This is one of those stories that may take longer to tell than many of you have patience for. I’ll try to be as brief as possible, yet still giving you the essence of what happened.
About 10 years ago, I needed to see my spine surgeon in San Antonio. Tommy Houy rode along. He remembered that he had recently spoken to a fellow down that way that had an old Plymouth for sale. Anyone that knows Tommy understands about his affinity for anything MOPAR.
He found the guys number and called him as we left San Antonio. They arraigned to meet at the entrance to the guys gated subdivision, Stallion Estates, between SA and Blanco.
We pulled up and parked. Shortly thereafter some guy in a very poorly restored piece of junk pulled through the gate.
It was my intention to sit there while Tommy kicked tires and said thanks but no thanks. But never turning a friend down, Tommy ask me to snap a few pictures. Mainly to be a reminder of what waste of time that was.
I walked over and snapped a few pictures. The guy flew into a rage. “Who told you that you could take pictures of my restoration?”
I very nicely explained that my friend had requested that I use photographic prowess to capture the essence of the beauty of his very fine automobile. Well really I said, “Tommy told me to“.
At that point I was ready to leave. The guy insisted I delete any pictures that I had taken and about that time my niceness began to fade away. About that time, the guy ran around the car a couple of times.
I looked and Tommy was already situated in the passenger seat of my car. The doofus jumped in and peeled out as he clicked his gate remote. He was hightailing it down the road. Tommy and I cruised on back to Marble.
Later that day I received a call from a Blanco Co. Deputy telling me he had received a complaint from a fellow at Stallion Estates. Once the guy came over and filled out a formal complaint he would be getting back in touch with me and he’d let me know what was next.
Besides Tommy calling to tell me that our buddy Charley Swift was going to call and play a trick on me, the Deputy sounded exactly like Charley.
I used to have digital recording equipment with me just for occasions like this. As soon as my phone rang that afternoon I clicked RECORD.
I told him how it wasn’t my fault, that Tommy, my buddy was the one that threaten the guy and I just sat in the car the whole time, like a real weasel.
A day or so passed and Charley couldn’t leave it alone. So he called (I clicked RECORD) and here we go again. It was the real Charley Swift calling because he was sitting in the Coffee Shop that morning and overhead some Blanco Co. Deputies talking and they were getting ready to serve a warrant for a terrorist threat that happened down at Stallion Estates. He was afraid it they were talking about me. I told him I appreciated the heads up.
So to wrap this deal up I got Tommy to get ahold of the Chief Deputy over in Blanco Co (they were friends – Tommy had introduced me to him not long before) and to get him in on it.
The final chapter played out as follows: at a prearranged time 6:30 AM the real Deputy, Tommy and Charley met at the Red Eye Truck-stop. I was just down the road. A call was placed to my cell phone (Charley thought that I was at home in Bertram ) from the Deputies mobile phone. (Click the Record button). His police radio going off in the background for effect. I answered and the officer told me that he had an arrest warrant with my name on it and needed me to come on over to Johnson City and turn myself in. At that point I flew into a rage, telling him how screwed up that deal was and why didn’t they go catch real criminals like that guy outside of Johnson City that I figured had at least a hundred pounds of marijuana stashed in his barn. His name is Charley Swift. And how I thought he was also running a prostitution ring out of his house too. If he could get me off this deal, I would go undercover and help him get that Swift character. That’s what you can do sir, to clean up your little shit hole of a town.
Tommy said Swift had turned white because I had flipped out with this Deputy.
Finally I whimpered a little and agreed to come on over, provided I could stop at the school and say goodbye to my grandkids, because they’d really miss me.
Knowing it all was coming to an end, I rolled into the Red Eye and rolled up and tapped Charley with my front bumper. He was so spellbound by the events of the last few minutes he hadn’t even heard my car engine behind him. After the tap and he turned around to us all laughing,
I’m not sure I’ve ever seen anyone as confused as he was. He didn’t know what to say or think.
This had taken a week to completely pull off. It wasn’t scripted from the start, we would just twist with each turn.
The recordings I made were all stitched together and narrated. Not professionally done but well enough to make a couple dozen CD’s to hand out to our friends.
They even had a professional label – The Legend of Sheriff Charley Swift.
No efforts were spared in pulling this off.
I’m not sure what ever happened to all the CD’s. If I run across one maybe I can attach an audio clip on here.
The motto to this story: Don’t Mess With The Bull, Because You May Get The Horn.
I almost forgot.
When I made the CD’s of Sheriff Swift there were 2 versions. The one mentioned before and an almost X rated one that Tommy and I kept for ourselves. That’s the one where I asked Charley about a lot of perverted things he may or may not have done as a kid.
He admitted to things I didn’t even know happened. But knowing him they could have, so I threw them in. Like Hey Charley, tell me again that story when you and……..
To which he blurted out all kinds of valuable information.