The Phone Call

Today, I don't respond to your 911 call asking for assistance because your boyfriend is beating you up. You're bleeding, you're hurting, you're dying, but I don't respond. I don't respond when you crash into a pole on Highway 19 at a high rate of speed, as you sit, screaming in pain hoping for help. I don't respond as the radio advises you ten year old daughter's been missing for four hours, having never returned from school. She's scared and alone, and I don't help her. When the radio calls for help because you're being robbed at gun point, everything you know and love flashing before your eyes as you look down the barrel of a gangsters gun, I don't respond. I don't come to help when your husband, your wife, you kids, your parents, are screaming in agony as they lie dying on their bedroom floor. I don't respond.

The day started out like any other. She watched from the comfy chair across the room as I put on my gear. My under armour shirt strapped tightly to my torso. A fifteen pound Kevlar vest lopped over my head hanging across my shoulders, strapped firmly across my stomach. My shirt stayed neatly at my feet, tugging through my pants firmly tucked in at the waistline. My thirty pound belt, buckled expertly at the perfect midline. My empty holster filled with my precise instrument of immediate justice and protection. My baton, my oleoresin capsicum, my Taser, my handcuffs, and my radio.

I smiled and modeled for her, "How do I look?" I asked, hoping I would look the part.

"Perfect. Go stop the bad guys!" She says will a cheerful look in her eyes, proud of her man.

I got in my car and drove to work like I would any other day. Stopped in for my protein shake. Sent one more "I love you" text to my wife. I was ready for the day; a day full of delayed burglarys and domestic altercations. A day which was supposed to be filled with busy work and reports.

My radio goes off...

"Two Hotel Forty Two, show me enroute." I say as normal as ever. Routine call.

Minutes pass, nearly an hour.

The wife's phone rings, which always makes her nervous. It's just her mom, planning their next mother/daughter get-away. She hangs up the phone and turns on the TV, lying in bed, ready to sleep. The news is as bleak as it always is, but today it was local. "...authorities engaged in an officer involved shooting tonight. At this time it is believed officers were put in a situation where it was life or death for the Sheriff's Office. Name's are not being released right now... all we know is the suspect took his own life."

At every sound she stares at her phone, waiting for the text... "I'm okay, just going to be busy for a while." but nothing comes. She turns from the news, to the phone, to the news, and back to the phone. Irritability sinking in.

All I can see is red flashing above me. I hear the sound of the radio blaring in my ears as a cold sensation takes over my body. Today, I don't respond to your 911 call asking for assistance. I lay on a bed of steel and wheels, dying, bleeding out in the back of an ambulance. Today I was killed on my way to that routine call when a drunk driver smashed into my car. Today I was killed when I arrived on that routine call and was ambushed by an unknown assailant. Today I was killed as I knocked on your door and a shotgun blast tore through your door and my vest. Today I was killed when I shook his hand and he shot me, blaming me for his own pain. Today I died, and I can't help you anymore.

The wife's phone laid on her nightstand, it didn't make a sound. The house was quiet. No humming electronics, no air conditioner, not even the sounds of the building could break the silence before the loudest noise this home has ever heard. The doorbell rang...

A man with bars on his shoulders and another with a white collar are standing before her, mourning what need not even be said. She doesn't know how to react. She falls to her knees and prays to a god whose name she'll soon forget and come to blame. Taps will be played, a flag folded, and a name on a wall. Every so often people will talk about the man I was, the things I did both great and small. The people who loved me will remember me for as long as they can before moving on with their lives.

The world, though.... the world will forget. The world already forgot the sacrifices which have been made. There will be no cries for justice. The streets will remain calm. The blame will be simple, a solitary finger pointing directly at the dead man who lay in the street. No big speeches. No long marches. No walking, no talking, no demanding for change. No hope.

Only one woman, who cries herself to sleep at night because she's alone. Only a family who grieves as they lost a son. Only a child who grows old never knowing who his father was. A glimmer in the eyes of those who loved him, passing with their lives.

Today, I don't respond. I can't respond because I died today. I died and the world didn't care.

I am a police officer...

#phone #odmp #officerdown #doorbell