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Postby stomperrob » Fri Dec 15, 2006 9:08 pm

Words of others more eloquent than I:

]"A Part of America Died"

Somebody killed a policeman today,

and part of America died.

A piece of our country he swore to protect,

will be buried with him at his side.

The suspect that shot him will stand up in court,

with counsel demanding his rights.

While a young widowed mother must work for her kids,

and spend many long, lonely nights.

The beat that he walked was a battle field too,

just as if he'd gone off to war.

Though the flag of our nation won't fly at half mast,

to his name they will add a gold star.

Yes, somebody killed a policeman today,

in your town or mine.

While we slept in comfort behind our locked doors,

a cop put his life on the line.

Now his ghost walks a beat on a dark city street,

and he stands at each new rookie's side.

He answered the call,

of himself gave his all,

And A Part of America Died.

]"I am the Officer"

I have been where you fear to be,

I have seen what you fear to see,

I have done what you fear to do -

All these things I have done for you.

I am the person you lean upon,

The one you cast your scorn upon,

The one you bring your troubles to -

All these people I've been for you.

The one you ask to stand apart,

The one you feel should have no heart,

The one you call "The Officer in Blue,"

But I'm just a person, just like you.

And through the years I've come to see,

That I am not always what you ask of me;

So, take this badge ... take this gun ...

Will you take it ... will anyone?

And when you watch a person die

And hear a battered baby cry,

Then do you think that you can be

All these things you ask of me?

Not Just A Symbol

The young man came forward, his face drawn and sad
And he held out his hand, displaying his badge.
The old chief rocked slowly and put his hands in his lap
And shook his head gently, and said, "What is this crap?"

The young cop sniffed, and from his eye wiped a tear,
"I've given you my best for almost one year.
But I make no difference, as I once thought I could,
There is far more evil out there than is good."

The old chief stared up into the young rookie's eyes
And tried to recall something clever and wise.
"Tell me" he said, to the once eager young cop.
"How many DUI's in a year have you popped?"

"Forty-two," the rookie replied with great pride.
"And had you not, how many more might have died?
It's not how many are arrested, now, is it?
It's how many less accident scenes you must visit."

The kid hung his head, and flexed his strong hands,
"But, sir," he said, softly," You don't understand.
"We're greatly outnumbered, the drugs are the worst,
The schools are like hell and the streets , they are cursed."

"Dealers breed like damn roaches. On the kids, they all prey,
And even when arrested, they are out the next day."
The old chief set his jaw, and tapped a red finger,
And on the young cop, his eyes sadly lingered.

"If one little kid cannot get connected,
If one pregnant junkie finds the strength to reject it,
If one lousy addict decides he can beat it,
If one crack-head in a million says I just don't need it...

Then you...have removed his greatest temptation,
If only for a night, it might be be his salvation,
And wars are not won by those who say: Screw it.
They are won by the men who decide they can do it.

The rookie pulled up an old wooden chair
And running a hand through his shock of brown hair,
"But what about the children and poor battered wives?
Why can't we stop it and fix all those lives?"

"Each time you set foot in that same, run-down house
Each time you go back to bust that same dirty louse,
For the children and wife, the violence has ceased,
If for only a few hours, you offer them peace."

"You cannot dictate their sad chosen path,
You cannot stop his booze-laden wrath,
You can't pack their belongings and cart them away
But you can prevent murder for just one more day."

"But sir," he said, his heart heavy like lead,
"I know there are dirtbags who wish I were dead,
But the public, the press, the politicians fling mud,
And who says thank you when we shed some blood?"

The chief pursed his lips, his answer unknown
For he knew it was this pain that hurt to the bone,
"There's no easy answers for the ache that you feel,
But appreciation and praise just ain't part of the deal."

"The respect, gratitude and admiration, too
Will not come from people who can't do what we do.
You ask for a sense of honor and pride,
My advice, my son, is to look deep down inside."

The young cop stared down at the badge in his hand
And he knew he would not resign as he planned,
For he saw the badge now as not just something he does,
It was not just a symbol...It's what he was.

The Lousy Cop

Dear Mr. Citizen:

It seems you have figured me out. I seem to fit neatly into the category where you placed me. I'm stereotyped, standardized, characterized, classified, grouped, and always typical. I'm the "lousy cop". Unfortunately, the reverse is true..I can never figure you out.

From birth you teach your children that I am a person to be aware of, and then you are shocked when they identify me with my traditional enemy...the criminal.

You accuse me of coddling juveniles, until I catch your kid doing something.

You may take an hour for lunch and several coffee breaks each day, but point me out as a loafer if you see me having just one cup.

You pride yourself on your polished manners, but think nothing of interrupting my meals at noon with your troubles.

You raise hell with the person who cuts you off in traffic, but let me catch you doing the same thing and I'm picking on you. You know all the traffic laws...but you never got one single ticket you deserved.

You shout "FOUL!!" if you observe me driving fast, en route to an emergency call, but literally raise hell if I take more than ten seconds responding to your call.

You call it "part of my duty" if someone strikes me. But it's "police brutality" if I strike back.

You wouldn't think of telling your dentist how to pull a badly decayed tooth, or a doctor how to take out your appendix, but you are always giving me pointers on law enforcement.

You talk to me in a manner and use language that would assure a bloody nose from anyone else, but you expect me to stand there and take it without batting an eye.

You say "something has to be done about all the crime", but you can't be bothered with getting involved.

You've got no use for me at all, but of course, it's OK if I change a tire for your wife, or deliver a baby on the back seat of my squad car on the way to the hospital, or save your son's life with mouth-to-mouth resuscitation, or work many hours of overtime to find your lost daughter.

So, Dear Citizen, you stand there on your soap box and rant and rave about the way I do my job, calling me every name in the book, but never stop to think that your property, your family, or maybe your life might depend on one or one of my buddies.

Yes, Mr. Citizen, it's me......The Lousy Cop!

(Author unknown)

The Final Inspection
Author Unknown

The policeman stood and faced his God,
Which must always come to pass.
He hoped his shoes were shining.
Just as brightly as his brass.

"Step forward now, policeman.
How shall I deal with you?
Have you always turned the other cheek?
To My church have you been true?"

The policeman squared his shoulders and said,
"No, Lord, I guess I ain't,
Because those of us who carry badges
can't always be a saint.

I've had to work most Sundays,
and at times my talk was rough,
and sometimes I've been violent,
Because the streets are awfully tough.

But I never took a penny,
That wasn't mine to keep....
Though I worked a lot of overtime
When the bills got just too steep.

And I never passed a cry for help,
Though at times I shook with fear.
And sometimes, God forgive me,
I've wept unmanly tears.

I know I don't deserve a place
Among the people here.
They never wanted me around
Except to calm their fear.

If you've a place for me here, Lord,
It needn't be so grand.
I never expected or had too much,
But if you don't.....I'll understand.

There was silence all around the throne
Where the saints had often trod.
As the policeman waited quietly,
For the judgement of his God.

"Step forward now, policeman,
You've borne your burdens well.
Come walk a beat on Heaven's streets,
You've done your time in hell."

My Brother

Although I never met him, I knew him.

He was idealistic and believed he could make a difference.

He was immensely proud of the uniform and the badge and what

they represent.

He felt privileged to be of service to his department, his

community and to his country.

He was a cop.

Although I never met him, I knew him.

He was friendly, courteous, and polite, yet firm.

He laughed and joked, but was serious when necessary.

He was competent, trained, and professional.

He was a cop.

Although I never met him, I knew him.

He had a strong sense of right and wrong and became

frustrated when true justice became sidetracked.

He felt the sharp criticism that goes with the job, but he

never wavered.

He stood by and for his fellow officers.

He was a cop.

Although I never met him, I knew him.

He longed for his family during the long hours.

He worried about them during his shifts and the lonely

weekends,holidays and midnights when they were apart.

He felt guilty about the lost time, but knew his calling

and prayed they would understand.

He was a cop.

Although I never met him, I knew him.

He was a good son, a loving husband, and a devoted father.

He was dedicated to the profession and cared about the

people he served.

He wanted to do the best job that he could and strived to

be the best he could be.

He was a good citizen and a good neighbor.

He was a cop.

Yes, I did know him.

He was a cop, he was my brother.

Written by - Lt. William Smith

Township of Derry Police Department

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Postby maddog60 » Fri Dec 15, 2006 9:26 pm

stomperrob made one particular point I think many people so often forgot when they deal with cops. Put yourself in their shoes for one moment.

A couple weeks ago, I got pulled over. It was at night, and I'd pulled into a parking lot that was closed. I didn't see the sign because of the lack of light, and almost immediately the officer came up behind me with lights flashing.

Now, my girlfriend, not apparently accustomed to such encounters, actually opened the door to get out of the car. Later on, she didn't think twice about opening the glove compartment while I was trying to find my insurance card. While both these actions were harmless, and luckily the cop was able to decipher that rather quickly, I would not at all have been surprised if he moved for his gun.

From a cop's perspective, you don't know what you're coming up to when you pull someone over. I always trying to have my window down and my hands on the top of wheel so that the officer can see that I present no threat. Unseen hands, going into glove compartments, getting out of the vehicle, these all present added potential risk to the police officer. I really think more people would understand their encounters with cops if they thought about how their behavior might put them on edge, since they do deal with the lowest forms of human beings so the rest of us don't have to.
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