The story behind the story at Northgate

 It’s one thing to report on the news. It’s quite another to become a part of it.

Last Saturday, photographer Meredith Seaver and I did a ride along with the College Station Police Department in the Northgate Entertainment District. We’ve been trying for more than a year to get a ride along set up, and the Texas A&M football game against Samford provided a good opportunity for us to see what the local cops go through on game days.

When I first pitched the idea, I imagined hanging out in a patrol car on a Friday night from about 8 p.m. to 10 p.m. or as late as midnight. I’m no spring chicken anymore, and it’s tough staying up much later than that. What we ended up arranging was a Saturday night, beginning at midnight. At first, I balked but then went along with it.

Rather than riding in a car, officer David Simmons, the department’s public information officer, arranged for us to do a walk along in the city’s bar district. We met him at 11:30 p.m. at the police station and filled out all of our paperwork and received our instructions. Simmons then drove us to Northgate. We parked on a block cordoned off with yellow police tape. The officers call it 100 Block and it serves as a base of operations. From there officers conduct foot patrols and also have a place to bring detainees for transport to jail.

I spent much of my time following Lt. Travis Pritchett. He commands the College Station Tourism and Entertainment Police (CSTEP) unit.

Around 1:30 a.m. a call came in about a theft in progress. Several of us took of running from 100 Block toward the Prominade. OK, most of the others took off running. My pace was more of a jog and Simmons stayed back and jogged beside me. As we reached the covered shelter of the Prominade, Simmons ran ahead of me. I was struggling to see what was happening and didn’t watch where I was going. I tripped on the curb and went down hard just as a couple of people ran past me going the other way.

I got up just in time to see Simmons take someone to the ground and get on top of him. Soon there was a dogpile of police officers on and around the guy. I pulled out my phone and snapped a few pictures. Apparently, the guy, later identified as Apolo Flores, made a football-style stance and knocked over one of the officers responding to the call. The officer hurt his wrist and suffered some abrasions.

As we headed back to 100 Block, I noticed the right knee in my jeans was torn and I had a bleeding scrape on my knee. A paramedic from the fire department helped clean and bandage my knee. The worst of it for me, aside from the torn jeans, was my bruised ego. Like I said earlier, I’m no spring chicken.

That was probably the most exciting thing that happened that night. We continued to observe as the officers worked the crowds and made a few arrests. There was a noticeable shift at 2 a.m. when the bars closed and hundreds of patrons poured out into the already crowded streets. The tension level of the officers ratcheted up a few notches and their heads were on swivels.

After about 20 minutes, several officers formed a line at the end of College Main and took out flashlights with a strobe effect. They marched down the street, clearing out the crowd.

We concluded our time at Northgate around 2:40 a.m. and were back at the police station by 3 a.m. Not only did I manage to stay awake, but I was still pretty wired when I got home and went to bed.

The next morning, I told Sandy about my experiences and explained the rip in my jeans to her. That afternoon I was out doing chores when Sandy called me over. She was reading a post on Facebook about the incident with Flores tackling the officer.

“According to CSPD, the man laughed and walked away — then did the exact same thing to an elderly bystander, knocking him down too. That gentleman was treated on scene for knee abrasions,” the post said.

What?! Elderly bystander?! I wasn’t knocked down; I tripped. I guess from the reporting officer’s perspective it looked like Flores hit me when he ran past, but he never made contact. Still, we got a chuckle out of it and I’ve taken some good-natured ribbing as being the “elderly bystander.”

Like I said, I’m no spring chicken, but at 60 years of age I don’t quite feel elderly. I don’t know, maybe it’s time to own it and embrace my newfound elderliness. You can read all about the experience in my story in Sunday’s paper. And for those of you old enough to remember radio commentator Paul Harvey, now you know the rest of the story.