Two events occurred in my life Sunday evening that were the kind of events that cause a lot of questions. One was the feel good kind. The kind that makes you sit still and realize that there are people in this world who have God given talents that change the world. The other event was the kind of event that makes you realize there are people in this world who are just the opposite. They have something, I wouldn't call gifts, that do something that changes the world and makes you sit still and realize that there is truly evil in this world. What a conundrum. I, of all people know there are some really sick people in this world. But I guess after having been through all we have over the last several months, I have become more acutely aware of both the bad and good things that go on in this world.



The first was the good one. It was the Rock and Roll Hall of Fame 25th anniversary concert. I know what some of you Baptist's are thinking, rock and roll. I know, but the thing was I listened to some of the best musical artist's in the world. U2, Bruce Springsteen, Crosby Stills and Nash, James Taylor, Stevie Wonder. It was amazing. And during the middle of Simon and Garfunkel, my wife brought up the point that music just isn't what it used to be. What followed was a conversation about how music today just has no substance or meaning. What has happened? I know that during their time young men were being drafted and sent to a war that was killing them in record numbers. They wrote songs that had substance and meaning. Agree or not, they wrote about things going on in the world. And the music itself, no comparison to today's music. They had to be able to sing and play music. They did not have all the computers to "clean up" their voices, nothing to help their albums sound better. They could do it all, write it, play it, sing it. Today, most musicians sound terrible in person. It's all about the looks, the shows, the money. And I would venture to say that most of today's rock stars wouldn't have the first clue how to write a song or play an instrument. Thank goodness there are still a few around who can do those things. Music is important to me. I am not sure how to put my finger on it, but music is nourishment, peace, and many other things. I may not always be in the mood for the same kind of music, but I can always count on finding the music I want, when I want it. It helps me cry when I need to cry, laugh when I need to laugh, be still when I need to be still, and sing when I want to sing. Probably why it was said, "Make a joyful noise to the Lord".

The second event was the horrific tragedy in the state of Washington. I am sure all of you have heard by now that four Police Officers were murdered in coffee shop on Sunday morning. Three men and one woman gave the ultimate sacrifice. This event really hit home with me. Most of them were around my age. They were fathers, mothers, sons, daughters, brothers, sisters, friends, co-workers, and brothers and sisters to all of us in law enforcement. We are a very, very tight knit group. We take care of one another. Never have I seen that more than in our life over the last several months. I won't go into great detail now, I will save it for another blog, but the men and women of the Owasso and Collinsville Police Departments have been incredible. Even my mom has said several times she cannot believe how tight we are and how we take care of each other. I am now going to get on my proverbial soap box. I think sometimes it is forgotten what Police Officers do on a daily basis. I understand that it is easy to do. I know as Police Officers, we are looked upon as ticket writers, men and women who are a necessary evil. I get it. I, like everyone else, still get that sinking feeling when you look in your rear view mirror and see the cop car behind you. And I do it for a living! Ours is a thankless job. Not a thinkless, a thankless job. When we are called it is usually when people are not at their best. We are called when grown ups cannot solve their own problems. We are marriage counselors, babysitters, mediators, and report takers. We are usually the ones who tell families they have lost a loved one. We respond to and investigate domestic violence, child abuse, shootings, homicides, sex crimes, and barking dogs. We deal with drug users who cannot take care of their own kids. I am part of the Tulsa County District Attorney's Task Force on crimes against children. You can only imagine what we deal with. We see and deal with things most people couldn't deal with. I still have nightmares from time to time about some of the things I have seen. Ever been at the grocery store with your wife and have a person, who you arrested two nights before, follow you around while you are shopping? Ever had someone you have arrested knock on you front door? I have, both. Ever had someone tell you when they get out of prison they are going to find you and kill you? Yep several times. And then there are those who will be the first to file a complaint on us for driving to fast to a call, but then will complain on us when they call and we don't get there fast enough. They want us to arrest someone else for something we can't arrest them for, but when they or a family member do something we have to arrest them for, they fight us. And finally, we as Officers, know every time we put on our uniform and go to work, it could be the last time we see our families. Part of our oath of office is we will lay down our life to protect our citizens. And if need be, we will, with honor. And we do it all with very little pay. Most of us have to work part-time jobs just to get by. My families hearts and prayers go out to the family, friends and co-workers of the fallen Officers. The ultimate sacrifice. I cannot imagine the pain they are feeling right now. I will get off my soap box now. I have spoken my peace, if you will. If you see a Police Officer today, thank them for what they do, buy them a cup of coffee, let them know you appreciate what they do. The last two months has renewed my desire to be a cop. I want to go back and be the best I can. It's one of those core changes I hope I don't ever loose again.

Paul Harvey said it well:

The Policeman

What is a Policeman? By Paul Harvey

A policeman is a composite of what all men are I guess, a mingling of saint and sinner, dust and diety. Culled statistics wave the banners over stinkers, underscore instances of dishonesty and brutality because they are news. What that really means is that they are exceptional, they are unusual, they are not commonplace. Buried under the froth are the facts and the fact is less than one-half of one percent misfit that uniform and that is a better percentage than what you'd find among clergymen. What is a policeman? He of all men is at once the most needed and the most wanted; a strangely nameless creature who is "Sir" to his face, "pig" or worse behind his back. He must be such a diplomat that he can settle differences among individuals so that each will think he won. If a policeman is neat, he's conceited. If he's careless, he's a bum. If he's pleasant, he's a flirt. If he's not, he's a grouch. He must make instant decisions that would require months for a lawyer. But if he hurries, he's careless -if he's deliberate, he's lazy. He must be first to an accident and infallible with a diagnosis. He must be able to start breathing, stop bleeding, tie splints and, above all, be sure the victim goes home without a limp. Or, he must expect to be sued. The police officer must know every gun, draw on the run and hit where it doesn't hurt. He must be able to whip two men twice his size and half his age without soiling his uniform and without being "brutal". If you hit him, he's a coward - if he hits you, he's a bully. A policeman must know everything and not tell. He must know where all the sin is and not partake. The policeman must, from a single human hair, be able to describe the crime, the weapon, the criminal, and tell you where the criminal is hiding. But if he catches the criminal, he's lucky; if he doesn't, he's a dunce.If he gets promoted, he has political pull. If he doesn't, he's a dullard. The policeman must chase bum leads to dead ends, stakeout 10 nights to tag one witness who saw it happen but refuses to remember. He runs files and writes reports until his eyes ache to build a case against some felon who'd get dealt out by a shameless shamus or an honorable who isn't honorable. The policeman must be a minister, a social worker, a diplomat, a tough guy, and, of course, a genius, for he has to feed a family on a policeman's salary.

(Paul Harvey's own father was a policeman, who was killed by a bootlegger on Christmas Eve when Paul was a little boy.)