Finally some signs of resistance from the oppressed citizenry. I’ve been too busy to do much but scan the news lately, and there has been little but drivel in the headlines anyway. With no time to drill deeper it’s been a bleak week — until today that is.
Since this is exactly the kind of story that can go viral, we may as well hop on the wagon early. Some pissed-off Vermonter decided to take matters into his own hands, always an encouraging sign;
Police say Roger Pion, 34, drove to the station from Route 5, crushed three cruisers, and then moved three other cruisers and a transport van into a row to drive over them monster truck rally style.
Pion took out half the department’s fleet with the 250-horsepower Case tractor with dual front and back wheels.
“We didn’t have much time to react here and also no vehicles to pursue him with,” Chief Deputy Phil Brooks said. “Do we have a protocol for what to do when a big-ass tractor runs over all your cars — no.”
Well, that makes sense. It certainly would not have occurred to me to include such protocols in the handbook.
The cops, now sans vehicles, gave chase on foot (it’s too much to hope they were blowing their whistles and waving their truncheons aloft, a la Keystone Cops), and then, assisted by cops from another jurisdiction, arrested Roger at gunpoint;
Riendeau and the deputies pulled in behind a Newport City cruiser following Pion. Pion stopped and shifted into reverse, trying to smash into the Newport City cruiser, Macfarlane said. The Newport City cruiser backed into Riendeau’s vehicle to avoid being run over, Macfarlane said.
At that point, the officer drew their weapons on Pion and arrested him, Macfarlane said.
Pion’s apparent plan was to head to the Newport City Police station to destroy its fleet of cruisers, he said.
Pion was angry about a recent Newport City Police arrest for resisting arrest and possessing marijuana. During that arrest, Pion had a handgun in his pants, deputies confirmed.
“I have no idea why he targeted us,” Ingalls said.
One bystander at the scene, Raymond Dupuis, who said he knows the Pion family, said Pion suffered a concussion during the arrest three weeks ago. He said Pion felt harassed by local police departments.
Multiple bystanders lined the area secured with police tape, many heckling the deputies and telling them they were happy about the incident.
That last sentence just made my day, so thanks to Expat and Madame for the links.
See what happens when you let the French move in?
This has been a goddess-send as it gives us something to think and gossip about besides the beastly un-Vermontish weather and our own village scandal. It even pushed the scandal to below the fold, which I’m sure must have enraged the nasty center of the scandal and his even nastier slut of a wife who probably thought their lovey dovey photo would be top and center, but our new self-selected führer must be tickled to death, as he’s been relegated to smaller type and can continue to machinate mostly behind closed minds.
Madame,
What — there are no tractors in St. Johnsbury, or just no Frenchmen who know what they’re for? (…abreuve nos sillons, dum dee dum.)
Ah, Natasha, we do have very large tractors and also very large Frenchmen who know exactly what they’re for, and can hope that it’s only a matter of time before self-selected führer finds himself a very small and flattened führer indeed. In fact, one could almost hope for an accident when S-SF goes to gleefully inspect the utter devastation of our village park that he paid his cronies (with town monies of course) to inflict.
(I do not speak ze French so you will have to translate your above for me.)
Madame;
Probar esta.
Gunny/Madame,
It’s the context (last line of La Marseillaise) that counts: …[that an impure blood may] water our furrows.
(Get it? Tractor? Furrows? Get it?)
“Do we have a protocol for what to do when a big-ass tractor runs over all your cars — no.”
This whole incident is very confusing: marijuana, a tractor, a concussion, a handgun in someone’s pants…
I hope he wasn’t drunk. DUIs are a pain in the ass.
A handgun in the pants can be even more so.
Natasha –– The context gives me a little thrill. There is no more impure blood than that of our little führer. And I get it, I get it!
Madame,
Very true. Drunk or packin’, it’s good to be careful…
Okay, well, time for the usual weekend trip. But I will be neither drunk nor packing, though I may stop for a Red Bull.
Speaking of which, the founder of the Rockstar energy drink company is radio guy Michael Savage’s son.