At some point following World War 2, my Dad was living in Fresno, California, attending classes at Fresno State College (now CSU Fresno). It was there that he met his future wife, our mother, Jessie Safford. But that's another story...
So apparently he and several friends were walking home following a homecoming day football game at the "Bulldogs" stadium, amidst a general atmosphere of youthful exhuberance and energy, and perhaps a slight touch of alcohol. A police officer came up to the three of them and asked them where they were going. Perhaps my Dad gave a bit of a smart-aleck reply, whereupon the officer asked him his name. "John Smith", he replied cheerfully. "Oh, so you're a bunch of wise-guys", replied the officer and turned to one of my Dad's companions. "And I suppose you're going to tell me that your name is John Paul Jones". "You're right officer, that is my name", he answered. "Okay, I've heard enough, I'm citing you all for public drunkeness" said the officer and started writing. When he finished he turned to the third member of the party and said "Put your John Henry on this". Whereupon the third companion wrote down exactly that name. As soon as he saw that, the police officer became furious and hauled all three of them down to the police station. Whereupon each of them produced identification showing that they had indeed given their correct names! After the desk sergeant released them, the arresting officer followed them out of the station. "If I ever see the three of you together", he said, "I'm going to arrest you for disturbing the peace - MY peace!
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