I seem to remember something about dogs tussling over a leg in Fort Wayne some years ago, and whether to air video of it on the news.
This was the day a sh*t-faced drunk in a pickup drove 100 miles per hour down one of the main north-south arteries in town and hit a pedestrian, whose legs he severed, her corpse somersaulting over the roof of the vehicle and into the truck bed, where it remained until the vehicle was found later that afternoon in front of a tavern. Inside police arrested the oblivious driver.
We generally have slower news days than cities like Detroit, but we hold our own when it comes to macabre human behavior.
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Nance said on February 24, 2005 at 10:48 am
Alex, If that severed-legs story hadn’t happened in my own town, I’d never have believed it. It just had the feel of an urban legend, like the one about the guy who drives the police car home and finds it the next morning, lights still going, in his garage, or its variation, about finding a corpse embedded in the grille.
But to be so loaded you don’t even know you have half a human corpse in your pickup bed — and then to be arrested at a bar — just defies belief.
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Michael G said on February 24, 2005 at 11:21 am
I don’t worry any more whether these kinds of stories are true or not, exaggerated or not. A good story is enough in itself. The pick-up truck one wasn’t bad. An amusing fillip to the Detroit leg story is that it took place in a pickle factory.
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mary said on February 24, 2005 at 12:00 pm
There was a story a few months ago, I think it happened in Virginia, of a guy so drunk he didn’t notice that his buddy in the passenger seat had been decapitated. I guess the buddy was hanging his head out the window in case he got sick, and a support cable from a power pole beheaded him. The driver found the body in the truck the next morning, and someone found a head on the side of the road. I have been drunk in my life but never that drunk.
4dbirds said on February 23, 2005 at 3:48 pm
No kidding. She was killed over her choice of a television program. We’ve had some remote control wars in our house, but nothing that led to murder.
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alex said on February 23, 2005 at 7:08 pm
I seem to remember something about dogs tussling over a leg in Fort Wayne some years ago, and whether to air video of it on the news.
This was the day a sh*t-faced drunk in a pickup drove 100 miles per hour down one of the main north-south arteries in town and hit a pedestrian, whose legs he severed, her corpse somersaulting over the roof of the vehicle and into the truck bed, where it remained until the vehicle was found later that afternoon in front of a tavern. Inside police arrested the oblivious driver.
We generally have slower news days than cities like Detroit, but we hold our own when it comes to macabre human behavior.
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Nance said on February 24, 2005 at 10:48 am
Alex, If that severed-legs story hadn’t happened in my own town, I’d never have believed it. It just had the feel of an urban legend, like the one about the guy who drives the police car home and finds it the next morning, lights still going, in his garage, or its variation, about finding a corpse embedded in the grille.
But to be so loaded you don’t even know you have half a human corpse in your pickup bed — and then to be arrested at a bar — just defies belief.
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Michael G said on February 24, 2005 at 11:21 am
I don’t worry any more whether these kinds of stories are true or not, exaggerated or not. A good story is enough in itself. The pick-up truck one wasn’t bad. An amusing fillip to the Detroit leg story is that it took place in a pickle factory.
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mary said on February 24, 2005 at 12:00 pm
There was a story a few months ago, I think it happened in Virginia, of a guy so drunk he didn’t notice that his buddy in the passenger seat had been decapitated. I guess the buddy was hanging his head out the window in case he got sick, and a support cable from a power pole beheaded him. The driver found the body in the truck the next morning, and someone found a head on the side of the road. I have been drunk in my life but never that drunk.
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