PoliceLink

Good Show.....

Very nice, and similar to this one that my grandfather sent me before he died.

Here are some of my thoughts.  I am a cop.  That means that the pains and joys of my personal life are often muted by my work.  I resent the intrusion, but I confuse myself with my job almost as often as you to.  The label "police officer" or "deputy" or "sheriff" or "trooper" creates a false image of who I really am.  Sometimes I feel like I'm floating between two worlds.  My work is not just protecting and serving. I am more than just another man or woman in uniform; that's only what you see on the surface.  The depth is that my life is about preserving that buffer that exists in the space between what you think is world is, and what the world really is.



My job isn't like television.  Crimes aren't solved in an hour.  The action is less frequent, and yet, much more graphic.  It is not exhilarating to point a gun at someone, and we do it only as often as we have to; and we shoot when there is no other alternative.  I have walked in in many times, and pooled blood has a disgusting, metallic smell and steams a little when the temperature drops.  CPR isn't an instant miracle and it's no fun listening to an elderly grandmothers ribs break while I keep her heart beating in the active prayer of saving her life.



I'm not really flattered by your curiosity about my work.  I don't keep a record of which incident was the most frightening, or the strangest, or the bloodiest, or even the funniest.  I wish I could erase most of what them, because I don't want to share the images that will haunt me all the days of my life.  Why should they haunt you as well?



But I do have some confessions to make too:



Sometimes my stereo is too loud.  Andrea Boccelli's voice makes it easier to forget the wasted body of the young man who died alone in a rented room because his family feared the stigma of AIDS.  Handel's Water Music helps wash away the sight of nurses who sobbed as they scrubbed layers of dirt and slime from a neglected 2-year olds skin.  The Rolling Stones angry beat assures me that it was ignorance that drive a young mother to draw blood when she bit her toddler on the cheek in an attempt to tech him not to bite.



Sometimes I may set a bad example.  I exceeded the speed limit on my way home from work because I had trouble shedding the adrenalin that kicked in (again) when I discovered that the man I handcuffed during yet another drug raid was sitting on a loaded 9mm pistol.  My coworkers and I were inches away from one of our own funerals.  The only time I like the sound of bagpipes is at an Irish bar.



Sometimes I may seem rude.  Perhaps I was distracted and forgot to smile when you greeted me at the store because I was remembering the anguished, whispered confession of a teenager who pushed his drowning brother away to save his own life.  Sometimes I'm not as sympathetic as you'd like.  I'm not concerned that your 15-year old daughter is dating an 18-year old because I just comforted the parents of a young man who slashed his own throat while they slept in the next room.  I gave you or your kid a ticket for speeding not because I wanted to be mean or didn't have other crime to fight, but I did it because I have seen far too many people die in accidents that could and should have been prevented.  As a consequence of what you did and what I did, having to open you wallet may save you life or your child's life, but hat you may never know.  I was terse on the phone because I resented the burden of having to weigh the value of two lives when I know the collective grief of another police funeral where yet another officer has laid how their own life for another.

Both long articles (billrafferty & chellygirl1969) moved me deeply. How terribly true, so very acutely human, and what tributes to the men & women who serve.

Very sad commentary on society in large. People thinking they're above the law or impervious to it being applied to them. Not to mention believing it's all right to treat LEOs as servants, tramping on them like they were the dirt beneath their feet, all the while despising the LEOs for not having the power of law enforcement authority themselves. They appear impervious to the right of LEOs having as many human rights as they themselves hold dear, that LEOS are human beings too.....with all the same assets, good points, troubles, worries, issues. They are more than one dimensional cut-out figures. They've got depth to them. LEOs worry about their children, experience joy w/ them, have problems w/children, endure family situations, struggle w/financial binds, grieve for losses in their families, go through terrible divorces that leave them wounded, experience animosity between certain fellow officers, have to follow unreasonable dept. rules that chafe at them. They have needs for various outlets to express & feel love, fulfillment, sorrow, grief, doubt, contentment & joy......etc., etc. Prople don't have the right to dump on LEOs......there are good, sweet, honest cops, troopers, sheriffs, deputies, marshalls, Texas Rangers, military cops, whatever, etc. I'm sick to death w/groups & political opponents & religious political groups gunning for our cops. They're the ones who protect us for God's sake! I respect them a great deal, LEOs don't deserve to be treated as if they were just so much scum on the banks of a polluted river or the the sewage left in a cesspool. LEOs are all that keep us from making more mistakes, they change our lives, remove the criminals from amidst our communities & celebrate our survival of horrific crimes committed against us. Their badge means something, their uniforms are to be respected for everything it stands for; they offer integrity, engender trust, safe refuge in their presence, encourage us even under dismal circumstances, give us aid, sometimes they save us from ourselves, I salute all of those who serve, the true blues who man the line, both female & male. Off course there are bad apples in their midst, but what corporation, bank & security company, goverments or military command don't have their own share of bad apples? We must celebrate the good ones, who shine so brightly above & around the bad ones. And hopefully have these bad apples are routed out so that they don't spoil any of the good & outstanding examples of their fellow LEOs. Sorry for the long message, but felt strongly to write more that just a couple of lines. Hope you don't mind.

So very true...

Again, this is a copyrighted piece written by Officer Jill Wragg.  This essay has been plagarized, edited and sent all over the Internet usually without her byline.  What was posted here is a plagarized version.  Please do a little research before posting anything like this, someone with the talent to put her feelings (and mine) into words deserves her due credit and respect.  To read the original version, please click on Jill's profile, she has a link to her blog.  Thanks.  http://www.policelink.com/member/uneFlic

--Very ce, and similar to this one that my grandfather sent me before he died.

Here are some of my thoughts.  I am a cop.  That means that the pains and joys of my personal life are often muted by my work.  I resent the intrusion, but I confuse myself with my job almost as often as you to.  The label "police officer" or "deputy" or "sheriff" or "trooper" creates a false image of who I really am.  Sometimes I feel like I'm floating between two worlds.  My work is not just protecting and serving. I am more than just another man or woman in uniform; that's only what you see on the surface.  The depth is that my life is about preserving that buffer that exists in the space between what you think is world is, and what the world really is.





My job isn't like television.  Crimes aren't solved in an hour.  The action is less frequent, and yet, much more graphic.  It is not exhilarating to point a gun at someone, and we do it only as often as we have to; and we shoot when there is no other alternative.  I have walked in in many times, and pooled blood has a disgusting, metallic smell and steams a little when the temperature drops.  CPR isn't an instant miracle and it's no fun listening to an elderly grandmothers ribs break while I keep her heart beating in the active prayer of saving her life.--



 

So True... 

Now it's my turn...thanks for being there for my property, my pets and family, myself, and for my neighbor who may turn out to be the idiot that calls you names, cuts you down, yells at you.....and cuts down the great job you do!!!!!