The Port Arms Caper...

    

       When I was 15 or 16 and looking for trouble on the mean streets of 1970's Port Moody, one Sat. afternoon it found us (we may have already smoked a "marijuana cigarette"). The three of us were just sort of hanging out when these dudes (I don't think we used "dude" then) from a rougher crowd than ours, which wasn't very hard to do, asked us if we wanted to come and see 25 cases of beer that they had stolen from the Port Arms Hotel. Are you kidding me?! You bet we do!

        The two or three of them and three of us proceeded down across the tracks (what are the odds?) to where the contraband supposed to have been hidden in the bush. When we arrived at "the spot" there was nothing there... all the beer was gone and I was afraid these guys would think that we took it. They were pissed but the gang of us just ended up leaving, heading our separate ways home.  

  The usual suspects...
    

       A little while later there was a knock at the door and it was two of Port Moody's finest. (The only trouble I had with the law up until then was the time the police caught us streaking down main street. Naked except for ball caps and running shoes, the guy at the lead of our procession looked back over his shoulder and yelled, "COPS!"  I thought he was only kidding until I looked for myself... talk about haul ass. They never caught us that night, it's surprising how fast you can run naked. We ended up having to hide in a prickle bush...ouch. I received a call a couple of days later from the police saying they had found my wallet... they had taken it out of the pup tents we were staying in in this vacant lot. When I went to pick it up at the desk the cop sad,"Here's one of our streakers." That wasn't embarrassing at all. Of course I denied it but they knew) but I digress.... My Mom had answered the door and I could tell by her tone when she called me that I was in trouble. The police had received a tip about the stolen beer, had the place staked out and followed us home. They started to ask me some questions about said beer when my Mom chimed in saying, "Take him away!" It was almost like she was waiting for this day to happen.

       They already had one of my other buddies in custody when they loaded me in the police car. I thought I was a goner, I'm gonna be doin' hard time man. When we got to the police station they put us in separate rooms for interrogation, it had all happened so fast we didn't have time to get our "stories straight" or even come up with a decent lie. Port Moody has it's own private police force and we knew most of them by name, my interrogator turned out to be one of the worst at the time, Officer Connell, I was freakin'. He was a mean Scotsman with a strong brogue and that fringe around his bald head. I don't recall much of the questioning other than,"What were you doing going down into the bush with those guys?" What do you want me to say? "Smoke a joint?". I didn't want to rat anybody out and I had absolutely no idea what my partner in crime was saying so I just used the same technique I'd been using with my folks for years, mumble, stammer and say, "I dunno..."

        They eventually let us go and nothing else ever came of  it. There was a sense of relief when they released us for two reasons. One for just getting out and two for not being known as a fink, but in looking back now the best thing about that day was my Mom and her, "Take him away..." Thanks, Mom...