Too many police officers are killed every year. It never really seems to hit home if you don’t know the deceased, or his family, or of his dedication to life and country. The most recent figures I found report that on average one police officer is shot or killed every 53 hours in the United States. In using those figures I estimate that 3,955 officers were shot or killed since I joined the law enforcement community in 1988. But I don’t know 3,949 of them. This following piece of my heart is dedicated to the six that I do know…
An adaptation of Danny Boy……. I humbly offer this recording as a means to understand the intended cadence of this song. Please forgive my tone deafness. I’m not a professional singer and I can’t afford to hire one… I hope you will find what I do here…… Thank you for stopping by my blog…
The pipes are calling, Danny boy….
the pipes are calling — my friend.
The pipes will bring the summer rain
and then they’ll bring the end……
A life so lost in loving hearts,
A life so lost, but true….
Could a man be happier
If that man were you……
A badge should always shield your light
lest he who tremors bold
should come upon a summer night
and lay your body cold.
So hear me Danny boy my friend,
This village from glen to glen
Hoorah’s up the mountainside
We’ll love you to the end….
I had the pleasure recently of watching a documentary written by Bill O’Reilly and narrated by Tom Hanks, titled Killing Lincoln. O’Reilly made a point of showing Lincoln walking through the streets of a decimated Richmond – once capital of the great confederacy. Lincoln sat at the desk of Jefferson Davis, who had fled the city only hours before. From that desk he was asked about the nature of attack against the still fleeing rebel soldiers, who were worn and torn and completely without any resources. They could have been killed like fish in a barrel. As for the general sentiment at the time I’m certain that would have been a most fitting end to them. But that wasn’t Lincoln’s assessment, which is why I believe he is the greatest man who probably ever lived. I applaud Mr. O’Reilly for bringing this side of Lincoln to light.
Who shall stand behind her bars and stars?
Who shall fight for Master Robert?
Wrapped in her crimson grasp he cries
“Old Glory never dies!”
Richmond lays in waste,
the path of hunger flows
over hills and valleys low.
But nothing soothes disgrace
or the damned deafening blows
Lee’s army has come to know…
Lincoln sits upon Davis’ throne,
awash in rubble and fear.
Grasping victory clearly alone
in a city full of tears.
And Captain of the Guard should ask
“How to handle the Rebs?”
Lincoln gave that solemn look
and without hesitance said:
We have wrought this terrible war
to settle a more terrible score.
Our valiant brothers in arms
have fled to field and farms.
Lest their honor shed a single tear
or bloodshed last another year,
bring their souls some hopeful cheer,
allow their cause and hearts be near,
let God and all countrymen hear,
that life and brotherhood are so dear.
With that he sat and sighed,
a great turmoil did subside.
Other men think we are all tied
but Lincoln knew deep inside…
That solitude joins each man’s path.
And so too does brotherhood.
“Let up on them, Captain.
Let up on them”
I have always found that mercy bears richer fruits than strict justice.