The story of the interchange between Pensacola Police Officer Bruce Camacho and a desperate criminal.
“You Shot Me!”
Bruce Camacho joined the Pensacola Police Department in 1986 as a cadet. He loved it and was even more excited when he was promoted to police officer. It was a dream come true.
He was pretty good at it, too. In 1989, as Bruce was conducting an investigation, he made contact with Cornell Watts. From his time on the street, he could tell that Watts was selling crack cocaine. When he approached Watts, he noticed the man acting nervously. It could have been the drugs, but it also might have been a weapon, so Bruce asked him to put his hands on the car. Watts took his gloves off, threw them on the car, and “assumed the position.” He patted Watts down for weapons and, even though he couldn’t legally search him for drugs, he was sure the man had something on him, and had so much that he was selling.
He didn’t find a weapon or drugs. “He couldn’t have thrown it down…I was watching.” Bruce couldn’t figure it out. Then, as he was handing Watts his gloves, he turned them fingers up, and a bunch of crack cocaine fell to the ground. All of the blood in Watt’s face left. He stood there, knowing the game was up. Bruce had won – he usually did.
The Tac Squad. It was the unit that wanted only hard-charging young guys. The supervisors picked the officers who wanted to spend their shift getting after it. For those guys, it was a great job. Bruce was now one of those guys.
Jacob Floyd grew up in Pensacola. An intelligent person, he lacked self-discipline, a deficit that got him dishonorably discharged from the US Army in 1991. What did he do? He came home. Without wanting to legally make a living, he resorted to armed robberies. Before long, people living and working on the east side of Pensacola became terrified. On July 10, the fear grew even greater for the residents and businesses when Linda George was murdered in her front yard. Citizens were afraid to venture out. But…not the police. They were actively looking for this guy. Bruce Camacho was out in front of the search.
On the evening of July 10, an anonymous call was received by the Pensacola 911 system advising that the guy everyone was looking for was walking through their neighborhood. Bruce, who was about six blocks away, was on his way before the dispatcher was through with the transmission.
“Can I talk to you for a minute?” asked Bruce.
“Sure,” the man said lightly and began walking toward Bruce.
This may not be the man, Bruce thought. He didn’t even hesitate.
When the man came to within six feet, Bruce identified himself and asked to see some identification. The man produced it easily and handed it to Bruce. When Bruce looked at it, he saw the name – Jacob Floyd. Instantly, Floyd lunged at him, knocked him down, and jumped on top of him. When Bruce pushed him back, in one motion, the man produced his handgun and pulled the trigger.
The explosion of the gun fired a round an inch away from Bruce’s head, near his left ear. It missed. Floyd immediately pulled the trigger a second time, but the slide wouldn’t move.
“It was my training,” Bruce said. “I don’t know why, but I grabbed the action of the gun just like I was trained to do, making it impossible to fire. That saved my life.”
Bruce reached into his holster pulled out his Heckler and Koch 9mm automatic pistol and pointed it at Floyd. But Floyd grabbed his gun, creating a sort of Mexican standoff. Bruce snatched his gun back and Floyd lost his grip. Bruce fired into Floyd’s chest.
“You shot me!” Floyd said as he fell back. Bruce jumped up, suddenly realizing that a crowd had gathered. Officer Doug White kept saying something to him. Although he could see Doug’s mouth moving, Bruce couldn’t hear him. He couldn’t hear anything. It was then that he realized that the gunshot near his ear caused temporary deafness. He looked around and saw his lieutenant, Norman Chapman, driving up. Chapman took Bruce into his car and whisked him away for the debriefing.
Jacob Floyd died on the way to the hospital. He was identified as the suspect in the Church’s Fried Chicken robbery, the Whataburger robbery, and the murder of Linda George. He was probably responsible for more, but those were the official cases.
January 26, 1992, 9:15 PM
Sgt. Rick Buddin was one of the favorites at the police department. When Rick was around, things were never boring. Tonight he was the master of ceremonies at the Fraternal Order of Police annual awards ceremony for the Pensacola Police Department. The ceremony was always a highlight of the year. Officers wore their Class A uniforms and wives wore their best dresses. It was a great time for all.
After dinner came the guest speaker. Then the culmination – the presentation of the awards. First came the Unit Citations. Then came the Meritorious Service Awards, the Bronze Cross awards, and the Silver Cross awards. With each of the awards came an amazing story. To hear the heroics of the officers was worth attending the banquet.
Finally, the finale. The Gold Medal of Valor. There had only been two presented in the history of the department. Tonight – the third. It would be presented to…Officer Bruce Camacho. When the story was told and Bruce came up to have Chief Louis Goss place the neck ribbon and coveted medallion over his head, the entire audience gave him a five-minute standing ovation. Sgt. Buddin stated it correctly. “It was unfortunate that someone had to die, but the department is proud of the way that Camacho handled himself in the situation.” A true hero.