[Vigilanteman]

Many years ago, my father was elected Justice of the Peace of a small town in Kansas. It wasn't a job he either ran for, wanted or sought. The town wanted him because he was one of the few people eligible with a college education.

I was a lad of 8 when the State Police came and knocked on the door one night and I overheard a conversation like this:

Police: Sorry to bother you so late at night, Mr. K__, but we need help with an investigation.

Dad: What can I do to help?

Police: (Perp) showed up at the ER last night with his male equipment cut off. Do you have any idea who might have done that?

Dad: No I don't. But I'm not surprised. (Perp) has quite a reputation in this town for taking indecent liberties with other men's wives and daughters. Do you want me to ask around?

Police: No, Mr. K__, you answered our question just fine with your first sentence. We just want to close our investigation.

That's the way it was done back in the early 1960s.

[Tax-chick]

My grandfather, a small-town doctor, told a similar story about the totally mysterious death-by-shotgun of a man whose battered wife and stepchildren couldn’t possibly have had anything to do with it. Must have been a vagrant.

[ProtectOurFreedom]

Those were the days. It sounds like it could have happened in 1880.