"The Final Inspection"

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 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 awful 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 judgment 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."

~ Author Unknown ~

What Are Policemen Made Of?

A Policeman is a composition of what all men are, a mingling of saint and sinner, dust and deiry. Less than one half of one percent of policemen misfit the uniform.

He, of all men, is at once the most wanted and the most unwanted. He must be such a diplomat that he can settle differences between individuals so that each will think he won.

But, if a policeman is pleasant, he's a flirt; if he's not he's a grouch. He must be able to start breathing, stop bleeding, tie splints, and above all be sure the victim goes home without a limp - or expect to be sued. He 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 damaging his uniform and without being "brutal". If you hit him, he's a coward; if he hits you, he's a bully. He must know where all the sin is and not partake. The policemen must chase bum leads to a dead end, stake out 10 nights to tag one witness who saw it happen - but refused to remember.

~ Author Unknown ~

A Police officer's Prayer

Lord, I ask for courage -
Courage to face and Conquer my own fears...
Courage to take me Where others will not go

I ask for strength -
Strength of body to protect others.
And strength of spirit to lead others...

I ask for dedication -
Dedication to my job, to do it well,
Dedication to my community,
To keep it safe...

And please, Lord, through it all…
Be by my side.

~ Stephen A. Faulkner ~

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.

~ Author Unknown ~

I'M JUST A PERSON LIKE YOU.

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 on
The person you cast your scorn upon
The person you bring your troubles to
All these thing I have been to you.

The person you ask to stand apart
The person you feel should have no heart
The person you call "the one in blue"
But I'm just a person, just like you.

Through the years I've come to see
That I'm not what you expect 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 you can be
All these things you ask of me?

~ Author Unknown ~

Me, The lousy Cop

Well, Mr. Citizen, I guess you've got me all figured out. I seem to fit neatly into the category you placed me in. I'm stereotyped, standardized, classified, grouped and always typical ... I'm the "Lousy Cop." Unfortunately, the reverse isn't true because I can never figure you out. From birth, you teach your children that I'm the bogeyman who will take them to jail if they are bad, rather than someone to go to when they need help, 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 wrong. Then, I must surely be mistaken because you know that your child would never do anything like that. Yeah, right, I have nothing I'd rather do than make up a story about your child and then have to hassle with hours of paperwork so a judge can let him go before I am through. You make 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 meal with your troubles.

You raise hell about the guy that cut you off in traffic, but let me catch you doing the same thing, and I am picking on you and should be out there catching the real criminals. You were only keeping up with traffic when I caught you doing 40 mph in that school zone. You know all the traffic laws, But you never got a single ticket you deserved. You cry "foul" if you see me driving fast in route to an emergency call, but literally raise hell if I take more than 10 seconds responding to your call. You call it part of my job if someone strikes me, but it's police brutality if I strike back.

You wouldn't think of telling a dentist how to pull a badly decayed tooth, or your doctor how to remove your appendix, but you are always willing to give me a few pointers on law enforcement, in which you have absolutely no training.

You talk to me in a manner and use language that is offensive, then expect me to stand there and take it without batting an eye. You cry that something has to be done about all the crimes, but you can't be bothered with getting involved. So when you call the police, you refuse to give your name or address or phone number so I can gather information necessary to do anything about the problem you called about. Then you complain because I didn't do anything.

You've got no use for me at all, but of course, it's okay if I stop and change a tire for your wife or deliver your child in the backseat of my patrol car on the way to the hospital. Or it's okay if I save your son's life with mouth to mouth resuscitation, or maybe work many hours overtime to find your lost daughter while my wife and kids wait for me or miss the concert we had tickets for.

So, Mr. Citizen, you stand there on your soapbox and rant and rave about the way I do my job. You gripe because my union tries to make sure I get a decent salary and benefits, but you wouldn't do the job for twice the salary. And although you are retired and drawing two pensions and paying lower taxes than I do because of your age, I am not supposed to want or need a pension or retirement benefits.

You call me every name in the book, but never stop for a minute to think that your property, your family, or maybe your life might depend on one person... me or one of my buddies. Who are you going to call when you need help ... a criminal or me, the lousy cop.

~
The author of this article was
Trooper Mitchell Brown of the Virginia State Police.
He was killed in the line of duty two months after writing the article.
~

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