To Serve and Protect…

I’ll start by saying I am not a Police Officer. Never have been and I’m 100% sure I never will be. I have never been married or involved with anyone in law enforcement and who the heck knows if I ever will be. But I can tell you this… when news broke on Friday morning of the shooting in Taylor of a young officer, I had a flood of emotions. As the news came of Corporal Matthew Edwards passing those emotions intensified.

As a kid growing up in the suburbs of Chicago in the 60’s and 70’s, we were taught that police were there to help you. They were in place to be sure we were all obeying the rules and regulations we, as a society had decided we wanted enforced. I remember a time when I was playing at my grade school with my friend Barbara. We were maybe in 4th or 5th grade. It was a Saturday I believe, so the normally packed play ground was deserted. As we slid down the slide or dangled on the Monkey Bars... a man approached us and asked if we would help him find his puppy. We followed him around the playground for a bit and then he headed toward the forest just past the baseball fields. We followed him as well. At one point just before entering the woods, we decided we were bored or hungry or something and turned and walked away. There was no mad chase scene with us narrowly escaping the grasp of this would be kidnapper or a fearful get away that left us breathless. We simply walked back to our bikes and headed for home. As we rode down the middle of the street laughing about what had just happened, a police car came up alongside us. The officer asked us if we would please remember to stay on the side of the road. No reprimand or stopping us and giving us a good talking too, although either would have been in order. He just wanted us to be safe. He cared about us and because this was the way we had always known cops to be, we felt protected. He then asked how our day had been… I know in my heart that had he not already gained our trust, we would never have mentioned the “man with the lost puppy” incident. But we stopped and told him all about it. He listened and nodded and smiled and most importantly, he believed us. He asked us questions and we answered. He never changed his emotions and as I think back on it, his calm set the tone for our reaction to the events that followed. He asked our names and told us to head home and let our parents know what had happened. There was no panic in his voice and of course, he told us to be good girls. Months later we were asked to come to the Police Department and take part in a line up. Another girl had been approached by a man asking if she would help him find his puppy. While I don’t know firsthand, I was lead, much later in life to believe this girl did not walk away as Barbara and I had. The officer who had first been given our story met my mom and me at the door. The Police Chief, a lifelong friend of my parents was there too. I remember thinking my mom seemed nervous. She had smoked more cigarettes on the way to the police station than the short ride would normally allow. Standing in the room and looking though the glass at the men standing in line I was sure I knew who it was… number 2. The officer asked if I was sure and I’m sure I said I was. Outside in the lobby Barbara and her mom were there. Barbara had viewed and made her selection just before I did. We were asked not to discuss the men. Frankly it never ever came up again. Well that’s not actually true. A few months later, I understand there was a trial and the guy was found guilty of whatever he had been charged with. I overheard the Police Chief telling my mom that the positive ID they had received really helped solve the case. Fortunately Barbara chose number 3, the actual “guy with the lost puppy”. My pick #2 was in the head of the water department and had no connection to the case other than being at the Police Department on the day of the lineup.

When I awoke to find my husband struggling to breath and I called 911, it was a police officer who arrived first. As emergency personal continued to arrive, I was escorted downstairs and away from the activity swirling around my husband. From the moment the first officer arrived I began to feel protected. The police officer who stayed downstairs with me was so calm. He was calm but totally connected to my situation. I knew that his training, character and demeanor would help me through the next few hours, days, weeks and months. While I will be forever beholden to the paramedics, my connection is with the Police Officers. For many of you, this is ironic as I grew up in a Fire Department family. I believe in the early morning hours of that first day of spring in 2009, I began to understand why someone becomes a Police Officer.

As I read more details of the events in the early morning hours on Friday, a stormy summer day, I wonder what is going through people’s minds. Will some officers rethink their roles? Will young men and women contemplating this line of work question their decisions? How many extra phone calls home or text messages were sent yesterday by cops, just to touch base? Just to say, “I’m OK”? How many husbands and wives spent a sleepless night as their loved ones worked their shifts? What’s going through the minds of those on the Taylor Police Department? For that matter, any Police Department? How much can Corporal Edwards' 6 year old son and 4 year old daughter understand? How do you mend the broken heart of a child? How do you mend the heart of parents who lose their child? Cpl Edwards’ wife is well protected in the fold of the arms of the men and women her husband worked with. I pray they can all comfort each other now and continue to be there as the harder days that are ahead, approach.

I will say this and know it may not be popular with some. But I strongly question the cuts and downgrades that are being imposed on Police and Fire Departments because of budgetary woes. How do you justify downgrading public safety but keep what I believe most would deem non-essential services, untouched? I know in my town, departments were asked to make cuts. The Fire and Police Chief’s worked hard to do what was in the best interest of the people they serve and protect. City employees are taking furlough days. The wonderful fountain, a summer favorite has been shut down to cut costs. But our library and historical society are balking at giving back funds or making cuts. The city council is not asking for these funds because they want to pay for new items or anything frivolous. They want to avoid further cuts to the protection of the residents of Flat Rock. In Trenton, many senior members of the Police Department took buy out packages in order to save the jobs of younger cops and to keep the police on the streets, to serve and protect. I know many other towns are working hard to keep their Police and Fire personnel intact. I can’t help but think this is a horrible vicious circle… no jobs, higher crime; fewer taxes paid, less city services available, no jobs, higher crime… and so on. I don’t know if the events of Friday morning had anything to do with cuts in Taylor. I do believe we will see more tragic events like this if we don’t have adequate, no not adequate, appropriate protection.

To the family of Corporal Edwards, I am so sorry for your loss. To the Taylor Police and all officers, my sympathies... May you all be at peace and safe.

If you feel so inclined, there is a memorial fund for Corporal Edward’s family set up though the Thin Blue Line of Michigan, P. O. Box 415, Howell, MI 48844. Cards are also welcome at this address.