From Save It for Halloween
As fantasies go, Jose Santiago, Jr., had a rather strange one. Too bad he decided to act it out. One Sunday evening in April 2006, the 33-year-old decided his hometown of Gurnee, Illinois, could use one more cop. Guess who? It would help his charade that he had bought an old police car -- a 1999 Ford Crown Victoria Police Interceptor -- and mounted red and blue lights on its dashboard.When a driver pulled into Santiago's apartment complex, the rookie was ready for his baptism. He blocked the guy's car with his own, then motioned him over. A slender man with short, dark hair walked up to him, puzzled.
Santiago, who wasn't wearing a cop's uniform, barked, "Do you have a problem?" and then started laying into the man about his driving, claiming he'd been doing 65 mph.
Are you a police officer?" the man asked. When Santiago said yes, the guy asked to see his ID. Santiago refused and continued with his tough-cop routine. Growing suspicious, the man asked again if he was a policeman. This time, Santiago said he was a deputy, but claimed he didn't have any identification on him.
That's when it turned into a fake cop's worst nightmare. The driver had no problem pulling out his own wallet and showing his identification. His name was Jeremy Gaughan, and he happened to be an off-duty Gurnee police officer.
Whoa. It probably seemed a bit late to let him off with a warning. Instead, Santiago went to plan B. He really was a cop, he said, but he wasn't on the Gurnee police roster because he actually worked for the county as a reserve deputy. Gaughan said he'd check with the Lake County Sheriff's Department. Santiago said okay and drove off rather eagerly.
Three days later, Santiago pulled up to his residence to find Gurnee police officers waiting for him. Charged with false impersonation of police and using unauthorized flashing lights, Santiago pleaded guilty to both and was sentenced to 50 hours of public service and 24 months' conditional discharge.
Officer Gaughan's colleagues still get a laugh when they think about their buddy's encounter. "It's dangerous enough for real cops to stop drivers on the road," says Commander Jay Patrick. "For this guy to want to make it his hobby is really bizarre."
Our suggestion: Try golf, Jose.
He Needs a Monitor
What's the most jaw-droppingly stupid thing you could do if you're on trial for attempting to steal computer equipment? Ask Jon Eipp.His strange story began with burglar alarms at Portal Publications in Novato, California, just north of San Francisco. Police rushed to the scene and caught Eipp, 39, and an accomplice running away, leaving an array of stolen computer equipment outside the office building.
Both men were arrested, and Eipp's trial began last fall in the Civic Center courthouse in neighboring San Rafael. Two days into the proceedings, some Civic Center employees showed up for work, went to their cubicles and got quite a surprise. Their computers and monitors had been swiped. Yep, Jon just couldn't help himself.
The previous evening, after his hearing, Eipp had hidden on a balcony until the Civic Center pretty much cleared out. Then he ducked into room C-10, loaded computer equipment into a recycling bin and wheeled his cargo outside. There, he stuffed it all into a large box that he tucked out of sight. Eipp was lucky enough to get his high-tech haul out of the building, but his stupidity caught up with him.
By the time Civic Center workers discovered their equipment had vanished, Eipp was already in police custody. It seems one heist just wasn't enough: Shortly after leaving the Civic Center, he'd been caught right down the street trying to steal a Volkswagen. Not that he wouldn't have been nabbed soon enough for the computer job, since fingerprints and a shoe print, along with video surveillance, made it clear Eipp was the culprit.
Now he faced charges that included attempted auto theft, burglary and grand theft. Last September, he pleaded guilty to them all. Speaking to a reporter, Eipp blamed his thievery in the courthouse on a drug problem, saying he'd stolen the computers because "I needed help and didn't know how to ask for it."
In the end, Eipp chose to help himself -- to about four years in prison.