a couple armed gang members are smashing display cases.  How do you not want to go?"  I told him I would like to, but I was very happy raising our boys who we often call, "our three monkeys."

 

I told him they make us laugh all the time.  We wrapped up our conversation quickly and I told the Sergeant to, "be safe" a common salutation between law enforcement personnel.  It was interesting, he did not tell me to, "be safe" but instead said, "enjoy being at home on a night like this".
 

As the rain continued to fall, I paused briefly to look at Theresa and our pictures on the side of our car before sitting down behind the wheel and closing the door.  I sat there in the PD parking lot for a few minutes and watched police cars pull in and out of HQ.  There is something very special about being a cop, something you cannot get anywhere else.  You feel a sense of job importance and job satisfaction, especially when you are pursuing and arresting armed felons or street gang members.

When a crime series starts it is like having an angry pit bull with blood in it's gums attacking people in your community.  You may only have a general idea of what he or they look like, or a nickname as you start your search.  It can become all consuming even when you are off the police beat.  Though you may be eating dinner with your family or friends, your mind flips back to the victims and how you need to stop the criminals before they hit again. You cannot share those thoughts with anyone, but you know the predators are out there hiding and moving among so many good, law abiding citizens and any one of them could be their next victim.   

As I began driving home alone, the rain started to increase as I turned N/B on the I-163.  I thought about my conversation with the sergeant and my new profession.  In the private darkness, I wanted to yell out, "Yeah I miss it".  But not why most people would think. I really miss the teamwork and the creek of my leather gear as I would get in or out of a police car.  The frequent laughter as well as the feeling of putting my hand on the leather jacket covered shoulder of another police officer who just did everything they could have possibly done, and still they lost.

The looks we would receive from children, parents and criminals. Confronting the  

challenge of a stern look of a child that is mimicked perfectly by their parents who are holding them.  Parents who for whatever reason had taught their children police are evil and cannot be trusted. I loved on the rare occasion when I could get a smile or laugh  from one of those kids. I was just never able to get one from their parents. 

Each moment of being in the streets was a challenge and a ten or twelve hour shift full of uncertainty, challenges and danger.  Yeah, I really do miss it.  

To distract myself, I turned on KGB or another rock radio station very loud.  I am sure our faces were probably shaking from the vibrations on the cheap, wet door panels on our Honda.  I thought to myself, I should be driving fast to the armed robbery scene.  I should be calling in one of our SDPD helicopters with a FLIR, (forward looking infrared) scanner to look for the hot engine of the getaway car which is likely parked only a few blocks from the shopping center.  

Most smash and grab and armed robbery suspects dump their stolen getaway cars in close proximity of their target.  They frequently pull off their outer shirt, dump the cash into a water bucket to disable any tracking sensors and quickly transfer to another vehicle with their shotgun or rifle hastily wrapped in a jacket or blanket.  If a handgun is their weapon of choice it is likely comfortably tucked in the front or back of their waistband.  

  

As I drove through the pounding rain, I was listening to the band Boston.  I told myself I should be feeling my back-up firearm on my left ankle holster as I drive a specially designed, high powered, Ford Police Interceptor Crown Victoria with extra heavy duty suspension and the unique police performance package which would allow me to drive over 90 MPH or faster, while steering with my left knee and talking on my cell phone to responding elements or other agencies.  At that speed, I could still bring up the latest emergency updates from police communications on my vehicle's Mobile Data Terminal.  When my dad would accompany me on ride-a-longs, he always thought it was one of my better technical skills.
 

Instead, I am driving a tin can Honda Element that could be pulled into a big tent and about a dozen lanky guys with big red noses, multi-colored wigs and matching large feet could tumble out while the crowd laughed hysterically.  I should really be focusing on arresting armed predators before some young jeweler employee or a seventeen year old convenience clerk was murdered.

The rain let up but the coldness remained in the air as I made the final few turns before reaching our home in 4S Ranch.  I was now in an extremely rare, sour mood.  I was simply feeling selfish and sorry for myself as I closed the skinny driver's side door of the Honda.  I then began slowly walking towards the front door of our home.  Wearing a badge and walking up to darkened strangers doors for over twenty-four years you cannot help but learn to pay attention to any changes in the environment as you approach.

I saw the curtain to the right side of our front door ruffle slightly.  I then saw a little hand and skinny little arm pull it back as the warm light from inside of our home poured on to the porch.  I could see one of our son's hand holding the curtain back while he and his brother pushed their faces against the cold glass.  Their little brother, our youngest son, was trying to peek through the window as well, but his older brothers had the front seats and they were not about to give them up.  All their eyes were filled with excitement and wanderlust.  

I immediately burst out in laughter as the damp trench coat of regret and disappointment I was wearing, immediately disappeared.  I realized once again I was an idiot.  As I opened the door and felt the warmth and smell of dinner, I was back in a very special place.  A place I actually love more than police work.  I just said, "come here you monkeys".

Since that chilly night in November, that sense of regret has never returned.  I just have to recall our children's faces.  It has also made me more 

thankful.  Thankful for all the firefighters, nurses, and doctors who are frequently separated from their families on holidays.  Our brave military, past and present who are chasing their own pit bulls, even in foreign countries.  And of course cops and deputies who are not home with their wives, husbands, or partners this Thanksgiving.  They are out there in the dark and cold instead of being at home with their loved ones or wrestling with their own monkeys.

    

 

Theresa and our boys, Troy, Raymond and Ryan want to thank each of you and wish you a very happy Thanksgiving Holiday.  

Most people have no idea the challenges you face ...

 

Sincerely,  

 

Ray & Theresa Shay  

Info@TrustShay.com
 

  

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