I used to live on Chef Menteur Highway in New Orleans East back in the late '70s. At the time, I was a Deputy Sheriff in St. Bermard Parish. Mr roommate was the manager of a Burger King at the corner of Chef Highway at Read Boulevard. One afternoon, an irate customer stabbed her in the stomach with a large, sharpened screwdriver.
I heard the call go out on my radio, and they transmitted a description of the perpetrator and his vehicle, which I discovered was coming my way. I got into my POV and saw him coming at me, and called it in on my radio; several NOPD units joined in and we got him after a very short pursuit.
He came out gesturing with the bloody screwdriver but did not like the looks of my Smith & Wesson Model 29 .44 Magnum revolver aimed at his chest, so he surrendered quickly.
He had blood all over him and claimed that he'd done it shaving <shaking head>.
My roommate did fine and she refused to press charges on that jackass.
Another time I heard the call of a Signal 20-I, possible 20-F, (possible fatality in a traffic accident) concerning a motorcyclist and a large gravel truck very close by. No emergency units were available, and I was an EMT at the time, so I responded in my personal vehicle.
The biker was a mess, and he was bleeding to death, but I kept him going until other units got there and assisted. He made it, survived with some *extensive* plastic surgery to repair his shattered face, and I encountered him while shopping some time later and he remembered me and couldn't thank me enough for "saving him" <g>.
Ah, the good old days...