Chuck Martin
Tuffty stood at the entrance leading into the circle driveway to the ranch house. He was short, barrel chested, with reddish blond hair, a ruddy complexion, and wire-rimmed glasses. He wore a large brimmed, black cowboy hat; collarless white shirt underneath a black, knee length, drover coat. He held a double barreled shot-gun across his chest.
Two weeks before, working as my sergeant at the California Training Facility, a prison in Soledad, California, Tuffty was called out to the parking lot to his pickup truck where the Security Squad was waiting for him. When he arrived Officers Pete and Sam were standing there. “What’s the problem?” Tuffty asked.
“Did you know you had a hay hook in the bed of your truck?” Pete asked.
Tufty scratched his head, “I must’a left it after I bucked hay. I‘ll lock it up” He grabbed the hook and reached in his pocket to get the keys. No keys. Peering through the window he saw them in the ignition.
Sam said, “How you gonna’ get in?”
“No problem,” Tufty said. Climbing in the bed he slid the back window open. Tuffty reached in and grabbed the keys. He unlocked the door, swiftly tossed the hay hook in, and closed it.
“What’s under that blanket?” Pete asked opening the door. Reaching under the blanket on the floor Pete pulled out a rifle. “You’re in trouble. Why do you have this weapon on prison grounds?”
“I’m suppose to go hunting after work."
Sam saw an ice chest on the far side of the front seat. He pulled it out, lay it on the ground, and opened it. A six pack of beer on ice. “Did you know you had beer in here?” Sam asked.
“Well, yeah, for the hunting… Give me a break?”
“Sorry, we got to report it, and take all this as evidence. “ When Tufty came back inside he stated, “I might be in trouble.” He explained what had happened. “What do you think?” “Well, “ I answered, “A weapon and alcohol on prison grounds is a felony.” Now, Tufftystood holding the shotgun. It was April 27, 1988,and I was getting married at a friends ranch house in the hills between Salinas and Monterey, California. We thought it would be funny to dress Tufty as “Marrying Sam” from Lil’ Abner, and greet people as they entered the ranch. Tufty stood there, in trouble for having weapons and beer on prison grounds, holding a shotgun as the Captain and Associate Warden drove up the hill. The day before they had told Tufty their decision to demote him. Fearful, seeing him standing there with a gun, they wanted to turn their car around, but the road was too narrow. They braved it and drove in. Tufty said they had a desperate look on their faces. Thankfully everyone at the wedding joked about it.
Tufty was lucky, he could have lost his job. He retired last year as a Correctional Counselor II.
