My uncle earned his nickname from a childhood incident when he was eleven years old. One Sunday his mother baked four of her famous chocolate chip pies, a canal of fudge and chocolate chips smudged on top of the delicious chocolate gram crust. For the annual bake sale at the corner church. Before she went to the bake sale she had to go to the store to get a few items but before she left she told my uncle’s and aunt’s not to eat the pie. Well needless to say as soon as my grandmother left the house my uncle James began eating the delicious chocolate fudge pies my grandmother warned him not to. He ate one full pie, with no hesitation. Then two with no hesitation. , Then three full pies, with not an ounce of hesitation! Even though he had eaten most of the pies, my uncle still did not feel he had enough. Just as he was going to dig his sticky chocolaty fork into the forth pie, he heard a car out side, it was his mother! He let his cravings get the best of him. Furthermore to make a long story short; she walked in the kitchen to find one chocolate chip pie left with chocolate chips pulled off the top. My grandmother was furious especially because she specifically said, “do not eat the pies to all my uncles and aunts.” She interrogated my uncles and aunts one by one in the kitchen. And when she called my uncle to the kitchen, he hesitated and walked into the kitchen into what he thought was litterly a sticky situation. So when he was in the kitchen my grandmother noticed chocolate chips around his mouth and shirt, unknowingly to my uncle, who had just thought he wipping the chocolate chips from his mouth to his shirt would help the situation. . Well we can all assume what happened next. My uncle suffered greatly from eating the pies. The humorous part is that the name Pie was given to him and he’s still known by that nickname today, by all his nephews, nieces, and practically the whole family.

  My uncle later became the first African, American police officer in Bells, Tennessee from 1968 through 1978. During those two years he was a patrol officer. After his term as a patrol officer he became the first African American police chief from 1978 through 1989. Being an ethnic police officer, not to mention a police chief was not an easy or inspiring job. My Uncle Pie broke many racial barriers during his career in corrections. My Uncle Pie had many memorable stories from his time as an officer. Good memories, though some are very horrific.

  One of my uncle’s more horrific stories happened in Bells, Tennessee on a dark gloomy night. Well, first off, my uncle was always last to clock in for the night. He was because he loved his job; the feeling of helping someone in his or her time of need intrigued him. Many people in the town loved his dedication to clocking in so late, some did not.  Well anyways, my Uncle pie was sitting in his booth waiting to hear anything over dispatch, were he hears the operator saying a priority call claiming there was a fatal vehicle accident on O’le Country Road (long narrow mile long road, with no street lights) My Uncle immediately jerked around his chair, wiped his lunch crumbs off of his face, and accepted the call. So my Uncle stood up promptly and went to get his keys off the key rack. As he proceeded to his car one of his colleagues, actually his best friend yelled out to him could he go on call with him. And as usual he said “sure why not “. So the duo proceeded to O’le Country Road. During the pursuit to the road my uncle sensed something eerie, he just brushed it off as needing some sleep. So furthermore when they arrived to the dark narrow road, they didn’t see any cars, actually they didn’t see anything. So my uncle and Wayne his best friend decided they should step out and look around before they actually assume it was a prank. So after a 10 minute search to find nothing for noting they decided to lean on the hood of the car and call dispatch and tell them it was ruled out as a prank. Then out of nowhere, a speeding ruthless driver was ragging down the narrow rode so fast with something silver and glittery hanging out the window. It all happened so fast within a couple a seconds. The reckless driver was headed towards the patrol car going extraordinarily fast. My uncle was on the right side of the car so he was next to the field. And his best friend Wayne was on the left near the narrow rode. Then swoosh!! It turns out the silver thing hanging out the window was actually a sword. He purposely decapitated the police officer unknowingly that it was Wayne, only because no streetlights were on the street. Wayne head fell in to my Uncles arms. ,As he passed out. One day later, my uncle woke up in the hospital with plenty of injuries. My uncle had many broken ribs, a mangled hand, and a badly damaged spirit. My uncle also had a bad case of survivor’s guilt. Even though as a police my uncle solved many cases, the culprit in this horrific crime was never found.

  As well of having horrific memories, my uncle also had some good memories. One of my uncles most proudest moments as a police officer was actually when he was elected to the Police Chief in 1978, in Bells Tennessee, as the first African American. So of course he was ecstatic that he won especially because all of the runners were all Caucasian in a small town were Caucasians were dominant in the race count. My uncle honestly thought that he would not win, he honestly just ran because his collogues convinced him too. All of my Uncles Pie's hard work had paid off.

My uncle Pie now resides in Indianapolis, Indiana, after his long memorable service as a police officer and police Chief. I’m so very proud for my uncle and what he accomplished. This is to me is a prime example that even if you had obstacles in your way always do what you are aiming to accomplish. My Uncle Pie could have been easily persuaded to change his career, but he didn’t. My uncle pie is my role model, my hero, but most important of all he is my uncle.