While running this morning I offered up praise to St. Sebastian for giving me the body and the will to hit the streets everyday. It was the perfect weather for movement; overcast, damp, at first chilly. Each breath in was nearly twenty-five percent water vapor; good for any running fool.
Laying down in my bed last night I started on my thanks-giving. There was a long silence after my usual fumblings of gratitude. I clasped my hands together, took in deep breath after deep breath; I couldn't get him out of my mind. At once it made me feel both ridiculously human and embarrassed for the truth of my selfishness. Sometimes we can't help what the heart asks for, is the thought that I reconciled myself with. Maybe patience is my way of being penitent. I would not be able to act in a way which would bring discredit to me, or he, or to break His covenant; which requires great patience, almost to the point of negation. And there I lay, hands clasped, telling myself that Nature provides us with what we are meant to have.
But the heart, oh how it hopes.
St. Michael guide my feet this weekend. Protect my brethren and me with a ready sword. Let us do your work in our mortal jurisdictions. St. Dwynwen help me to find happiness, resolve. And more than anything, patience.
4.4.08
2.4.08
Choir Practice
Got my second warrant arrest out of a traffic stop last night. Right place, right car, right time to ask for ID from the occupants, St. Michael rides with me and whispers in my ear, I think. This time JD was my backup and it was like old times. Parked car-to-car at a gas station at the halfway point, it was nothing but inside jokes shot like arrows from he to me and back again, across the asphalt, grazing Matt but never hitting him. It is as if I have already known some of those guys for years.
In the station they told me to save some arrests for everyone else. Laughing the whole time, and again with the Mother Hen. This time my Sgt. re-enacted the birth of my nickname, complete with pecking and wing-flapping. I laughed so hard that I couldn't breathe.
There were eleven cars on the road last night, with thirteen of us clad in blue, we were tripping all over each other and it was fantastic. You couldn't turn a corner without seeing a zone car.
At shift outing we were at least twenty. A huge table with never-empty pitchers of beer and pans of pizza and I, rookie that I am, never paid a dime. This is what it is to be a part of the fold, I guess. They kept coming up, in various stages of inebriation, telling me I had passed the test. It is kind of like inheriting a ridiculously loyal family-in-law, but without the hassle of marriage. We are dysfunctional but we don't let it stop us. One by one I made eye-contact with my brothers around the table and one-by-one we honored each other. And then this morning one of the guys (who could only attend via cell phone because of school) sent me a text making sure I made it home in one piece.
Glory Be. What else could you want?
That my overflowing cup would spill out and fill the cups of those who thirst yet are still not quenched. That all who seek would find this kind of meaning.
In the station they told me to save some arrests for everyone else. Laughing the whole time, and again with the Mother Hen. This time my Sgt. re-enacted the birth of my nickname, complete with pecking and wing-flapping. I laughed so hard that I couldn't breathe.
There were eleven cars on the road last night, with thirteen of us clad in blue, we were tripping all over each other and it was fantastic. You couldn't turn a corner without seeing a zone car.
At shift outing we were at least twenty. A huge table with never-empty pitchers of beer and pans of pizza and I, rookie that I am, never paid a dime. This is what it is to be a part of the fold, I guess. They kept coming up, in various stages of inebriation, telling me I had passed the test. It is kind of like inheriting a ridiculously loyal family-in-law, but without the hassle of marriage. We are dysfunctional but we don't let it stop us. One by one I made eye-contact with my brothers around the table and one-by-one we honored each other. And then this morning one of the guys (who could only attend via cell phone because of school) sent me a text making sure I made it home in one piece.
Glory Be. What else could you want?
That my overflowing cup would spill out and fill the cups of those who thirst yet are still not quenched. That all who seek would find this kind of meaning.
1.4.08
Tonight, eleven
Used to be my lucky number.
The first hour I drove around my zone in big concentric circles, wondering what I was supposed to be doing. I jumped at the first chance to be someone's backup, to mete out my own SIFA, and then again drove around in ever-narrowing rings. I parked at one of the many fishing holes in the city, and called my brother-in-law for guidance. "Now what?" As always, he gave me good advice, and no sooner had I devised a plan for myself a call came out and I had a mission. It mostly went like that for the rest of the night and each day thereafter has been a watered down version of the above. I'm slowly getting used to steering the ship where I want it to go.
The other night I made my first DUS/Warrant stop. Nature provided me with all that needed, in that BB had switched with one of the guys and was working on our shift. My warrant appeared on his MDT and a second later his nasal voice was on channel 3, "A., you got him?" And when I said he was my driver BB came back with, "I'm on my way from the mall," and over the radio I could hear the car already in gear, the engine revving. They pay me to do this, I kept thinking. He came flying down the road and we, cops that we are, handled it.
They applauded me in the squad room later, mostly I think to rub it in the faces of the other rookies. And still they tease me about how protective I am of the guys, most of whom are twice my size and could probably bench my weight one-handed. They call me Mother Hen now. In the same way that MLE calls me Scrappy Doo. This is the best nickname they could have come up with, because as easy as it is to forget this, everyday we call 10-8 we're walking a line between life and death. You just never know. It's good to have over-protective, compulsive, type-A people as your backup.
Blessed Father thank you for all that you have bestowed upon me. I hope that someday my actions will have made me worthy of such gifts. St. Michael protect me and my brethren with a ready sword, guide us in our duty of herding the flock on earth as you do above. In nomine Patris, et fillii, et Spiritus Sancti.
Another eight tonight and then shift outing. I am so freaking lucky.
The first hour I drove around my zone in big concentric circles, wondering what I was supposed to be doing. I jumped at the first chance to be someone's backup, to mete out my own SIFA, and then again drove around in ever-narrowing rings. I parked at one of the many fishing holes in the city, and called my brother-in-law for guidance. "Now what?" As always, he gave me good advice, and no sooner had I devised a plan for myself a call came out and I had a mission. It mostly went like that for the rest of the night and each day thereafter has been a watered down version of the above. I'm slowly getting used to steering the ship where I want it to go.
The other night I made my first DUS/Warrant stop. Nature provided me with all that needed, in that BB had switched with one of the guys and was working on our shift. My warrant appeared on his MDT and a second later his nasal voice was on channel 3, "A., you got him?" And when I said he was my driver BB came back with, "I'm on my way from the mall," and over the radio I could hear the car already in gear, the engine revving. They pay me to do this, I kept thinking. He came flying down the road and we, cops that we are, handled it.
They applauded me in the squad room later, mostly I think to rub it in the faces of the other rookies. And still they tease me about how protective I am of the guys, most of whom are twice my size and could probably bench my weight one-handed. They call me Mother Hen now. In the same way that MLE calls me Scrappy Doo. This is the best nickname they could have come up with, because as easy as it is to forget this, everyday we call 10-8 we're walking a line between life and death. You just never know. It's good to have over-protective, compulsive, type-A people as your backup.
Blessed Father thank you for all that you have bestowed upon me. I hope that someday my actions will have made me worthy of such gifts. St. Michael protect me and my brethren with a ready sword, guide us in our duty of herding the flock on earth as you do above. In nomine Patris, et fillii, et Spiritus Sancti.
Another eight tonight and then shift outing. I am so freaking lucky.
26.3.08
Fifty-two-what?
And a Shepherd I shall be
For thee, my Lord, for thee.
Power hath descended forth from Thy hand
My feet may swiftly carry out Thy commands.
St. Michael, guide me with a ready sword,
St. Christopher lead me with the light of our Lord.
In Nomeni Patri, Et Fili, Spiritus Sancti.
I offer thanks for all that I have been given. For the mental discipline I gained while at the Academy, though I suffered the whole way through, I am a stronger person now. (And no suffering goes unnoticed.) For the training officers that I had, how incredibly lucky I am that it worked out the way it did. For not being stuck with a "bad apple" for very long and for having countless allies who stepped in and helped me get through the short time that I was. For my mentor, flawed as he is, for his guidance, humor, zeal and enthusiasm. For his efforts at being a spiritual father to me, that he could sense my wanderings and stepped in with his Shepherd's staff. May his family be blessed beyond the limits of this material existence. For the family that I am a part of, that my genetics gave me an advantage over the others. To my father for passing on his charm with strangers, especially emotionally and mentally disturbed people. That I don't feel lost when talking with people whose words make absolutely no kind of sense. For all of my relatives, departed, whom I started calling on in the early morning hours at the Academy, and find myself praying to for guidance on my way to calls. To all the saints and holy people of this world present and past, for your work and devotion.
In a few days I'll be riding on my own. I'll let you know how it goes...
For thee, my Lord, for thee.
Power hath descended forth from Thy hand
My feet may swiftly carry out Thy commands.
St. Michael, guide me with a ready sword,
St. Christopher lead me with the light of our Lord.
In Nomeni Patri, Et Fili, Spiritus Sancti.
I offer thanks for all that I have been given. For the mental discipline I gained while at the Academy, though I suffered the whole way through, I am a stronger person now. (And no suffering goes unnoticed.) For the training officers that I had, how incredibly lucky I am that it worked out the way it did. For not being stuck with a "bad apple" for very long and for having countless allies who stepped in and helped me get through the short time that I was. For my mentor, flawed as he is, for his guidance, humor, zeal and enthusiasm. For his efforts at being a spiritual father to me, that he could sense my wanderings and stepped in with his Shepherd's staff. May his family be blessed beyond the limits of this material existence. For the family that I am a part of, that my genetics gave me an advantage over the others. To my father for passing on his charm with strangers, especially emotionally and mentally disturbed people. That I don't feel lost when talking with people whose words make absolutely no kind of sense. For all of my relatives, departed, whom I started calling on in the early morning hours at the Academy, and find myself praying to for guidance on my way to calls. To all the saints and holy people of this world present and past, for your work and devotion.
In a few days I'll be riding on my own. I'll let you know how it goes...
12.3.08
Plink.
It was SO SLOW last night so we screwed around in the range for awhile and I got to shoot this:
The first trigger pull requires ape-like grip strength but once you get used to it, it's no big deal. The single-action pull plinks away like a bb gun, amazing! The bad guy in the target had a quarter-size cluster in his left eyeball after I was done with him. I will be adding this little destroyer to my uniform in the very near future...
Then afterwards we were sipping our coffee, cruising, talking, bonding, and he tells me that people go back and forth on caliber size and the 380 usually isn't given a lot of credit because of this ambiguous notion of "stopping power". He says that he'd rather have something that's going to put rounds down range than to have nothing at all. (Aim for the spine, the eye; smaller targets mean higher accuracy.) My dad used to say something similar, that he'd rather be tried by twelve than carried by six. I found myself making a mental note to think about this at the beginning of every shift. How quickly complacency can work itself into the daily routine, as if nothing bad could happen because it hasn't yet.
Remember, like your sergeant told you, you are trained for the very worst situations. You go in hoping that you're the one who gets to take the shot because that way you don't hesitate when you are.
Maybe someday peace and love will reign supreme. But for tonight I'll be sure to vest up and think tactically.
The first trigger pull requires ape-like grip strength but once you get used to it, it's no big deal. The single-action pull plinks away like a bb gun, amazing! The bad guy in the target had a quarter-size cluster in his left eyeball after I was done with him. I will be adding this little destroyer to my uniform in the very near future...
Then afterwards we were sipping our coffee, cruising, talking, bonding, and he tells me that people go back and forth on caliber size and the 380 usually isn't given a lot of credit because of this ambiguous notion of "stopping power". He says that he'd rather have something that's going to put rounds down range than to have nothing at all. (Aim for the spine, the eye; smaller targets mean higher accuracy.) My dad used to say something similar, that he'd rather be tried by twelve than carried by six. I found myself making a mental note to think about this at the beginning of every shift. How quickly complacency can work itself into the daily routine, as if nothing bad could happen because it hasn't yet.
Remember, like your sergeant told you, you are trained for the very worst situations. You go in hoping that you're the one who gets to take the shot because that way you don't hesitate when you are.
Maybe someday peace and love will reign supreme. But for tonight I'll be sure to vest up and think tactically.
11.3.08
Time
Moonlight illuminate my night and my days sun ray make the people say
And a vision some thing's missing so they're screaming out loud
Keep my feet on ground and my head in the clouds.
I'm the arrow, you're my bow, shoot me forth and I will go
And I know and I go and I go get up and go
Make me feel its for real tell me what you know.
And a vision some thing's missing so they're screaming out loud
Keep my feet on ground and my head in the clouds.
I'm the arrow, you're my bow, shoot me forth and I will go
And I know and I go and I go get up and go
Make me feel its for real tell me what you know.
9.3.08
Choose wisely
It seems, when I think about it, that I try to emulate him now when I go on calls. I think that I channel the slight condescension during interrogations, the calm steady way of fact gathering, methodical, organized. In a rush for no one. Slow is smooth, and smooth is fast they'd tell us at the academy. He is the example, personified.
I think about when we were in the jail trying to get information out of a pill addict. I was at first shocked at how rude he was, a part of his personality I hadn't seen up to that point. Now it makes sense (I still have to lose some of the baby fat). All the suggestions, the different ways of doing things, the questions, the motives. When we were on the side of the highway, walking up to the stopped car, and he looks at me and tells me which way to go if he yells "jump". All the hours spent imparting knowledge, with the occasional corny as hell joke.
I will be lonely when it's over!
But I am ridiculously lucky. As if now I could ever deny His existence, after all of these tiny little miracles.
I think about when we were in the jail trying to get information out of a pill addict. I was at first shocked at how rude he was, a part of his personality I hadn't seen up to that point. Now it makes sense (I still have to lose some of the baby fat). All the suggestions, the different ways of doing things, the questions, the motives. When we were on the side of the highway, walking up to the stopped car, and he looks at me and tells me which way to go if he yells "jump". All the hours spent imparting knowledge, with the occasional corny as hell joke.
I will be lonely when it's over!
But I am ridiculously lucky. As if now I could ever deny His existence, after all of these tiny little miracles.
3.3.08
My teachers
I have been blessed with a wide and diverse array of mentors. It seems that the longer I'm around, the more doors open, the more people want to give me what they've picked up along the way. I am incredibly grateful. Here is some of the advice I've been given, thus far.
"Don't die."
"Make it through each shift with all your clothes."
"Don't get too anxious about taking on something new, all you have to do is bullshit and look like you know what you're doing till one of us gets there to back you up."
"Curiosity makes you a good cop."
"We are the biggest gang in the country."
"The single guys here are all man-whores. They're nice but if you were my sister, I'd tell you to stay away from each one of them."
"It's okay to walk away from something that gives you a hinky feeling if you can't figure it out."
"We don't catch the bad guys because we're smarter than they are; we catch them because they're dumber than us."
"Tell yourself at the beginning of each shift that you're not going to die today."
"If you're doing your job right, you'll be worn out but you'll be ready to go right back out and do it all again."
"Never sprint during a foot pursuit because you have to clean what you catch. Keep the bad guy in sight, eventually he'll stop running."
"One day you are going to really fuck something up. Know that it's coming, be able to learn from it, and move on. We've all been there."
"You are going to wreck a cruiser at some point."
"This job is mostly just knowing how and being able to talk to people. You were blessed with that talent and you should capitalize on it."
"Keep having fun."
"Ask for advice and help from the people you aspire to be like. We'll let you know if you're going to the wrong ones!"
"Stay on our side of the table."
"Keep learning, it keeps you young."
"Don't die."
"Make it through each shift with all your clothes."
"Don't get too anxious about taking on something new, all you have to do is bullshit and look like you know what you're doing till one of us gets there to back you up."
"Curiosity makes you a good cop."
"We are the biggest gang in the country."
"The single guys here are all man-whores. They're nice but if you were my sister, I'd tell you to stay away from each one of them."
"It's okay to walk away from something that gives you a hinky feeling if you can't figure it out."
"We don't catch the bad guys because we're smarter than they are; we catch them because they're dumber than us."
"Tell yourself at the beginning of each shift that you're not going to die today."
"If you're doing your job right, you'll be worn out but you'll be ready to go right back out and do it all again."
"Never sprint during a foot pursuit because you have to clean what you catch. Keep the bad guy in sight, eventually he'll stop running."
"One day you are going to really fuck something up. Know that it's coming, be able to learn from it, and move on. We've all been there."
"You are going to wreck a cruiser at some point."
"This job is mostly just knowing how and being able to talk to people. You were blessed with that talent and you should capitalize on it."
"Keep having fun."
"Ask for advice and help from the people you aspire to be like. We'll let you know if you're going to the wrong ones!"
"Stay on our side of the table."
"Keep learning, it keeps you young."
1.3.08
And so it goes
Preparing to leave and he hovers just outside of my personal space, telling me I should compete because I'd blow all the other females away. Tells me with my strength, endurance and shooting skill I'd win something for sure, most likely a gun. He keeps talking but the words stop reaching me. I'm looking at the photo of me and mom and dad at the academy, and thinking about how many times I've beaten him already. I am so much more than a couple of tits, some hips and the lack of a penis.
I wish I could take the preconceived out from under his feet, but I know that I can't. So I stop listening, I pack up, pick up, and move on.
Then out in the hallway and guys who aren't even on my shift are joking around with me, everyone doing their part to make me feel like one of the fold. We are sheepdogs, you remember.
I get words of support over the airwaves as I'm driving home down a sunny stretch of road, and yet even more encouragement (in the form of junior high teasing) once I've reached my door. There's just a couple of bad apples, and I've noticed most of the guys scooping me up in their wings and flying me away when I get too close to the rotten fruit.
And I wouldn't be happy any other way. This is why I signed on, this is why Emily said fuck you to doubt and became OFD's newest member. The brotherhood can make a joke of even the most cutting (and unjust) of criticisms. You're never really alone, and that's a rare thing these days.
*************************************
Your goals for the future, what you want and how you will take it. Remember that kid who was standing in a darkened parking lot of I-70 that September morning. There is a place that you can go to that no one understands, there is a place with limitless strength, yours for the taking. Never let yourself forget how you felt when they said your name. The pride you had associated with it, the strength it bore through those halls. Keep doing what you're doing, you have nothing but potential. (MLE this goes for you just the same. The only thing that gets in your way is doubt. Make it submit to your will and there will be nothing out of reach.)
I wish I could take the preconceived out from under his feet, but I know that I can't. So I stop listening, I pack up, pick up, and move on.
Then out in the hallway and guys who aren't even on my shift are joking around with me, everyone doing their part to make me feel like one of the fold. We are sheepdogs, you remember.
I get words of support over the airwaves as I'm driving home down a sunny stretch of road, and yet even more encouragement (in the form of junior high teasing) once I've reached my door. There's just a couple of bad apples, and I've noticed most of the guys scooping me up in their wings and flying me away when I get too close to the rotten fruit.
And I wouldn't be happy any other way. This is why I signed on, this is why Emily said fuck you to doubt and became OFD's newest member. The brotherhood can make a joke of even the most cutting (and unjust) of criticisms. You're never really alone, and that's a rare thing these days.
*************************************
Your goals for the future, what you want and how you will take it. Remember that kid who was standing in a darkened parking lot of I-70 that September morning. There is a place that you can go to that no one understands, there is a place with limitless strength, yours for the taking. Never let yourself forget how you felt when they said your name. The pride you had associated with it, the strength it bore through those halls. Keep doing what you're doing, you have nothing but potential. (MLE this goes for you just the same. The only thing that gets in your way is doubt. Make it submit to your will and there will be nothing out of reach.)
25.2.08
Pater Noster
You try to do what's right. A lot of the time I find that I'm in some nether-reality in my mind, almost like I'm a third-party observing from above and behind. I reach for the the switch to activate the lights, I grab the mic and call out, I position, I approach, I knock, I question. All as if on auto-pilot. But not in a way that tends towards apathy or disconnection -- it's more like there is a conscious delay in the synapses so that I might have a moment to reflect and consider while surveying the contents of a car (the movement of hands), or beginning a new line of questioning. A crescendo building up to the end game, one must be careful in its orchestration.
And it's funny, while I'm driving now I find myself reciting words that I thought I gave up on in high school, Our Father which art in Heaven, Hallowed be thy name. Thy kingdom come. Thy will be done, as in Heaven, so in earth. Give us day by day our daily bread. And forgive us our sins; for we also forgive every one that is indebted to us. And lead us not into temptation; but deliver us from evil. For thine is the Kingdom, the Power and the Glory, forever and ever. Amen. I envision St. Michael just behind the cage, riding with me everywhere, sword always at the ready. Likewise, the spirit and strength of all my relatives (departed and not) fastened to me like another tool on my bat-belt.
And as often as I can, I give thanks. Today for a kindred spirit who has made it his mission to look out for me, to create experience for me while I am still cloistered. That he defends and sticks up for me more than, perhaps, I do for myself. I think about it sometimes and marvel at how lucky I am to have such an ally already.
Then today, at the hospital, I found myself reciting Hail Mary, full of grace... over and over for the blood-soaked and bruised woman I was questioning. I thought of the story of Mary Magdalene and how the most important thing to a meaningful life is devotion. And how fascinating that the lack of a belief system can really fuck a person up. When you worship yourself, your possessions, and your habit, how quickly everything around you dissolves, crumbles, evaporates.
The lesson is to work hard, earn what you have, but give thanks along the way. No one is entitled to anything. The most fucked up people that I encounter always say that they are owed something. You're not. Suck it up and make something of this life.
And it's funny, while I'm driving now I find myself reciting words that I thought I gave up on in high school, Our Father which art in Heaven, Hallowed be thy name. Thy kingdom come. Thy will be done, as in Heaven, so in earth. Give us day by day our daily bread. And forgive us our sins; for we also forgive every one that is indebted to us. And lead us not into temptation; but deliver us from evil. For thine is the Kingdom, the Power and the Glory, forever and ever. Amen. I envision St. Michael just behind the cage, riding with me everywhere, sword always at the ready. Likewise, the spirit and strength of all my relatives (departed and not) fastened to me like another tool on my bat-belt.
And as often as I can, I give thanks. Today for a kindred spirit who has made it his mission to look out for me, to create experience for me while I am still cloistered. That he defends and sticks up for me more than, perhaps, I do for myself. I think about it sometimes and marvel at how lucky I am to have such an ally already.
Then today, at the hospital, I found myself reciting Hail Mary, full of grace... over and over for the blood-soaked and bruised woman I was questioning. I thought of the story of Mary Magdalene and how the most important thing to a meaningful life is devotion. And how fascinating that the lack of a belief system can really fuck a person up. When you worship yourself, your possessions, and your habit, how quickly everything around you dissolves, crumbles, evaporates.
The lesson is to work hard, earn what you have, but give thanks along the way. No one is entitled to anything. The most fucked up people that I encounter always say that they are owed something. You're not. Suck it up and make something of this life.
18.2.08
Jesus, Mary and Saint Joseph
I am not one to anger easily. I should qualify that. I am not generally set off by the trivial irritations of life. When Henry Rollins said life is fucking hard I knew, in my bones, he was right. Life is fucking hard. I am grateful for how much I've been given, and am proud of how far I've come because I worked my ass of to get here.
Yesterday brought anger like I haven't felt for, I can't remember how long. Even the troops in Columbus couldn't get to me the way he did yesterday. I walked back out to the cruiser, polyester soaked with rain that was coming in horizontally, cursing and fuming the whole way. John met my gaze with sympathy as I headed back out. I took everything out of the trunk. I completely removed the backseat. Flipped down the visors, I even looked in the glove box. I went back in, I'm sure my ears were glowing red, I was soaked, raging, and clenched in my fist the only thing I could find... a ticket that another officer had misplaced.
He looks at me through eyes barely visible beneath folds of skin and tells me that I found the wrong thing. John gives me a sideways glance. I go back outside, without waiting, and can hear his footfalls following me. He shows me, and when I tell him I'd never been shown to look there, he doesn't understand and tells me that I'm still responsible. At this point my ears were so hot that it was uncomfortable.
No one should be set up to fail. The adage is to teach a man how to fish, not to place him at the side of a river, screw with him, and then berate him for not catching anything when he doesn't even know what the fuck a fish is.
Much later a message from John broke the dam. Funny how that works. You tell yourself that you're strong, that this shit doesn't get to you, and in the end it's the caring, the love and support of your brothers that actually pokes through the armor. Goes to the place that you stockpile the insecurity and the weakness.
But thank God for him. And the others. The knowing looks, smiles, winks and secret conspiring conversations that help fill the idle time. And I guess, when I think about it, that's really why I signed up. If I could just take a step back from the flame, I would be amazed at how many allies I've already acquired.
But I can't remember ever having recited the Serenity Prayer so many times, silently, to myself.
Blessed Father, grant me the serenity
to accept the things I cannot change;
courage to change the things I can;
and wisdom to know the difference.
My new goal is to consistently beat him in activity each month. Shouldn't be hard. (So maybe I don't anger easily but damn am I cocky!)
Yesterday brought anger like I haven't felt for, I can't remember how long. Even the troops in Columbus couldn't get to me the way he did yesterday. I walked back out to the cruiser, polyester soaked with rain that was coming in horizontally, cursing and fuming the whole way. John met my gaze with sympathy as I headed back out. I took everything out of the trunk. I completely removed the backseat. Flipped down the visors, I even looked in the glove box. I went back in, I'm sure my ears were glowing red, I was soaked, raging, and clenched in my fist the only thing I could find... a ticket that another officer had misplaced.
He looks at me through eyes barely visible beneath folds of skin and tells me that I found the wrong thing. John gives me a sideways glance. I go back outside, without waiting, and can hear his footfalls following me. He shows me, and when I tell him I'd never been shown to look there, he doesn't understand and tells me that I'm still responsible. At this point my ears were so hot that it was uncomfortable.
No one should be set up to fail. The adage is to teach a man how to fish, not to place him at the side of a river, screw with him, and then berate him for not catching anything when he doesn't even know what the fuck a fish is.
Much later a message from John broke the dam. Funny how that works. You tell yourself that you're strong, that this shit doesn't get to you, and in the end it's the caring, the love and support of your brothers that actually pokes through the armor. Goes to the place that you stockpile the insecurity and the weakness.
But thank God for him. And the others. The knowing looks, smiles, winks and secret conspiring conversations that help fill the idle time. And I guess, when I think about it, that's really why I signed up. If I could just take a step back from the flame, I would be amazed at how many allies I've already acquired.
But I can't remember ever having recited the Serenity Prayer so many times, silently, to myself.
Blessed Father, grant me the serenity
to accept the things I cannot change;
courage to change the things I can;
and wisdom to know the difference.
My new goal is to consistently beat him in activity each month. Shouldn't be hard. (So maybe I don't anger easily but damn am I cocky!)
14.2.08
DOA and body found
He was one month older than me, to the day. Walking down to his room in the basement, I thought this was his world as I trudged down the steps, it smelled like shit and piss and old beer, stale cigarettes and unwashed clothes. His skin was jaundiced and pale. When the paramedics strapped him to the board his arms kept flopping off his paunch, like a suffocating fish. That's how we knew rigor hadn't set in, and also the first clue that he wouldn't be resuscitated.
The ghost lingered after the body was gone. There was vomit on the side of his pillow, a small stain, camouflaged by the spent epinephrine needles and AED wrappers. There was a violently loud stain on the couch where he was found, slumped over; the contents of his bladder, after the muscles stopped working. The coffee table was littered with empty beer bottles and cigarette ash, and his despondent cousin was still metabolizing whatever drug (or drugs) they had consumed together.
Eyes fixed and dilated.
We searched the basement for a reason why, as if God was waiting under some unturned cushion or pillow, and if we could only find Him, He'd tell us what had actually happened. Instead we found drugs, and pictures of a dearly departed girlfriend who had passed just four months previous. I think they call that motive. Or at least a reasonable suspicion of same. He had a shrine to her next to his bed.
I kept waiting for the emotion to kick in. A sense of loss, or reverence, or at least a quiet respect. But the accumulation of beer bottles and cigarette ash only served as a reminder that life should not be lived so destructively... as if it were an ever narrowing path to a finite end.
DB joked around with me and made PS grab my leg when I surveyed the closet. JD laughed and sighed and passed his judgment silently, as he always does. Not a one of us offered comfort to the anguished man upstairs or was very understanding when he cursed us as we left. All of us were playing our roles as if scripted. As if our feet were on tracks and we couldn't help but where they led us.
And the whole time I felt his ghost, hovering, just above my shoulders. Was this really my life? Is this really it, then? My God...
Bless me Father, for I have sinned...
The ghost lingered after the body was gone. There was vomit on the side of his pillow, a small stain, camouflaged by the spent epinephrine needles and AED wrappers. There was a violently loud stain on the couch where he was found, slumped over; the contents of his bladder, after the muscles stopped working. The coffee table was littered with empty beer bottles and cigarette ash, and his despondent cousin was still metabolizing whatever drug (or drugs) they had consumed together.
Eyes fixed and dilated.
We searched the basement for a reason why, as if God was waiting under some unturned cushion or pillow, and if we could only find Him, He'd tell us what had actually happened. Instead we found drugs, and pictures of a dearly departed girlfriend who had passed just four months previous. I think they call that motive. Or at least a reasonable suspicion of same. He had a shrine to her next to his bed.
I kept waiting for the emotion to kick in. A sense of loss, or reverence, or at least a quiet respect. But the accumulation of beer bottles and cigarette ash only served as a reminder that life should not be lived so destructively... as if it were an ever narrowing path to a finite end.
DB joked around with me and made PS grab my leg when I surveyed the closet. JD laughed and sighed and passed his judgment silently, as he always does. Not a one of us offered comfort to the anguished man upstairs or was very understanding when he cursed us as we left. All of us were playing our roles as if scripted. As if our feet were on tracks and we couldn't help but where they led us.
And the whole time I felt his ghost, hovering, just above my shoulders. Was this really my life? Is this really it, then? My God...
Bless me Father, for I have sinned...
3.2.08
As a law enforcement officer...
I've been on the road for nearly five weeks now, and the job is challenging, overwhelming at times, demanding, and ten-thousand times better than even the high expectations that I had for it. I love what I do. It feels right, it gives meaning to my life; I actually feel like I'm making the community better each time I call 10-8.
A few nights ago I stopped and arrested my first drunk driver. The guy was very cooperative, and failed each test miserably. He was so hammered that he couldn't remember where he was driving to pick up his 11 year old daughter. A cold shiver ran down my spine when I pieced it together that his young daughter was waiting for him about two blocks up the road. God knows what their fate would have been had I not noticed the equipment violation and decided to stop him for it.
It is an inconceivably thin line.
The other day I assisted on a domestic. The wife was so scared of the husband that she was visibly shaking as she gave us her account of what had happened. Fearful to take action because of the possible repercussion. He was an authoritarian to be reckoned with; his two dogs had the run of the house and used the living room as their litter box. The place reeked of animal waste, strange food and stale air. I remained after he was arrested and transported, to help with statements and the other necessary paperwork. As the women of the house were writing, I found myself praying silently, Blessed Father, watch over this household, take the fear from their hearts and fill it with Your love, with confidence, with strength. Blessed Father, give them the resolve to get out of this mess while they can. Watch over them as they do. As if I could cast some kind of forcefield around the house to keep the evil that had left from returning.
St. Michael, keep whispering in my ear and guiding my hands and feet. Help me get to where I'm needed most, show me how to do your work. Keep all of my brothers and sisters in blue safe as they call 10-8.
A few nights ago I stopped and arrested my first drunk driver. The guy was very cooperative, and failed each test miserably. He was so hammered that he couldn't remember where he was driving to pick up his 11 year old daughter. A cold shiver ran down my spine when I pieced it together that his young daughter was waiting for him about two blocks up the road. God knows what their fate would have been had I not noticed the equipment violation and decided to stop him for it.
It is an inconceivably thin line.
The other day I assisted on a domestic. The wife was so scared of the husband that she was visibly shaking as she gave us her account of what had happened. Fearful to take action because of the possible repercussion. He was an authoritarian to be reckoned with; his two dogs had the run of the house and used the living room as their litter box. The place reeked of animal waste, strange food and stale air. I remained after he was arrested and transported, to help with statements and the other necessary paperwork. As the women of the house were writing, I found myself praying silently, Blessed Father, watch over this household, take the fear from their hearts and fill it with Your love, with confidence, with strength. Blessed Father, give them the resolve to get out of this mess while they can. Watch over them as they do. As if I could cast some kind of forcefield around the house to keep the evil that had left from returning.
St. Michael, keep whispering in my ear and guiding my hands and feet. Help me get to where I'm needed most, show me how to do your work. Keep all of my brothers and sisters in blue safe as they call 10-8.
16.12.07
9.12.07
12 days and a wake up!
I remember the night before the first day. Getting into my car in the driveway on Pleasant Street, I wore my sunglasses so that they couldn't see me crying. They knew anyway. The thing that killed me was hugging MLE -- like the last piece of safety before marching off to death.
It brings back snapshots of the half-boy story that Rudd used to tell us in class. How many times in this life do we cleave ourselves, only to find a better, stronger addition that is truer to what remains than what was cast off.
I don't know now if the change occurred gradually over weeks, or if it was like thunder and lightning and when I woke up that first morning it was to a new spirit. Sometimes overwhelming to think about. There is no point in writing because the words would cloud the simplicity of what I'm taking away from that place: the only thing that is stopping you is your mind. So cliche and common, but amazing in its accuracy. And you'll know it when you experience it -- and I hope that you do.
There is no time for insecurity. No second-guessing or doubt. Around the hill? No way! Over the hill? No way! Through the hill? My way! Through the hill? All day! Lead or follow, there is no way you'll fail if that's what you've decided.
It brings back snapshots of the half-boy story that Rudd used to tell us in class. How many times in this life do we cleave ourselves, only to find a better, stronger addition that is truer to what remains than what was cast off.
I don't know now if the change occurred gradually over weeks, or if it was like thunder and lightning and when I woke up that first morning it was to a new spirit. Sometimes overwhelming to think about. There is no point in writing because the words would cloud the simplicity of what I'm taking away from that place: the only thing that is stopping you is your mind. So cliche and common, but amazing in its accuracy. And you'll know it when you experience it -- and I hope that you do.
There is no time for insecurity. No second-guessing or doubt. Around the hill? No way! Over the hill? No way! Through the hill? My way! Through the hill? All day! Lead or follow, there is no way you'll fail if that's what you've decided.
25.11.07
Nothing without my family.
I pray that I didn't worry you because it was not my intent; I am like that dog who barks in the night at the tree-branch scraping against the window. Sometimes my alarms are entirely unwarranted.
Listen: now is not the time to back down. This is when they'd like for your insecurity and self-doubt to creep in but you absolutely cannot let that happen. Four weeks. A month! It is nothing. A month ago was Halloween, how quickly the time from then to now passed. It will be over and done with before you can even wake up from this lucid dream. Surface for a moment, draw in a deep breath and dive. You can do this because you have already decided that you will.
The amount of strength and support that you can draw from is unthinkable. Everyone should be so lucky, so loved. Each moment that you sit idle, remember the place that your heart resides, go back to your home in your mind and be renewed. Don't lose sight of where you come from, and where you will be returning.
You are the support of so many, remember that. They will look to you when they're wavering. You cannot look weak, insecure, doubtful. Keep your chin up. Unchain that lion who resides in your heart. Lead your people to the finish with a loud and resounding roar.
Send me strength and I will come back to you all like Leonidas. Tempered by the fires of hell and with an indomitable spirit from St. Peter himself.
Listen: now is not the time to back down. This is when they'd like for your insecurity and self-doubt to creep in but you absolutely cannot let that happen. Four weeks. A month! It is nothing. A month ago was Halloween, how quickly the time from then to now passed. It will be over and done with before you can even wake up from this lucid dream. Surface for a moment, draw in a deep breath and dive. You can do this because you have already decided that you will.
The amount of strength and support that you can draw from is unthinkable. Everyone should be so lucky, so loved. Each moment that you sit idle, remember the place that your heart resides, go back to your home in your mind and be renewed. Don't lose sight of where you come from, and where you will be returning.
You are the support of so many, remember that. They will look to you when they're wavering. You cannot look weak, insecure, doubtful. Keep your chin up. Unchain that lion who resides in your heart. Lead your people to the finish with a loud and resounding roar.
Send me strength and I will come back to you all like Leonidas. Tempered by the fires of hell and with an indomitable spirit from St. Peter himself.
28.10.07
The strength of my armor.
Cracks that let the emotion through, the baggage I don't want to own anymore. It's a constant emergency weld, a steeling of the flesh. I am a brick-mason, I never sleep. I spend each moment applying mortar to the weak spots. I cannot allow any flaw in the foundation. This early morning on the drive in I will stop at the nearest bridge and fling that luggage into the watery depths below. It cannot weigh on me anymore.
It was a choice I had to make awhile back, and for the most part I think I made it subconsciously. Not that I didn't think about it; it was just something that I knew I had to do, like taking in the next breath, or waking from sleep. It is not something that one considers greatly. There is a code that each warrior adopts, and it leaves no room for vacillation or second-guessing. Or outward softness. Each footfall is made forward, that is just how it is. You either understand, or you are in the way. That is cold, harsh, cutting, but it really can't be any other way.
When someone opens fire, everyone else will run away but I have made the choice to run forward. When people are fighting, I will be the one to dive into the melee, while you sit on the fringe with your cell phone camera, snapping away. On Christmas Eve when you are snug in front of a fire with your family, I will be lurking, waiting, watching. I understand why. I know why I made the choice that I did. But I don't think that you ever will, and it's not something that I'll be able to explain to you.
Good-bye, good luck. May you find something to give your life meaning. May you one day understand what it is to hear the call to serve and be unable to say no.
It was a choice I had to make awhile back, and for the most part I think I made it subconsciously. Not that I didn't think about it; it was just something that I knew I had to do, like taking in the next breath, or waking from sleep. It is not something that one considers greatly. There is a code that each warrior adopts, and it leaves no room for vacillation or second-guessing. Or outward softness. Each footfall is made forward, that is just how it is. You either understand, or you are in the way. That is cold, harsh, cutting, but it really can't be any other way.
When someone opens fire, everyone else will run away but I have made the choice to run forward. When people are fighting, I will be the one to dive into the melee, while you sit on the fringe with your cell phone camera, snapping away. On Christmas Eve when you are snug in front of a fire with your family, I will be lurking, waiting, watching. I understand why. I know why I made the choice that I did. But I don't think that you ever will, and it's not something that I'll be able to explain to you.
Good-bye, good luck. May you find something to give your life meaning. May you one day understand what it is to hear the call to serve and be unable to say no.
14.10.07
At night, under my breath.
Blessed Father, watch over my family in my absence. Let them know that their love and support reaches me even in the farthest corners of darkness. Keep them from harm and tell them that I get through the week only to see them again.
Help me keep my head up. Give me your strength when mine wavers. Make my voice strong and resolute so that I can be a confident leader and keep everyone moving forward. Help me to remember that this life is perfect and that I am walking a noble path. Help me to remember that I am a warrior and that there is nothing that can stop me.
In the morning remind me that I am lucky.
Help me keep my head up. Give me your strength when mine wavers. Make my voice strong and resolute so that I can be a confident leader and keep everyone moving forward. Help me to remember that this life is perfect and that I am walking a noble path. Help me to remember that I am a warrior and that there is nothing that can stop me.
In the morning remind me that I am lucky.
8.10.07
Orion is with us.
Can I be like Leonidas and keep my stubborn sense of humor, keep the fire in my belly burning white hot? Can I lead people through places they do not want to go with a smile on my face and the unwavering determination that we will not be defeated? When I tell them that we cannot fail, that we can never stop, will they believe me?
That dark morning when I cast my stones to fate I was somewhere else, mentally. The skies were September blue, and a long country road climbed steadily to the horizon, weaving through golden corn fields peppered with brightly colored barns and farmhouses like a black snake. When he asked me if I was in another place, it took me a few seconds to tear myself away and reply, yes. The rush of traffic on I-71 and the grittiness of the empty parking lot made the present so stark, in comparison.
The key will be to have all twenty-nine of us standing sentinel on that same stretch of country road. To somehow have everyone understand that there is no way they can touch us. All they can do is yell, which has become comical, or PT us, which makes us stronger. We own that place.
That dark morning when I cast my stones to fate I was somewhere else, mentally. The skies were September blue, and a long country road climbed steadily to the horizon, weaving through golden corn fields peppered with brightly colored barns and farmhouses like a black snake. When he asked me if I was in another place, it took me a few seconds to tear myself away and reply, yes. The rush of traffic on I-71 and the grittiness of the empty parking lot made the present so stark, in comparison.
The key will be to have all twenty-nine of us standing sentinel on that same stretch of country road. To somehow have everyone understand that there is no way they can touch us. All they can do is yell, which has become comical, or PT us, which makes us stronger. We own that place.
3.9.07
Sing loud, sing proud!
You are the reason that I can make it. You all are. It is like when we were kids and mom and dad would go on a trip without us, and mom would tell us that there are invisible strands that connect us to each other, no matter how great the distance. This whole time, she was right.
At 0620 in a still dark parking lot with the troopers screaming at us over the deafening roar of I-71's morning commute, you are the reason that I do not shake. The thought of returning to a family which contains more love and support than most people will know in their lifetime keeps my arms unbendable, keeps me aloft like a stone cut-out of determination. They cannot form the syllables of my last name with their usual mockery because all of you stand in the way.
I am one of something that they will never be able to break.
At 0620 in a still dark parking lot with the troopers screaming at us over the deafening roar of I-71's morning commute, you are the reason that I do not shake. The thought of returning to a family which contains more love and support than most people will know in their lifetime keeps my arms unbendable, keeps me aloft like a stone cut-out of determination. They cannot form the syllables of my last name with their usual mockery because all of you stand in the way.
I am one of something that they will never be able to break.
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