Citrus: Corralling escapees? Here's guy for the job

Corralling escapees? Here's guy for the job

By GREG HAMILTON

Kevin McCurdy had just finished his shift at the Rusty Duck restaurant and was getting on his Harley to go home when a bloody, escaped inmate strolled out of the woods toward him.

As he stood in the parking lot on State Road 44 about 10 p.m. on May 4, Anthony Valazquez meandered over with a simple request: Get me as far away from here as possible.

Now, you and I might feel a twinge of anxiety if a well-muscled young man wearing a jail uniform caked in blood stepped out of the shadows and demanded that we help further his escape from the law. An immediate change in our underwear might even be in order.

But if this sort of thing is going to happen to anyone, McCurdy is the man for the job. Not much rattles his cage.

If you've been to the Rusty Duck any time in the past three years, you've no doubt met McCurdy. He's the tall drink of water with a pony tail whose head seems to scrape the ceiling as he navigates the small spaces among the tables.

If not there, then maybe you've run into him at some of the other area restaurants where he has worked. Or seen him on his Harley around town. Seems few people in Citrus don't know McCurdy.

Our reporters interviewed him soon after the incident, but you just knew there was more to the story. Chatting with him last week, it came tumbling out in McCurdy's typical, rapid-fire style.

Facing the muscular 18-year-old ("He'd put his four years behind bars to good use working out," McCurdy noted), the 46-year-old waiter started chatting.

"I thought he had just had a fight with someone, but he said he had just escaped from prison. He said he had to get out because the other inmates were beating him up too much."

McCurdy asked about the blood, and Valazquez told him he got cut on the razor wire that surrounds his former home, the Cypress Creek Detention Facility, a short jog through the woods from the restaurant.

"I went to psychology," McCurdy said, smiling. "What are your options? Do you have any money?"

"No," said Valazquez. "I'm gonna hitchhike."

"You do know you're wearing a prison uniform," McCurdy pointed out.

Then there is the matter of the police searching for him. "The helicopter was flying over and I told him, "You know, they have heat sensors in those things.' "

By this time, a half-dozen other employees had joined the pair. They offered Valazquez a Coke, which he turned down. "We kept pressing him that his best option was to turn himself in," McCurdy said.

Just then, a sheriff's cruiser crawled by and parked a short distance away from the gathering, apparently on the prowl for the escapee.

"I made a decision," McCurdy said. " "Let's go,' I told him, and started walking toward the police car. I was waving my hands and yelling, "Hey, I got your suspect,' but the guy had his windows up and didn't hear me. The glass was tinted, so he couldn't see me, either."

The absurdity of a deaf and blind lookout cracked him up. He asked about it later and was told by the Sheriff's Office that he simply doesn't understand police tactics. That answer brought out the philosopher in McCurdy. "Isn't fixity the hallmark of the living dead?" he asked.

By this time, Valazquez had put his hands behind his head and caught up with McCurdy. They finally got the deputy's attention and the runaway surrendered.

The incident brought back memories for the Rusty Duck crew. About four years ago, a masked gunman went in the back door of the kitchen and demanded money. Owner Louise Aneiro thought it was a joke and kept right on cooking. A dishwasher figured out what was happening and wrestled with the robber, who ran away.

I guess coolness under fire is a prerequisite for working at the Duck. So is a sense of humor. Our story of Valazquez's capture, written in haste on deadline, inadvertently put McCurdy under arrest with the escapee. He took the mistake in stride.

"Although I have been a guest of Sheriff Charlie Dean's hotel a time or two (another tale for another day), I have not yet had a similar experience with the new gun in town, Jeff Dawsy," said McCurdy. He added that several friends called after the story ran to tease him: "Kevin, are you in jail again?"

Given the way the lockups around here are run, he wouldn't be in there very long.

Let's see: Valazquez and two other inmates escaped after a Cypress Creek staffer gave them the key to the joint. Several juvenile detainees have simply walked away from the Brown School in Lecanto in part because a fence officials want to put around the place is hung up in a zoning dispute. And who can forget the famous escape from the county jail a few years back when someone left a door unlocked and a ladder lying nearby?

I would suggest that the county just hire McCurdy and the Rusty Duck crew to corral the wayward inmates, but I'm sure the law enforcers would balk. After all, the waiter and busboys obviously don't understand police tactics.