The Po Po

There was a police helicopter over Regis last night.... again.

It was the loud hum that woke me up. It’s a different sound than the airplanes from LAX… much louder.

The first time I heard it, I called LAPD, but that was only after my roomie and I saw a man frantically running down our street, eyes darting back and forth, neck cranked over his shoulder, as the helicopter lights swooped overhead illuminating the dark road.

We were terrified. Screaming, we locked our front door, ran up to my room on the top floor and hid under the covers just like I used to do when I was a little girl. Then, we called 911.

“You are safe,” the operator said matter-of-factly. “But do not exit your house,” he warned.

Not exactly my idea of comfort.