This just says it all

Discussion in 'Cop Talk' started by 05wrxfl, Mar 24, 2010.

  1. 05wrxfl

    05wrxfl 10-15 master

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    Feb 14, 2006
    Author: Unknown Police Officer

    ·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 do. The label 'police officer' 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. It's preserving that buffer
    that exists in the space between what you think the world is, and what the
    world really is.

    My job isn't like television. The action is less frequent, and more graphic.
    It is not exhilarating to point a gun at someone. 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
    grandmother's ribs break while I keep her heart beating. I'm not 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
    I don't tell you about my day because I don't want to share the images that
    haunt me.

    But I do have some confessions to make:

    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. Beethoven's 9th symphony
    erases the sight of the nurses who sobbed as they scrubbed layers of dirt
    and slime from a neglected 2-year-old's skin. The Rolling Stones' angry
    beat assures me that it was ignorance that drove a young mother to draw
    blood when she bit her toddler on the cheek in an attempt to teach him not to

    Sometimes I set a bad example. I exceeded the speed limit on my way home
    from work because I had trouble shedding the adrenaline that kicked in
    when I discovered that the man I handcuffed during a drug raid was sitting
    on a loaded 9mm pistol.

    Sometimes I seem rude. I was distracted and forgot to smile when you
    greeted me in the store because I was remembering the anguished, whispered
    confession of a teenager who pushed away his drowning brother 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 bedroom.

    I was terse on the phone because I resented the burden of having to weigh
    the value of two lives when I was pointing my gun at an armed man who kept
    begging me to kill him. I laugh when you cringe away from the mess in your
    teens room because I know the revulsion of feeling a heroin addict's blood
    trickling toward an open cut on my arm.

    If I was silent when you whined about your overbearing mother it's because
    I really wanted to tell you that I spoke to one of our high school friends
    today. I found her mother slumped behind the wheel of her car in a tightly
    closed garage. She had dressed in her best outfit before rolling down the
    windows and starting the engine.

    On the other hand, if I seem totally oblivious to the blood on my uniform,
    or the names people call me, or the hateful editorials, it's because I am
    remembering the lessons my job has taught me.

    I learned not to sweat the small stuff. Grape juice on the beige sofa and
    puppy pee on the oriental carpet don't faze me because I know what
    arterial bleeding and decaying bodies can do to one's decor.

    I learned when to shut out the world and take a mental health day. I
    skipped your daughter's 4th birthday party because I was thinking about the
    six children under the age of 10 whose mother left them unattended to go out
    with a friend. When the 3-year-old offered the dog the milk from her
    cereal bowl, the dog attacked her, tearing open her head and staining the
    sandbox with blood. The little girl's siblings had to pry her head out of the dog's
    jaws - twice.

    I learned that everyone has a lesson to teach me. Two mothers engaged in
    custody battles taught me not to judge a book by its cover. The teenage
    mother on welfare mustered the strength to refrain from crying in front of
    her worried child while the well-dressed, upper-class mother literally
    played tug of war with her toddler before running into traffic with the
    shrieking child in her arms.

    I learned that nothing given from the heart is truly gone. A hug, a smile, a
    reassuring word, or an attentive ear can bring an injured or distraught
    person back to the surface, and help me refocus.

    And I learned not to give up EVER! That split second of terror when I
    think I have finally engaged the one who is young enough and strong enough
    to take me down taught me that I have only one restriction: my own mortality.

    One week in May has been set aside as Police Memorial Week, a time to
    remember those officers who didn't make it home after their shift. But why
    wait? Take a moment to tell an officer that you appreciate their work.
    Smile and say 'Hi' when he's getting coffee.

    Bite your tongue when you start to tell a 'bad cop' story. Better yet,
    find the time to tell a 'good cop' story. The family at the next table may
    be a cop's family.

    Nothing given from the heart is truly gone. It is kept in the hearts of the
    recipients. Give from the heart.

    Give something back to the officers who risk everything they have.

    'Loyalty above all else, except honor...'
  2. DustyJacket

    DustyJacket Directiv 10-289

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    Oct 16, 2008
    Missouri, East of KC
    Once you have done the job for a few year, you are forever changed. No matter what you do later in life.

  3. PuroMexicano

    PuroMexicano VIVA MEXICO !!!

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    Jan 28, 2004
    Monterrey, Mexico

    SPDSNYPR Zippy's Friend.

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    Jun 12, 2006
    OK, USA
    Thanks for that. I've never seen it before. :thumbsup:
  5. VHT


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    Jul 18, 2007
    South of Heaven...
    Very, very good.... Thank you sir...
  6. rookie1


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    Mar 3, 2009
  7. Hack

    Hack Crazy CO Gold Member

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    Mar 21, 2005
    Kansas, near the bison.
    Excellent read. It makes one appreciate all the more the sacrifice put forth by our men and women in law enforcement on the streets and highways of this nation. It is a sacrifice. One the general public will never understand.
  8. lawman800

    lawman800 Juris Glocktor

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    Apr 3, 2002
    It just keeps getting better, don't it?
    I read something similar but not exactly the same, thanks.
  9. badlands99


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    Mar 19, 2009
    This is very helpful to me.
    I've got to admit that I've had to remind myself to "give him a pass" when I've seen or heard something from an officer that I didn't like. Now I have a better idea as to WHY I tend to instantly forgive. I just couldn't articulate it previously. I'm keeping this on my computer for reference.

    Thanks to 05wrxfl for the post, and thanks to all of you sheepdogs out there.
  10. glock192327

    glock192327 Where is eye

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    Apr 4, 2009
    Roughly 35 North by 81 West

    Outstanding paragraph on survival. That is good.

    "Hi, and thank you".