Letter from Stephen Clark, SAPS Westville (Durban):
In 1990, I read the words, "What is an Urban Legend and where can I buy one?" and looked up, blinking at my dad. I had told him some fantastic story I had heard and he had rolled his eyes, muttered something unintelligible and stomped off to examine his book case.
In 1990, I read the words, "What is an Urban Legend and where can I buy one?" and looked up, blinking at my dad. I had told him some fantastic story I had heard and he had rolled his eyes, muttered something unintelligible and stomped off to examine his book case.
David Clark (dad) had been a journalist most of his life, so it was
not surprising that he had pretty much heard it all before. It was much
to his and my great joy that we discovered you, and your excellent
writing.
I cant tell you the number of times I've pulled out
"Rabbit", "Leopard" or "Ink", calmly flipped through it, held it out and
said, "Oh, my! That is and original story you just told me, and it must be true if Shirley at the frikkin tennis club just told you!"
At the moment, I'm a sergeant in the SAPS in
Westville. I "do" communications. Hell, I've fought every single damn
legend in all of your books. Some, in your latest, "Bin bag" nearly
drove me insane. I think I replied using the same, saved, script in
response to the colour signals, bin bag, chip in the key ring, the
poisoned business card and God knows how many others.
The part I really don't understand is that when you
(or I) start to use reason to explain why the story is crap, the teller
will happily start filling in the blanks with suppositions and "but what
if...". When on occasions I've given up, exasperated, they've actually
had the balls to say to me, "Fine, I'll stay enlightened, YOU can ignore
the truth!"
A personal contact with an Urban Legend that I
participated in happened during the Great Teacher Strike of 2007. Before
one marcher had come to our sleepy hollow to disrupt anything, our then
station Commander Supt Dion Singh posted a few of us to park outside
random schools and just "be visible". I got a Primary School in the
center of Westville. I sat on the bonnet of the car, from 9 to 12, read
The Mercury, smoked my pipe, chatted to the gardener, got offered tea by
the groundskeeper, coke from the secretary and more tea from the
principal herself. At quarter to 12, I was in dire threat of being
parked in as mommies began arriving to pick up their sprogs at close of
school.
The fun started the next day, Saturday. I was at a
friend's house in a neighboring suburb. It was his daughter's birthday
party. I stood, sipping juice out of a paper cup when a word across the
garden caught my attention. One mommy, center of attention, was telling a
story. This is how it went:
"They had to evacuate X primary school yesterday! It was a BOMB
threat. They had to bring in Police dogs and everything. I wouldn't be
surprised if it has something to do with those teachers striking!"
I went into Rottweiler on steroids mode. "WHAT?" I challenged. "How do you know that?"
"Umm.." looking scared, "My friend ABC told me."
"Get her on the phone NOW, I want to talk to her."
"Why?" looking very scared.
So I told her who I was and where I was 24 hours earlier.
She looked even more scared and "Ah, well, I cant remember, maybe it wasn't her."
My main concern wasn't so much that she was talking
absolute crap, but that the little disciples she had gathered round
would have exploded the story that would have made the Bubonic plague
look look like a runny nose. Of course the SAPS would have denied any
such thing happened, which would have had the experts nodding their
heads and saying, "See, I knew it was true." not caring which school it
allegedly happened at, but guaranteed it would have been a Primary
School and the "Teachers Strike" would have been a key feature.
Well, the fight between the truth and absolute crap continues.
I've
noticed an interesting development in the coloured bottle on the verge
story. The common sense Brigade has just managed to quell the legend in
the bright light of "criminals are actually allowed to own Blackberrys.
They can BBM the info about your house to each other. They don't need a
Fanta can. (Well that has started a whole new terror that BB actually
supports organised crime because the transmissions are coded and the
SAPS cannot trace or intercept them. This hasn't stopped people buying
them!)
PICK UP THE BLOODY BOTTLE OR CAN AND THROW IT AWAY !
I
got an email warning, DON'T pick up anything on your verge. And it went
on to describe how some Drano and other junk in the bottle will fizz and
blow your arm off. Except we don't have Drano in South Africa and a
friend of mine, who is knowledgeable about these things, told me the
chemistry is not completely correct.
Ah well.
Sir, I really
enjoy your books. Despite their wide publishing and people like me, your
ambassador, there are still the cretins out there who will forward
every piece of junk that comes across their Inbox. Thank you for
printing the 10 Rules. I will type them out and forward them with your
permission.
Please, if you are on Facebook, have a look at Chief Clark's Chirp. Its my page where I publish stories, crime tips,
interesting stuff and debunk the latest Urban Legend.