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"The problem with quotes on the internet today is you can never be certain they're authentic." - Abraham Lincoln

SOMETIMES IT’S A LONG WINDING ROAD

This service was supposed to be a routine delivery, but I was apprehensive . I checked for a phone at the service address. The phone company indicates that this is a Baptist Church. After a couple of phone calls with no answer, I decide to make the long pilgrimage to the church in the woods in hopes of finding someone there.. I drive along the interstate for 45 minutes, then I turn onto a state highway. After several miles my GPS, affectionately know as Bossy Bitch, harps repeatedly that I should turn left on a Farm Road, - not bad, two lanes, clearly marked, and safely shouldered. Then she demands a turn on to a County Road, clearly a secondary road, but it does have asphalt shoulders… at least for the first few miles. Bossy Bitch is exasperated with the recalculating. I can hear it in her voice. Then came the gravel shoulders then no shoulders. But the road does have a center stripe, for one more mile. What… now the asphalt is gone and the gravel is pretty rough. Oh, hell, now the gravel is gone!
My bossy bitch announces that she has lost satellite reception. I pull out my cell phone, where I would normally see bars indicating the signal strength, I see an "X". This is not good.
At the very end of the dirt road I find five mobile homes; some would call them trailers, and none were double-wide. The five trailers are arranged in a crescent with a flag pole in the center of the crescent. At the peak of the flagstaff a Confederate Flag waives. Never in my life have I been happier that I am a large white man. The first living thing I see is a Rottweiler larger than most Shetland ponies. I stated in an earlier post that I have great "respect" for large dogs and remain in my car to demonstrate that respect. As I am sitting there contemplating my next move, a young couple appear from behind a big red, Ford Dually with crossed weaponry appliqué adorning the rear window. Through my car window I ask the whereabouts of Mr. Killabrew. They point toward a barn behind one of the trailers. Neither of them ever spoke a word. At about that time, out of the barn strolls a short man with a full beard attired in jeans and a blue plaid flannel shirt and atop his head is a Johnny Reb hat. No embellishment here; it really was a rebel hat. I ask if he is Mr. Killabrew, and he responds, "It depends on who’s askin’." I then inquire, "Is the dog friendly?" Mr. Killabrew responds, "He is until it gets dark." Well, it is getting dark so I figure that I need to get this done quickly. I get out of the car and not only does the pony not attack, but Mr. Killabrew is courteous enough for a flag-flying rebel being served with a law suit.
But I do not linger as I need to get away from the large pony before dark and I am not sure that I can find the gravel road in the dark. I never did see the Church.

BIG DOGS, REALLY BIG DOGS

While I am rarely frightened by people, except those with guns drawn, I have a great deal of respect for large dogs.  On most occasions no matter what size the dog I will stay in my car to see if the dog is wagging its tail before I exit the vehicle.  I have been known to stay in my car and phone the defendant to ask if the dog is safe.  And then of course hope that the defendant is not sitting in the house laughing uproariously at my demise.  On some few occasions I have honked the horn of my car until someone comes outside to either hold the dog or take the papers if I am lucky.  The dark of night adds an entire new dimension to the large dog dilemma.

I was out in one of the rural counties and it was a particularly dark night, one without a moon.  The residence of the man I needed to serve was poised on a few fenced acres.  It was fortuitous that my defendant’s abode, while fenced, had the gate to the double wide driveway standing open. I drove down the driveway to the open detached garage.  A light was on in the back of the house, but the front, including the garage area, was very dark.  Several dogs were in the yards and a couple of the dogs were quite large.  I sat in my car contemplating my next actions when I noticed that the largest of the dogs had come to my car door not only wagging his tail but jumping up on the door as it he wanted me to come out and play.  I decided that it was going to be OK for me to get out, after all he was the largest dog in the yard and surely he would defend me.  I was about half way to the front door with my flashlight in hand when out of the corner of my vision, I saw The Biggest Dog I have ever seen in my life.  I quickly turned to assess the situation and perhaps make a run for my car….as the beam of the flashlight illuminated the approaching Biggest Dog, I focused on the shaggiest Shetland Pony in the entire world.  Now who would have ponies in their yard and not have the gates closed?  But I still do not like big dogs.

FAMILY LAW CAN BE TRAUMATIC

I understand that on occasions a divorce can be a shock, but in most cases it is not surprising event.

I had a Citation with the accompanying Original Petition For Divorce to be delivered to Mr. Killabrew who had not told the wife he had left where he had taken up residence.  Mrs. Killabrew was to deliver their 14 year old son to the father for visitation, in a grocery store parking lot.  I thought my appearing at the exchange location to be the perfect way to serve the papers.  Not so fast process server, the mister does not want the papers!  I parked at a distance and observed Mrs. Killabrew arrive with Junior Killabrew.  When Mr. Killabrew drove up to Mrs. Killabrew’s car, I approached their vehicles in mine.  Mr. Killabrew saw me drive up next to his wife’s car.  Panicked, he drove off without his son.  Seconds later, he abruptly stopped as his son ran across the parking lot to him, and they drove away.

While I am not trained in vehicular pursuit, it was not difficult for me to follow the respondent as he unwittingly led me to his destination.  While I parked, my eyes followed Mr. Killabrew as he entered his apartment at the top of the stairs.  I hauled my six foot three, three hundred pounds up those stairs and knocked on his door. He shouted at me through the door that he had a gun and that I should leave.  I quickly assessed any available place of refuge.  The only apartment at the top of the stairs was the one which contained the shouting angry armed respondent.  There was no place to stand except directly in front of the door.  It was time for me to leave...I spoke in a very strong voice that I was leaving and I did leave.  However, once I got back to my car I called Mr. Killabrew on his cell phone and explained to him that these documents were only divorce papers.  He responded, “I don’t want those things.”  I said “Why not guy?  You are already living with your girlfriend.  Even if you wanted to go back to your wife, I don’t think that is going to happen.”

I additionally explained that he could no longer avoid being served with the Citation.  If I had to write an affidavit to the court explaining that he was avoiding process of service the court could then have me serve him at work or post them on the front door of his apartment.  In any event he would be served and it would a lot easier to just take the papers now.  So Mr. Killabrew said “Ok just come back up to my door” at which time I said “Hell no, you have already threaten to shot me.  I am not coming back up those stairs.”  “You come down to the parking lot.  And if you have anything in your hands or anything bulging in your pockets or any thing stuck in your belt, you will need to watch me very closely as I might accidently run over you with this big ass Cadillac as I am trying to escape.”  He did come down the stairs…. wearing no shirt and his hands held out to his sides.  I hand him the papers through the window, wished him good luck and drove away.  Now why should divorce papers be that traumatic to serve?

THINK BEFORE YOU CALL THE POLICE

I was delivering a “bad debt” paper to a lady in one of the southern counties. It was just before dusk when I arrived at the house, and the difficult lighting made it nearly imposible to see if the lights were on inside.  However, before pressing the doorbell, I listened at the door for sounds in the house. At least two children were playing inside, and the TV was playing as well.  When I rang the door bell, all voices went silent, and the TV was turned off.  I could also tell that a light, which I hadn’t been able to see between the mini-blinds in the window, also went dark. No one came to the door. I rang the doorbell again. When the doorbell was again ignored, I rang for a third time.  And again, no one came to the door.

With no response and knowledge that people were at home, I looked for a phone number for this address and found one.  Much to my surprise the defendant answered the phone.  I told the lady that I was a Texas Civil Process Server and she immediately asked if I was the SOB ringing her doorbell.  I explained that I was and that if she would open the door, I would give her the court documents that were addressed to her.  The lady then stated that she had already called the police. I explained that I would be very happy to wait for the police and that I would be setting in my car in her driveway until they arrived.  After 10 minutes, the police had not arrived so I called her back, asking if she would call the police again as I had other papers to deliver and I needed them to come soon. 

After a few minutes a police car did arrive, and I explained to the officer who I was and what I was doing.  He asked to see the court documents.  After reviewing the Citation he laughed and said, “This is going to be fun”.  I looked at him with a puzzled expression, and he stated that he had warrants for the defendant’s arrest.  I said, “No, this is a civil matter.”  And yet, “No,” he said, “I have warrants for her arrest.” 

So, we strolled up to the door. The defendant, Ms. Killabrew, opened the door to the police officer.  The officer asked her name, explained that, “Mr. Jackson has papers for you.” After giving her the Citation and Petition, the officer casually asked “Ma’am, is your husband at home to watch the children? You are now under arrest.” … Ms. Killabrew, what were you thinking?