I talked to two cops tonight for a little while. They’re young men, in their early 30s. One was a Marine before joining the police force. (Which police force doesn’t matter.)
They told me some stories about the things they see. The bad things.
“We showed up and he [refering to the other cop] started doing life support on a seventeen-year-old with gun shot wound in his head. Gang banger.”
They talked about some of the details, then closed out the story.
“He died. That man [pointing to his partner] was the last person to touch him. Trying to save his life.”
One more detail.
“His mom [the victim's] was there. She was giving the kid mouth to mouth when we got there.”
Why is this important?
Because my luggage was late today at the carousel at the airport. And our flight was a few minutes late. And Starbucks wouldn’t honor my iPhone app gift card. And I complained about the cruelty of the world.
Then God and the universe conspired to say, “Really?”
It gets better. If you don’t believe me, just talk to a cop.
Posted on February 13, 2012
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