Silence Is Violence (?)

A song entitled "Silence is Violence" came out just a few years ago.  I personally am not familiar with this song but I know that the ideas presented in the lyrics of this song served as a spring-board for an organization called Silence Is Violence, organized for the purpose of helping and encouraging children in New Orleans to turn from violent activities and engage in constructive activities and experiences instead.  This is a very worthy organization, and similar groups have sprung up around the nation.  Since then, "Silence is Violence" has turned into a slogan calling for people to take action to end domestic violence, street violence, date rape, and several other worthy causes.  Unfortunately, in one of the many "protests" televised by the national media concerning Ferguson and New York City (you know, the "unjustified killing" of unarmed Black men by police) I saw some people carrying signs proclaiming "Silence Is Violence."  I could only infer that these people were implying that those who remain silent with regard to Ferguson and NYC, as well other "unjustified" killings of citizens by the police are furthering violence.  So, I will remain silent no longer!

First of all I would like to break my own silence by re-stating the obvious, and what has been common law ever since we were English colonies: Any person, including any police officer, has the right to defend himself with force, including deadly force, when that person believes that he is in immediate danger of losing his own life at the hands of another.  Since the states have been formed one by one, over the past two-hundred plus years, each and every state has enacted laws specifically stating that a police officer who is in imminent fear for his life may use deadly force to defend himself.  Further, the states have all added to this law another provision, that is that police officers have no duty to retreat prior to using deadly force.  The reason for this proviso was that the police were appointed by our civilized society to stand as a barrier between law-abiding citizens and law-breakers.  Given this responsibility, it only followed that the police needed to be given the necessary authority to carry out this task.

Second, I would like to restate what must have been an obvious observation by most people during these past troubled weeks, and that is that, notwithstanding the hype forced down our throats by a head-line hunting media, grand juries failed to indict (that is they No-billed) the two police officers involved in both of these most infamous situations.  In other words, after hearing both witnesses and experts, and seeing the forensic evidence, grand juries found that there was not enough evidence to indict these officers for murder.  Grand juries are the foundation of our rule by law, not by men, system of justice.  But "protesters" continued to tear up their own neighborhoods even after the grand juries spoke.

Third, the news media and certain Black "leaders" are responsible for fanning this apparently growing refusal to acknowledge that the actions of these "unarmed" (and in some cases ARMED) suspects were themselves responsible for causing the events that led to their deaths.  For instance, in Ferguson the "teen" was a hulking young man who was in fact just as tall and several pounds heavier than the officer who confronted him.  This "teen" proceeded to beat the officer to the point that the officer feared for his life!  But the "teen" could have submitted to arrest at any moment, and ended the situation without bloodshed.  In New York, we are told that a man was "only" selling cigarettes without paying taxes (bootlegging).  When confronted by police the man resisted arrested.  He was breaking a minor law. BUT...he resisted arrest.  All he had to do to stop the situation was submit to his clearly lawful arrest.  But he resisted to the point that several officers had to hold him and attempt to handcuff him, then to the point that drastic action had to be taken to subdue him.  Even then, it was clear (to the grand jury) that the officer did not intend to kill the man, but used the force he believed necessary to stop the resistance.  Even now in Texas, another Black man was shot by a White police officer, and, AS USUAL, the media and race-baiting "leaders" are on the scene and protesters are protesting right on cue.  In this case, the poor man was shot because he had a pistol in his hand and turned toward the officer AFTER THE OFFICER ORDERED HIM TO DROP HIS WEAPON.  This one does not even warrant comment.  But the constant railing by the media and by the "leaders" has directly led to the deaths of at least three police officers, and at least one incident where officers unnecessarily placed themselves in mortal danger because they were White and the suspect chasing them with a butcher knife was a minority. 

If Silence Is Violence, then I do not want to foster more violence by not speaking out against this continuing and ludicrous national trend of condemning our police officers for carrying out their sworn duty and responsibility, and that is standing between us and criminals, even if it means using deadly force.  There are laws in place to deal with unlawful police actions.  There are laws in place that call for the automatic review of shootings of citizens by the police (who are citizens themselves, by the way).  I realize that there was a time when minorities could not rely on these laws and procedures, but that was several decades ago.  If anything, the law now goes the extra mile to ensure fairness to all concerned.  I expect and demand that police officers protect me and my loved ones by first protecting themselves while they do their most dangerous job.  I am sure I would be very angry if one of my relatives were killed by a policeman, but I also know that I would rely on the grand jury to decide whether or not to indict the officer.  And, even if the officer were indicted, that officer would still be entitled to a trial, just as would be any other citizen. 

If Silence Is Violence, then I do not want to foster more violence by not speaking out in support of our police officers.  No, I do not like everything the police do, but overall I appreciate the work they do.  I understand both first hand and as a bystander that the police are in danger every minute they are in uniform.  The murdered New York City officers are a loud testament to this fact.  I believe in the Second Amendment and I frequently exercise it.  But, most often I am unarmed and depending on the police to protect me.  I am confident that the police will act in a lawful manner.  Why?  Because the police, like most of us, are law-abiding citizens.  And, like most of us, they go to work to do their job in the best way they can.  I am also confident that very few police officers wake up each day with the desire to kill someone during their upcoming shift.  Most police officers, like most of us, just want to do their jobs, have successful careers, and live long enough to retire.  Most of us know that most police officers are here to protect us, and that is why we can live our lives as worry-free as possible in a free society. 

So  ....if Silence Is Violence, then I am shouting out loud here on this page that I for one stand behind our police officers, that I for one will NEVER protest when a cop is forced by a criminal to use deadly force to protect himself or herself, because that cop, by dealing with the criminal, is not only saving his or her own life, but is saving your life or my life as well.  I for one will never protest a police officer's power and authority to use deadly force.  I refuse to stand silently by anymore when certain "leaders" and the media use these events for political or monetary gain.  And above all, I refuse to be a part of the portion of society that has grown so unreasonable and so ignorant that they feel the need to riot and ravage in the guise of "protest" when the very thing they are protesting is trumped up by that media and hawked by the supposed "leaders," up to and including the President of the United States.

If Silence Is Violence then I shout loudly from this page...

                                                                    COPS' LIVES MATTER!!

God bless you,
And God bless America
  

Just A Quick Time Out

There has been such a wave of tragedy in the Midland area in the days and weeks leading up to Christmas that I just had to take a time-out from it all.  There has been so much anger and violence in our nation over the past few weeks before the holiday season that I just had to stop, for just a minute, and think about the true reason for the season, the meaning of what will transpire in just eight days, or seven if your family celebrates on Christmas Eve.  By the way, if you do not celebrate Christmas at all, please disregard this post, and please take no offense.  To each, his own.

Just about two thousand years ago a child was born in Nazareth, that child of course was later to be known as Jesus, Emmanuel, the Good Shepherd.  The story of his birth is what most people think of when they think of Christmas.  The name of Jesus' birthday anniversary celebration was first known as Christ's Mass, but was shortened over the years to the name of that day we love so much, Christmas.  This day became a holiday (a holy day, as it were) in which we celebrated our gratitude for Christ's great gift to us by giving gifts, or presents, to our friends and loved ones to show them how much we loved them, as Christ loved us so much.  But though we celebrate the day of Christ's birth, the great gift the Good Shepherd gave us was not his "birth" but his LIFE.

Jesus, the Good Shepherd, showed us how to live in peace and how to love our neighbors as ourselves.  More than this, he showed us that it was POSSIBLE for people to love themselves, and to love their neighbors as they loved themselves.  Jesus showed us, by his own example, that we can live in a world where so much is going "wrong," where there is so much violence, so much hate, and we can yet have peace, an INNER peace, neither created by the world nor destroyed by it.  Jesus showed us how to find peace in every day we live, and how to be content in every state in which we may find ourselves.  He never told us that our day to day lives would be free from tragedy or ill circumstance, but He did show us that we had hope in Him while things were going "bad" for us, that we could still find joy when bad things and unhappy circumstances surrounded us.  He taught us to be thankful when things were good, and even more thankful to the Father when things were not going so well, because even when things are at their worst, God holds us in his hands.

That "Christmas Day" celebrated by the shepherds of the field, and later by the Magi, two thousand years ago, gave us a special day to celebrate.  But it was the Good Shepherd's life that showed us how we should live, how we could live.  And the greatest gift of all that the Good Shepherd gave us was not His birth, not His life, but His greatest gift came on us that day, that sad day that He went to His death on the cross.  While hanging on the cross, the Good Shepherd demonstrated to us that most profound truth, that no greater love has a man, than to die for those he loves.  The Good Shepherd demonstrated this truth by giving His life on the cross for all the people then, and for all the people from then on.  It is this gift, this greatest gift of all, that is truly the Reason for the Season. 

Yes, the past few weeks have been especially tragic times in Midland, but I suppose that the same can be said by many people across this nation of ours, and around the world.  Tragedy never seems to take a holiday, and we may feel that we are surrounded by so much heartache.  But it is the Good Shepherd's gift, a gift that surrounds us all year long, not just during the "holiday season," that allows us to have hope, and find joy.  We love our friends and relatives, and we show this love especially at this time of the year, by giving gifts, symbols of our love, to those for whom we care.  The Good Shepherd showed us how to give not just things, but ourselves as well, to those we love.

Well, I am glad for this little detour out of the hustle and bustle, and the heartache, to remember all that I am blessed with, and all those who bless me every day, not just during Christmas time.  There are still eight days until Christmas, but the greatest gift ever given just keeps on giving.  And during the holiday season, we get a double-dose of this gift.  As I wrote yesterday, my heart goes out to those who are hurting right now, and I hope they are even now feeling the arms of the Good Shepherd holding them.  Christmas will be a much more tearful time for some people this year, yet even in their sorrow, they will still be able to celebrate the greatest gift ever given.

God bless all of you, and God bless America.

 

Midland Is In Shock Today In Light Of Tragic Murder - Suicide

Tonight my heart and my prayers go out to two families as they struggle to comprehend and come to terms with the terrible events of last evening; events that shocked a city and struck another blow to the local men and women of law enforcement.  Last evening, shortly after 6:00 PM, we first received news of shooting, and we at the local hospital began bracing for the possible reaction.  It came swiftly, and very soon we knew there was much greater law enforcement response than would normally be seen for a shooting.  Shortly after the arrival of the first victim we learned that a police officer was involved in the incident.

By morning the news was out; a police officer had gone to his residence and shot his wife.  He then dialed 9-1-1 and left the telephone line open.  Other police officers were dispatched to the officer's residence, where they were met with a horrifying sight.  The officers found their colleague's wife lying wounded.  She was rushed to the hospital but died shortly after arriving there.  The officer himself was found dead in the residence with what appeared to be a self-inflicted gun shot.  Midland police officers were shocked and numbed, as well as saddened so greatly, by what they found.  In a great show of support, the Midland County Sheriff's Office and criminal investigators and technicians from the Odessa Police Department arrived and took over the sad duty of investigating those terrible events and documenting evidence found at the scene.  The Texas Rangers also became involved in the investigation.

Enough of the facts! 

The family and friends of these two young people, as well as the officer's colleagues, must now try to carry on with their lives, and their jobs, while they try to make sense of what has happened.  The only positive aspect of this situation that has come to light so far as that the officer spared the lives of his two small children.  These little children are now in the loving care of their extended family.  But two families are left devastated, and an entire city is reeling, wondering why this tragedy occurred.

No one really knows what brings a person to such a point in his life that he believes he has no other recourse than to take the life of the mother of his children, or to take his own life, for that matter.  There are so many questions, though, that may or may not be answered.  Did this young couple have ongoing domestic violence issues?  Was a divorce pending?  Maybe there was some other issue, but whatever the problem might have been, it is almost beyond belief that the officer, or should I just say, the husband, evidently felt that he had no alternative other than killing his wife.  It is difficult to believe that one or both of these young people had not sought help, or that if they had, there was not something that could have been said or done that might have turned this man away from the idea that there was no way out but the final one.

Even as the events here in Midland were unfolding, the entire nation was shocked by the news about a man who killed his spouse and five other family members, and was still on the run at the same time the officer and his wife died.  And we were once again left to wonder what happened?  Why?  Couldn't someone have intervened, couldn't something have been done, to prevent this tragedy, and so many like it that happen every year?  I wish I had answers, and I am sure these families do as well, much more strongly than do I. 

I certainly have no answers tonight.  I have no platitudes to tell the survivors, nor would I want to hear any if I were in their position.  Was it "just one of those things?"  Was it because we "just never know what someone we love is really capable of?"  And the most over-used one, "it was just God's will."  Yes, I have no answers, and I offer no trite clichés.  I only want to express in some small way to those hurting tonight that others care about them, and that I hope they feel the comfort that only the Good Shepherd can offer, and does, even when we don't know why these terrible things happen.  May these families feel the Good Shepherd's hands, and may the officers who have lost their colleague feel this Comfort as well.


 

Baltimore Day 3 and Day 4

It was a damp morning that greeted me Saturday.  My lovely bride was off early to her conference.  I awoke when she did but then thought the better of it.  I then did not get up until the cleaning woman knocked on the door sometime around 12 or so (more so than 12).  So then I got up to greet the dawn, but was not able to do so since the dawn had moved out of downtown several hours before.

My first foray out of the hotel was to meet with my lovely bride for lunch at Five Guys.  Five Guys was its usual good-self, but the crowd there was quite entertaining.  I am sure my rather Texas-like garb did not attract much attention, either.  But the really entertaining part was when a young mother was giving her boy-child messages with only the tightening of her lips, the raising of her eyebrows, and of course, her laser eyes when appropriate.  It appeared that the young man was not interested in putting on his coat, but his mother was ready to leave Five Guys.  But with appropriate facial expressions, either approving or fiercely disapproving as necessary, eyebrows raised or lowered is needed, and laser eyes applied when the child failed to receive the other signals, the mother finally got her child outfitted for the outdoors, and they were gone.  Not a single word was spoken by the mother and child during this exchange

You might recall that during our short foray to Washington, D.C. I saw no movie stars, no car chases or shootings, and no REAL spies either.  That was the same for Baltimore I am afraid, so, having no exciting (BUT TOTALLY TRUE) stories concerning espionage with which to regale the reader, I am forced to delve into more mundane subjects.  I say mundane, but the information I am about to impart to you should be very helpful if you ever visit Baltimore your own-self.  For instance, there is protocol involved in the proper use of the sidewalks through downtown.  Yes, I am telling the truth.  And, failure to follow such protocol could result in injury or embarrassment to those attempting to share the same sidewalk.  For instance, people who are just strolling along the sidewalks, minding their own business (even if it is blatantly OBVIOUS that they are tourists from Texas), are expected to walk "to the right."  Yes, the left center "lane" is reserved for those persons (usually NOT tourists from Texas) who have a definite purpose for walking down the sidewalk at a breakneck speed which is much faster than I can run (right up around 4 mph or so).  These people say "excuse me" or "passing on the left" at which time, if you do not want to end up in a tangled mass of humanity on the sidewalk, the slower person would make sure to move to the right and stay there. 

The far, far left side of the sidewalk is reserved for cyclists, skateboarders, and joggers who are moving at a clip that leaves little room for error or misunderstanding.  I learned this little tip very quickly and do not mind sharing with you at all.  In this case, my lovely bride and I were leisurely strolling along the sidewalk a couple of blocks from the hotel when a faint male voice that sounded like the speaker must have been at least fifty feet behind us said, "Riding by on the left."  Just as I turned to the left to see who was speaking the bicyclist shot past like a tree-hugging bolt of lightning, nearly slamming into my left rib cage.  I managed to just side-step to the right, heroically saving my lovely bride from the near miss with the two-wheeled maniac!  As the young man rode away, I could swear I saw a look on his face that said he recognized us as world tourists and thus did not make any obscene gestures or excited utterances.  Or maybe we could not hear him over the sirens of a passing fire truck.  Anyway, once bitten, twice as shy, as they say.

This principle applies as well to escalators in both Baltimore and D.C.  The law-abiding escalating pedestrian is expected to "keep right."  That means single-file, by the way.  A couple using the escalators together will quickly find themselves at odds with persons who are busy, late, jogging, fleeing police officers, or on the way to a clandestine meeting at the Washington Monument, if said couple fails to "keep right!"  This protocol was easily learned within thirty seconds of stepping onto the "down" escalator at Union Station.  I generally "escalate" on an escalator, meaning that I either (for my own safety due to the lack of a "grace" gene) stay on the stair that I originally landed on, or may step no more than two steps between the top and bottom of the escalator.  In fact, if a person is using the escalator as "intended" the person must stay to the right, and you get about ONE chance to learn this.  Failure to be a quick study in this area could easily result in multiple injuries as the escalator "pro" and the Texas tourist both go falling down, producing what I assume would be a similar aspect to the lowly snowball rolling downhill until it becomes an avalanche.  Luckily, I was able to assimilate this protocol very quickly.  No one was injured by my trips up and down the escalator.

After such a "hands on" education, I was tired, and my lovely bride was due back at her conference.  So I went back to the hotel and did what many people would mistakenly construe as "nothing" until time to meet again for dinner.  I in fact DID accomplish some things, but it is difficult to catalogue them here, so I will leave that part your own imaginations.  Suffice it to say that I met my lovely bride after her conference was done for the day.  We dined at the Kona Grill once again.  The food there is terrific and the atmosphere is, uh, not Hawaiian, but still a great dining experience.  Then back to the hotel.  We did not hit the town as such, but we DID have two cups of the Marriott's most wonderful spiced apple cider.  Then it was time to call it a night.  I know it was because Sweetie yelled and threw a pillow at me sometime around 1AM as a gentle and loving hint that I might need to turn off the light...NOW!!

Sunday morning for me was a morning spent packing and arranging leave from our hotel, while my lovely bride attended the last sessions of her conference.  All too soon we were in a cab headed back to Baltimore Thurgood Marshall International Airport.  Here I would like to point out that taxis are VERY expensive forms of transportation, yet there are times when they are the best form of "no hassle" travel, and this was one of those times...never mind the extra dollars spent.  Soon we were in the air.  We had a short stop at Houston to change planes, then we were Midland bound.  It was very nice to get home.  No matter how comfortable a hotel is, it is always so much MORE comfortable to lay down in one's own bed.

But...now it is Monday morning, and I am off to Dallas for a conference of my own, sans my lovely bride.  If you are going to Baltimore and DC, please keep my very helpful tips in mind.  Oh, and if you see Mark Harmon, let him know I was upset about missing him the other day.

Thanks, and God bless Baltimore

And America

Baltimore Trip - Day 2 (or, Washington DC In Four Hours)

My lovely bride and I arrived in Baltimore Thursday night, and what with the time change, jet lag, and all, I did not go to bed until 1 AM, Baltimore time (midnight Texas time).  My lovely bride, being much smarter, hit the sack three hours earlier.  So, when the alarm sounded at 6 AM, I was not ready to arise with the sun.  Unfortunately, we had to get to Washington D.C., and we wanted to get there fairly early, so that meant catching the local train at 8:15.  This train ride was, by the way, the second train ride of my life, other than the small, scale model train that used to take children around Cameron Park in Waco.  So, today's ride was an interesting experience.

The nice concierge at our hotel told us exactly how to get to the light rail train only three blocks from the hotel.  My lovely bride had me listen to the directions so that we could be sure to get there without getting lost on the way.  MISTAKE!  I promptly got us lost on the way to the train.  A three block walk may not seem THAT complicated, but remember, there are FOUR directions in which one can walk those three blocks, and only ONE of those directions is correct.  So, I immediately led us off in the wrong direction.  My lovely bride asked me if I was positive we were going in the right direction.  I told her that "of course I was positive."  For some reason, my spouse immediately stopped a passer-by and asked for directions.  Here I would like to say two things.  First, I would NEVER have asked for directions once I was lost, even though that would be the best thing to do.  Second, this particular young man resembled someone I thought I had seen on the FBI's most wanted list.  I tried to lead my wife away immediately, but she instead walked over to the somewhat dangerous looking guy and, yes...., asked for directions.  (HA!...it turned out I was taking us generally in the right direction, although we would have missed the train because I was about to take us past a building that would have concealed the light rail station. ( Oops.)  By the way, apparently there is no turntable on the light rail.  We literally BACKED all the way to Union Station, sometimes at nearly 70 miles per hour!

So we got on the light rail and rode to Union Station, Baltimore.  When we left the train and entered Union Station, I once again got accurate directions from a railroad employee.  Once again I led us to the next train, in accordance with the new directions.  Unfortunately I had led us in the complete opposite direction so that we ended up on the wrong side of the boarding platform.  Luckily my lovely bride pointed out that we were on the wrong side of the platform, so we were able to climb back up the escalators, run across the walkover bridge, and get back down to the correct platform and STILL not miss the train to DC.  And, finally we arrived at the Smithsonian Institution. 

The first thing I observed was that the Smithsonian is not just one large building.  In fact there are several large buildings spread across a couple hundred acres, it seems.  Fortunately there are signs posted periodically so that I could see what exhibits were housed in what buildings, and these were normally in buildings I had passed two or three blocks earlier.  So we spent a little time backtracking to the places we wanted to go.  The Air and Space Museum was our first stop.  Oh, here is a free pointer if you should ever visit the Smithsonian.  They open at TEN AM, not 9:58, 9:59, and not 9:599999999999999...they open at TEN.  I also observed, and pass this on for free as well, that if a person tries hard enough to get in before 10:00 AM, a large police officer (by large I mean retired from a pro-football offensive line!) comes out the door and inquires as to why said person wants in before TEN.  The person in question walked quickly away so I never learned why the person wanted in early, but I did realize that 10 AM on the dot was just fine by me.

My lovely bride and I toured the Flight Museum and, of course, found many things of interest.  Firstly, I got to play with a little model airplane that was attached to a small wind tunnel.  This little gadget allows a person to control the basic flight characteristics such as lift, banking, pitch, and yaw (yes, this is really a word!) by using controls that actually operate the ailerons, elevators, and rudder.  The demonstration lasts about thirty seconds, then one is supposed to surrender the device to the next kid in line.  It was not until some poor little boy's mother snidely remarked that an old man was hogging the flight trainer that I realized I should probably move on.  My lovely bride was also nowhere to be seen, so this was another indication that I had stayed at one exhibit for too long.

I found my bride edging her way out of the school kids' section and into the larger exhibit area, so I followed her cue.  Outside on the main floor, and close to the entrance, was the space capsule that famed astronaut, and later United States senator, John Glenn piloted as he orbited the earth.  I would like to say here that I did not realize how SMALL these capsules were.  The chair portion of the capsule was smaller than a cheap #$%-Mart lawn chair.   I am pretty sure that once a person finally contorted and compressed himself into the folded shape necessary to enter the capsule and sit on the chair, that person could pretty much not move again until the space flight was over.  The Mercury flights were sometimes only a few hours long, but I suspect the poor astronaut could not move or stand for at least an hour after being pried out of the capsule by those helpful Navy guys that rig the capsule for recovery onto the aircraft carrier.  Even more amazing was the heat shields on these capsules.  There places on some of the capsules where the heat shields had burned completely away.  I bet the astronauts had to rub aloe vera gel on various parts of their anatomy upon reentry.

There was so much to see in the Air and Space Museum that I cannot write it all here.  Those beautiful bi-planes, World War II - era planes, the pioneering and modern jets, all were so interesting.  I felt awed to see the Spirit of St. Louis hanging next to one of the first jet planes to break the sound barrier.  My lovely bride was amazed by one exhibit...it was scale model of Howard Hughes' Spruce Goose, and next that was twin-engine DC-3, built to the same scale.  At least six DC-3's would have fit on the Spruce Goose, yet these airplanes seem so big when one stands beside them.  Next we went to an Imax movie dealing with the Hubble Telescope.

I would like to preface this story with some vital need to know information, and that is that I did not sleep well (or go to bed until late) the night before.  So, we go into the Imax, and pretty soon this wonderful 3-D movie starts.  It deals briefly with the history of the Hubble telescope, and about the space mission in which astronauts went to the Hubble while it was in orbit, so that they could replace the warped objective mirror.  Once the mirror was replaced, the telescope sent back to earth some of the most spectacular and beautiful images of the celestial bodies ever seen by mankind.  Uh...except this man did not see many of those images.  As those beautiful images filled the 3-D screen, the sound-track switched from narration to very celestial, and unfortunately, very relaxing music.  Although I was only checking the inside of my eyelids, some people, including my lovely bride, mistakenly thought I had gone to sleep.  Okay, they were not THAT mistaken.  Apparently the celestial images I saw were mostly in my mind, until I was rudely awakened by a hard jab to the right ribs.  Apparently my lovely bride had become certain that I was sleeping due to noises that sounded to her like snoring.  Anyway, I had apparently missed most of the show, because when I opened my eyes, the lovely celestial bodies had been replaced by the rolling credits of the movie production staff.  So, that was the tour of the Air and Space Museum.

It being lunch time, we left the Smithsonian and walked a little further downtown.  I need not mention that my lovely bride was a little irritated with me for going to sleep during such a spectacular show, but she did not bear ill will for me very long.  Maybe hunger outweighed the need to chide me for that indiscretion.  Anyway, as we strolled along on the streets of Washington, D.C. looking for a place to dine, I saw a sign and nearly could not believe my eyes.  So I put my glasses back on and read the sign again.  Sure enough, it said "Hill Country Ribs."  Now I know we were halfway across the world from Texas, but there is only ONE REASON a place would be called Hill Country Ribs!  So, ignoring all the Indian, Thai, Irish, IHOP, and other ethnic restaurants, I dragged my lovely bride with me to Hill Country.  There, right on the outside wall was the Lone Star flag in all its glory!  And the smell of the Hill Country rolled out the door and off the roof vents.  Barbeque!  All the fixin's plus pictures of Austin, Lockhart, and the Hill Country.  Who would have thought it?!  By the way, you should try the baked beans made with burnt ends.  Wow, hot and spicy, with melt in your mouth beef!  It was a balanced meal with a nice helping of brisket in one hand and beans and cornbread in the other.  I love Texas-style balanced meals!  Then, back to the Smithsonian.

Did I mention it was cold?  I guess it was not really cold by Baltimore standards, but it was cool with 100% humidity, which meant that my joints were all rubbing bone against bone and were freezing.  But still it was a good day, and not snowing or anything that severe.  We made our way back to Smithsonian complex and headed toward the American Museum of Natural History.  BUT...then Sweetie decided we wanted to go to the Smithsonian Castle.  I have to admit, I was intrigued by the fact that there was a castle within the complex, and I was curious what was inside.  It turns out that the castle serves as an information center and also features very small tidbits of the various collections housed at the Smithsonian, sort of an appetizer, I suppose.  There is also a museum store located there. 

Did you know that housed in the Castle is a collection of locks of hair of historic Americans?  I would not have believed this myself, but apparently some enterprising man set out to collect hair from the prominent Americans of his day, as well as somehow to secure hair from those that had passed on early in the nation's history.  George Washington's hair, for instance, is there, as is hair from President Tyler, certain military figures, and various other politicians and elites.  I was curious about how the various hair samples were procured, but my lovely bride gave me a look that seemed to discourage further inquiry in this direction.  Plus, by this time we needed to start making our way back to the train station, as we had a dinner date back in Baltimore.  Thus ended my four hour excursion into Washington D.C.

I have to say here that I was slightly disappointed in one respect.  That is that during the duration of our Washington foray, we did not see ONE SINGLE SPY.  That is right!  I figured that the area around the Smithsonian would be rife with spies.  I mean, aren't they always meeting in the shadows of the Washington Monument, or at the steps of Lincoln's Memorial?  And I did not see a single high-speed chase involving a Ferrari or Lamborghini being pursued by a caravan of shiny black Chevrolet Tahoes or Suburbans.  AND I did not see Mark Harmon standing around talking to some shady character, nor did I see Jim Spader or the other guys from the Black List!  So disappointing.  I figured pedestrians would be constantly narrowly escaping death in the crosswalks as chases and gunfire raged through downtown.  Snaps!

But, the disappointment was short-lived,  Sweetie and I managed to board the correct trains and make the correct connections so that we made it back to Baltimore to our hotel.  An hour later we were at the Cheesecake Factor eagerly awaiting the arrival of my lovely cousin, her daughter, and grandson.  And when they arrived it was a grand reunion.  Well, reunion with my cousin.  But I had never met her charming daughter or the grandson so full of vim even though it was getting late.  We had a good meal at the Cheesecake Factory.  By the way, they make more than cheesecake.  In fact, I was so full of my meal that I did not even get to sample the cheesecake.  Rats.  Another time, perhaps.  The dinner was so fun and full of conversation, but all too soon it was time to call it a night.  We said our goodbyes and collected our hugs.  I am not sure how long it will be until we see these good people again, but the short time we had to visit will last until then.  A short walk back to our hotel and we called it a night.  Having slept through the Imax movie, I decided to go to bed at a slightly more reasonable hour tonight. 

Good night Baltimore, and God Bless America

Baltimore Bound, or...But Do We HAVE TO Fly?

I am sitting in the Southwest Terminal at the great and powerful Midland International Airport at the moment while waiting for our boarding gate to open.  Those of you who know me will know that I do not like to fly in a jet on a GOOD day, much less on a day when the ceiling is at around 500 feet.  Yes, I know they have radar and that I should be glad it is not raining or snowing, or worse.  Well, I AM glad for all the above; it's just that I get a little queasy every time I have to fly.  Not that I am a world traveler, you understand, but occasionally my lovely bride asks me to go on business trips with her.  But I usually limit those trips to Houston in the summer.  I suspect that the clime to which we will be journeying will be less than balmy.  But, I digress...

So it is hour two of day one of the trip to Baltimore.  I confess that I am excited about this opportunity to see such a historical location.  It was in the harbor near Fort McHenry that Francis Scott Key penned "The Star-Spangled Banner" as the British navy bombarded said fort.  Yes, I will be excited to see Baltimore and also the many attractions in nearby Washington, D.C.  But first, there is the dreaded flight!

I have to say that I made a feeble, futile attempt to talk my wife in to letting me drive to Baltimore.  I told her I was willing to drive all the way there and all the way back.  I know there is a chance of having a car wreck on the way to and from, but many times there are survivors in car accidents.  I suppose that there are many situations in which the airplane is already on the ground when a crash occurs, and in those cases some people DO survive.  But...if anything goes wrong at, say, 38,000 feet, and the pilots are not able to take corrective action...well, you know what happens then.

Cripees, the airliner just pulled up to the gate.  We will be boarding soon, like in ten minutes.  I know we have to be in Baltimore so that my lovely bride can attend her conference in the morning, but, as the jet parks at the portable gate, as the baggage is unloaded, and while our baggage is being onloaded, I have to wonder once again, Do We HAVE To Fly!!! 

The little kids are jumping with joy to board the plane...I guess I will put on my brave face for their sake.  So, I will (hopefully!!) make another post later today...time to run!

End of Watch: Sergeant Alejandro "Alex" Martinez, Willacy County Sheriff's Office - Nov. 21, 2014

I am saddened but honored to lift up Deputy Sergeant Martinez on my blog.  Sergeant Martinez was killed in a one-vehicle accident while on patrol in Willacy County in South Texas.  I had delayed this post in hopes of learning more about how the accident happened; however, it appears that state troopers have still not determined exactly what caused the accident.

Sergeant Martinez was a long-time member of the South Texas law enforcement community, having served in the Weslaco Police Department, the Texas Department of Criminal Justice, and as the chief of the Raymondville Police Department just prior to his service with the Willacy County Sheriff's Office.

I extend my sympathy to the peace officers that lost their fellow worker, and to the family and friends of this good man.

May you rest in peace, Sergeant Martinez. 

The Ferguson Shooting: A Tale Of Two.........

While many people may not have read that old and famous novel, we are many of us familiar with that famous line, "It was the best of times, it was the worst of times."  That line, from Charles Dickens' classic, A Tale of Two Cities, seems to best describe the tragedy, the anger, the fear, and all the other emotions experienced by both those actually involved in the Ferguson shooting and by those who were and are "third parties," that is, persons not involved but who felt compelled to involve themselves in the "protests" and violence that followed the initial incident AND the violence that will no doubt go on as this night passes in Ferguson.

First, the tragic incident of that day in August.  There are two versions, in the final analysis - the officer's version, and what actually happened.  I do not know, nor do most other Americans, what actually happened in the officer's patrol car while he and Michael Brown were both out of view of the public.  Michael Brown, of course, is not able to tell his version.  The available forensic evidence had to suffice to tell Michael's version, as best as is humanly possible to know.  Then Michael Brown got out of the patrol car, at which time the officer, Darren Wilson, fired his weapon at least one more time.  That part of the incident DID occur in full view of many people, and again, two versions emerged from the one incident.  Some say Brown had raised his hands in surrender.  The officer, obviously, felt that he needed to fire another round because he was still in danger.

Second, the tale of two Michael Browns.  The first Michael Brown that we, as a nation, heard of was the "teen" who was walking down the street, en route to visit his aunt, or grandmother.  Suddenly a belligerent and White police officer confronted Michael Brown, yelled at him, and shot him.  A White cop shot a Black "unarmed teen."  The people there, and soon the media, began shouting across the nation and around the world that "yet again" a White cop MURDERED a Black "youth" who was unarmed.  Within minutes rioting had broken out.  Within hours the people of Ferguson were in a war zone.  But...there was a second Michael Brown, also described in the media, a huge and hulking Michael Brown who was recorded on video as he strong-armed merchandise from a neighborhood store.  This Michael Brown stood head and shoulders taller, and was much heavier, than the small man trying to prevent the theft.  This Michael Brown was a "teen" ONLY in age, not in size or in criminal intent.  He was clearly not new at theft and not willing to abide by the laws of a civilized nation.  When confronted by a police officer, Michael Brown did not comply with the officer's reasonable and lawful order to get out of the traffic lane and walk on the sidewalk, so that he would not impede traffic.  Michael Brown made the decision to lay hands on the officer, who incidentally, was much smaller than the "teen."  Michael Brown was not afraid to attack an armed police officer.  Is there any reason to believe he would hesitate to attack an unarmed citizen and commit a crime?  This criminal was much different from the Michael Brown portrayed most loudly by the media.

Third, the Ferguson incident.  This shooting, though tragic enough in itself, was viewed in two widely different ways by people all across America.  First, many Ferguson residents, and the vast portion of the media, played this incident up as a racially motivated, legally sanctioned murder of a Black person by a White person in authority.  Those proffering this version of the Ferguson incident linked it to a national and continuing assault on Blacks and other persons of color by the mostly White policemen of this nation.  To foster this version, the people and the media hysterically cried "MURDER" without any thought whatever to the possibility (however slight they may have believed it to be) that the shooting of the unarmed Black man by the White cop was legally justified.  On the other hand, some people in Ferguson, and some members of the Media, entertained the possibility that, while tragic, the shooting COULD HAVE BEEN A JUSTIFIABLE SHOOTING.  This version of the Ferguson incident acknowledged that the officer was apparently overpowered by the "unarmed teen" to the degree that officer believed his own life was in danger.  After all, no one was able to see what happened during the seconds that the "teen" beat Officer Wilson to the point that he suffered a possible skull fracture.  These people acknowledge the possibility that maybe, just maybe, Michael Brown was trying to wrench the officer's gun out of its holster, an action that clearly put the officer in danger of losing his life.  An officer in fear of his life has the right (AND THE DUTY) to use force, including deadly force, to stop the threat to his own life.

Finally, the United States justice system itself, comes in two versions.  The first version is the belief that Black people will NEVER get justice in the White criminal justice system.  These people, egged on by the Media, tore down the town of Ferguson while screaming hysterically that Black people will never get justice in America, thus setting up the Ferguson grand jury for inevitable failure if, after looking at all the known facts, it should decide that there was no reasonable grounds to indict the officer for the criminal act of murder.  The second version of this is the belief that the grand jury would look at all the facts, hear the testimony of the officer involved as well as the results of the forensic investigation, and then render either a true-bill or a no-bill.  That is, either indict the officer or not indict him, based on the facts presented.   

As I wrote this post, the grand jury decision was announced to the nation.  A short time later the President of the United States came on television to ask the nation for calm, and more importantly, to ask the nation to understand how the justice system works, and thus understand that the Ferguson grand jury had reached its decision after reviewing the facts.  This one of the few times I have ever agreed with anything President Obama has said.  Mr. Obama stressed that people may or may not agree with the grand jury's decision, but they should respect this decision, as this is how the American justice system was designed to work.  I have to give credit to the President for his speech of reconciliation.  The President rightly pointed out that no matter how outraged some Americans might feel, no matter how satisfied with the justice system other people might feel, the people who lost the most were the parents of Michael Brown.  President Obama read a statement from Michael Brown's parents asking the people of Ferguson and the nation to be calm in this decision, and to protest, if they felt the need, in positive ways that could result in positive change, rather than in more senseless rioting and destruction.  I would like to add that another person, Officer Darren Wilson, has lost so much as well.  In all likelihood, he will never be able to work in Ferguson again.  And, he has already born the brunt of much negative media attention, even though, as the grand jury's decision bore out, he acted lawfully in defending himself while performing his duty as a public servant.

The Ferguson grand jury decision is now behind us, and I hope the people of Ferguson will soon be able to settle into some sort of normal existence.  I certainly wish comfort on the family that lost a son.  Obviously they are not satisfied with the grand jury's decision, and honestly, I do not know that I would be satisfied if I were in their position.  Michael Brown's parents have continuing recourse, however.  They still have the option filing a wrongful death suit against the officer and the City of Ferguson.  And they have the option of requesting that the United States Department of Justice look into the incident.  Officer Wilson can still be filed on by the federal government if the Justice Department feels that he violated Michael Brown's constitutional rights. 

The Ferguson shooting has indeed been a Tale Of Two...
Two versions of a tragedy...
Two versions of Michael Brown and the officer who shot him...
Two versions of the response to the tragedy...
And two versions of the American system of justice...

There is also another "Two" that emerges in the wake of the Ferguson shooting, and that is that there are two possibilities facing this nation as we move forward.  The first possibility is that people can choose to become bitter, or more bitter, to become cynical and to say, "I told you so...a Black person cannot get justice in the White justice system."  I know there are some that will never accept the Ferguson no-bill.  They have already convinced themselves that somehow the various components of the American justice system have connived against people of color, and will continue to do so, as "proven" by today's grand jury decision.  On the other hand, we can choose to believe that this specific grand jury did its job, that is, they considered all the testimony and evidence presented to them, and they rendered a just, if controversial, decision.  We can believe that grand juries across the nation examine each case presented on its own merits.  And we can believe that, most of the time, the American justice system works.  The Ferguson incident is truly a Tale of Two...but it is my firm hope that we all realize there is one America and one system of justice, and that this system of justice works most of the time. 

God Bless America
 

The Ukrainian Border - Sovereign The United States Border - Not So Much

In a situation which is causing a bit of irony for the Obama Administration, one of Obama's generals (one of those he has not fired, presumably because this particular general is willing to go along with the President's questionable foreign policy, armed forces (lack of) leadership, and whole-sale trampling of the Constitution and governmental checks and balances) is calling for the closure of, and the "international respect of" the Ukraine's border with Russia.  This general, Phillip Breedlove, who is associated with the North Atlantic Treaty Organization (NATO), has pointed out the obvious, that is that the Ukraine cannot be a safe and sovereign nation if the Russian Army and insurgents constantly cross and re-cross the border while transporting supplies and soldiers, as well as guerrilla fighters.  President Obama himself has chided President Putin of Russia for his disregard for the Ukraine's sovereignty.  And, unfortunately, I find myself forced to agree with President Obama, much as it pains me to do so - but I too believe that President Putin and his minions should respect the sovereignty of his neighboring country, particularly since Russia has re-annexed the Crimean Peninsula, with its huge oil supply.  What else do they want from the Ukraine?

Having said that I support President Obama's stance on the sovereignty of the Ukraine's border, and that I agree with the President that all nations, including Russia, should recognize and respect the Ukraine's border, I now would like to point out the irony in the President's position.  President Obama has taken it upon himself to remind President Putin that a nation's borders are sovereign, that is "inviolable."  Mr. Obama would have the world understand that a sovereign nation has the right to decide who may cross the border, and that anyone ILLEGALLY crossing a sovereign nation's border is committing a crime, even causing an "international incident" that warrants a swift and firm response.  President Obama has rightly pointed out that neither the Russian army nor individual NON-citizens have the right to cross the border illegally from Russia into the Ukraine.  I agree with the President, as I am sure most of you would, too.

So, the borders of a nation are "sovereign" and should be "respected," right, President Obama?  Well I agree with you.  Further, I think what is true of the Ukraine is just as true of the United States.  That is, if the borders of the Ukraine are sovereign and inviolable, are not the borders of the United States just as sovereign?  Should not the borders of our great nation be respected as well?  Yet, Mr. President, you have shown depraved indifference to the utter disregard and disdain that both citizens and criminals of Mexico and other nations have shown for the border of the United States.  In fact, Mr. Obama, you want to reward the people who disdain the sovereign borders of our great nation by granting these criminals the prize of citizenship.  Not only that, but you and your minions endanger the lives of both Texas Peace Officers and federal Border Patrol Officers (as well as the lives of thousands of innocent AMERICAN citizens) by deliberately underfunding border protection efforts, and even interfering directly with border patrol operations.  So, if I understand rightly, Mr. Obama, we (the ENTIRE WORLD) should respect and honor the border of the Ukraine.  Okay, I understand.  But...if I understand you on the issue of the United States border, you believe that neither Mexican soldiers, the Cartels, common criminals, nor even just average Mexican citizens illegally crossing the border need respect the sovereignty of our great nation and the sanctity of our borders.  Right?  Got it, sir.

So, yes, the big irony is that President Obama has called on the world, and especially Russia, to respect the borders of the Ukraine, while here in the United States the President believes that it is not politically correct to protect and fortify our own borders.  But the biggest irony is that the President is willing to risk an international war, including the risk of nuclear war, to protect our friends in the Ukraine, but here in Texas, in New Mexico, in Arizona, and in California, the President will not risk offending the Mexican government, or even his own constituents, to close and fortify the United States border.  Ironic indeed, that the President will protect a nation halfway around the world, but will not lift a finger to protect the nation and the people who made him the most powerful man in the world.

Officer's Last Watch: Deputy Jesse Valdez III, and Constable Robert Parker

I have perhaps put this posting off on purpose due to the death of my friend Mike Naylor in the line of duty on October 9 just past, and I was not eager to write about more officer deaths.  But I know Mike would want people to carry on their lives and remember HIS life, not dwell on his death.  With that in mind, I return to my ministry of honoring Texas Peace Officers here, those who have lost their lives in the service to their state and their communities.

First, Deputy Jesse Valdez III, a deputy with the Harris County Sheriff's Office.  On October 29, 2014 Deputy Valdez was travelling across Harris County on the way to perform a welfare check on a person whom relatives believed was possibly alone at home and injured.  As Deputy Valdez was proceeding down the highway, a vehicle suddenly swerved into his lane, resulting in a head-on collision.  Deputy Valdez was badly injured and was trapped in his vehicle for some time.  He died of his injuries a short time later in a Houston area hospital.  The driver of the other vehicle, intoxicated on narcotics, was only slightly injured.  My deepest sympathy goes out to Deputy Valdez's family and his fellow officers.

On November 1, 2014 just after midnight, Constable Robert Parker White, one of the elected constables of El Paso County, was working at an off-duty job when a person at this location became upset.  When Constable White made contact with the subject, this person suddenly assaulted the officer, repeatedly striking him several times.  The officer fell to the ground and did not get up.  Some persons there came to his aid and also several officers responded.  The offender was apparently held at the scene and arrested by sheriff's deputies.  Constable White never regained consciousness and was pronounced dead at a nearby hospital.  I extend my sympathy to Constable White's family and his brothers and sisters in law enforcement.  This was a very brutal, personal attack and the offender deserves the worst the law can deal to him.

Officer line of duty deaths are typically highest in Texas, or second only to California.  That is the case this year.  As of this post, ten officers have died in Texas, while fourteen line of duty deaths have occurred in California, including the three officers killed there during the "Bonnie and Clyde" robberies and murders that took place last week.  I pray for the safety of the officers left behind, and for their comfort, as well as for the families of the fallen officers.  These men and women are heroes, and I am honored to raise them up here on my simply blog pages.

Observations Of Life After Fifty

Some observations of my life after 50:

It is imperative now that I list things I need to do, supplies I need to buy, etc...but by the time I remember where the pen is, I can't find the paper.  Having found the paper...I can't remember what I wanted to write on the list.  Having finally remembered what I need to write on the list...I cannot find that furschlugginner pen...until I FINALLY look to see what I am holding in my right hand.

When going shopping at a large venue such #%$-Mart, I always park my Tahoe in about the same spot on the same row...but when I finally get out of the store I spend two hours looking for the Tahoe because it is not in its usual parking spot.  Finally I call 9-1-1 because the Tahoe is not at the spot I left it nor on any of the adjacent rows. Everything is okay, though, because the police will be here soon....and they finally arrive forty-five minutes later...after the very kind #%$-Mart cart crew has spent forty minutes helping me look for my Tahoe  They excitedly tell the police "No, he's NOT senile, there is NO TAHOE on the parking lot!"
That's about the time I remember I brought my wife's pickup this time...

Modern electric cords, USB plugs, miniature plugs for various computer and tablet appliances, and charging cords are made so that they can all be plugged into their respective receptacles in ONE (and ONLY ONE!) correct way.  Since there are only TWO possibilities for each plug, it would follow that a person would need at most TWO attempts to plug in any one of these cords correctly.  Yet, according to one source, the average person plugs in such cords incorrectly EIGHTY-NINE percent of the time.  Think about it...how many times have you found yourself fitting a cord at least THREE times before connecting it correctly?

Once a person LOOKS like a senior citizen it becomes pointless to argue with the cashier who ASSUMES the person really IS a senior citizen.  Plus, those two or three dollars saved per meal really begin to add up!  Not that I LOOK like a senior citizen, of course!  But, I have noticed that young ladies now hold the door open for ME, the grandfatherly-looking man behind them.  That is really an added perk!

I have always heard that "life begins at fifty."  What they did NOT tell me was that so much of that "life" would be spent at the doctor's office AFTER fifty.

High school kids should not laugh at those old "fogies" at Homecoming.  Guess what...when you attend your 35th Class Reunion, YOU are an old fogie too!

One begins to suspect he is "getting older" when all the people "in authority" are young enough to be one's son or daughter.  Police officers, doctors, nurses, preachers, teachers....are all beginning to look like they are YOUNGER than MY son and daughter.  I am beginning to have a sort of paranoia because so many of the professionals I depend on WERE IN ELEMENTARY SCHOOL when I moved to Midland!  If you remained in your home town and you are now over fifty, there is a strong possibility that your GRANDCHILDREN'S FRIENDS are now taking care of you!

Sitting in a big, fat, overstuffed lounger is not nearly as boring as I thought it would be thirty years ago.  In fact, sitting ANYWHERE is not as boring as it used to be thirty years ago.

Finally, although it would be great to be young, I am glad to still be here to "age."  Fifty-plus is definitely better than the obituary pages.










 

A Final Farewell To A Fallen Hero

Words can't describe the feelings I and so many others experienced today as we said a collective good-bye to Deputy Michael Naylor. I have never seen the kind of love and support shown for a fallen officer as I witnessed today. Several hundred people, including hundreds of officers from across the state were there. Sheriff Painter unpinned Mike's badge from his uniform shirt, knelt before Mike's wife, and pressed that now sacred star into her hands. And that tall and tough Sheriff openly wept with her. So did most of the people scattered throughout that huge church building. There were three overflow rooms beside the huge auditorium, and it still could not contain all those who wanted to pay their respects.

We later learned that in all the towns along the route from Midland, Texas to Hobbs, New Mexico, the people lined the highways and streets by the hundreds and honored this deputy as the procession passed through their respective towns.

I have only said this about one or two officers since 1981, but Mike was a cop's cop...the kind that other cops measure themselves by, and strive to meet his standards. Here on earth, especially here in Midland County, Texas, Deputy Michael Naylor will be so terribly missed and mourned. But in Heaven, that Thin Blue Line boasts another hero.

May you rest with your fallen brothers and sisters, Mike.

St. James Was, And Is, A Very Good Toe-Stomper, Then and Now

For the last few weeks, the minister at the church we attend has been bringing the Sunday lesson out of the Book of James.  James is one of my favorite books of the Bible because the author of this particular book was none other than James, the half-brother of Jesus.  James was with the group of relatives who went to "collect" Jesus when Jesus was preaching at Nazareth.  The people all thought Jesus was "out of His mind" because of all the things he said (see Matthew 3:21).  The fact that the family of Jesus did not believe yet that he was the Messiah is emphasized here because they, like the others, believed that Jesus of Nazareth had actually lost his mind.  This same James, just a few years later, penned the Book of James, and he no longer had any doubt: Jesus Christ was the Son of God and had been crucified to save the world. 

James had clearly spent much time with Jesus, and as St. James, he had much insight to offer his contemporaries as well as to us in this later time.  From the very start, St. James showed the love he learned from Jesus, his great concern for his fellow believers and for us who came later on.  St. James also had other things he wanted to pass on to us from the Good Shepherd himself.  From learning to be patient to taming our tongues, St. James did his best to teach Christians, no so much how to be "religious," but how to live life in the imitation of Christ.  Unfortunately for me, EVERY TIME I read St. James, or hear someone else read these holy words, I have to say that my toes are most severely stomped upon.  Today's lesson was no exception.

St. James, in Chapter 3, talks about wisdom, about how to get wisdom, and how to spot the person who has lived wisely.  Conversely, the same words also teach others how to know when a person HAS NOT lived such a wise life.  As those words unfolded from the Bible today, I felt the words stomp my toes, but more so, the words touched my heart.  I have not lived wisely for much of my life, and I do not feel like I am living more wisely even now as I begin the sunset-portion of my life.  St. James gave us these words in Chapter 3:

¹³ Who is wise and understanding among you? Let him show by good conduct that his works are done in the meekness of wisdom."

I have heard many people, both younger and older than me, say that they have few things in their lives that they regret, that they wish they could undo, or could have the chance to do better, as the case may be.  This is not the case for me.  I DO have many things that I regret, and that I wish I could undo.  I have to say that even at this ripe age of something north of Fifty, I am not much wiser than when I graduated high school.  St. James had this to say about the un-wise person, also from Chapter 3:

¹⁴ But if you have bitter envy and self-seeking in your hearts, do not boast and lie against the truth. ¹⁵ This wisdom does not descend from above, but is earthly, sensual, demonic. ¹⁶ For where envy and self-seeking exist, confusion and every evil thing are there."  (Bold print is my addition.)

Contrast the above two verses to what St. James shows us about the life lived in wisdom, again from Chapter 3:

¹⁷ But the wisdom that is from above is first pure, then peaceable, gentle, willing to yield, full of mercy and good fruits, without partiality and without hypocrisy. ¹⁸ Now the fruit of righteousness is sown in peace by those who make peace.  (Bold mine, again.)

So, there I was sitting in the service getting my toes pounded by the words of St. James, who was the Good Shepherd's brother, who lived with Lord on earth for many years, and who truly lived for Jesus right up to the Great Tribulation that befell Jerusalem in 69 A.D.  St. James did not want to discourage God's children, but to ENCOURAGE them to live wise and blessed life in the love of Christ.  I do love the Book of St. James even with the somewhat dire words contained there.  And, I live a blessed life, blessed because I am not alone, but I have friends and loved ones who care for me.  Most especially I have my lovely bride and also my very dear friend, both of whom have encouraged me so much even in the unwise life I have lived to this very day.  These two very dear people in my life always let me know that even with regrets and wrongs in my life, the Good Shepherd still loves me.  This kind of encouragement is also what St. James tells us we should do for our friends and loved ones, as we see in the closing verses of the Book of St. James, in Chapter 5:

¹⁹ Brethren, if anyone among you wanders from the truth, and someone turns him back, ²⁰ let him know that he who turns a sinner from the error of his way will save a soul^[f] from death and cover a multitude of sins.  (Bold mine, once again!)

The Good Book is not really written so much to "stomp our toes" as it is to show us how to live, and to show us that even if we have some regrets, some wrongs in our lives, it is never too late to return to the right way.  When our dear friends, those who love us, give that encouragement, those persons have turned a sinner from error, and have covered over a multitude of sins.  Thank God for the words of St. James, which were really the words of Jesus, and thank God for those people in our lives who care enough for us to let us know that, while we have made errors, and while we may have regrets over some things we have done, they still love us, and the Good Shepherd Himself loves us as well, with a love that will truly never die.




 


 

End Of Watch: Deputy Michael Naylor, Midland County Sheriff's Office, Midland TX - October 9, 2014

Today Deputy Mike Naylor was murdered by a child predator who was the subject of an arrest warrant for failure to maintain his required sexual offender registration.  The subject named in the search and arrest warrant was determined to be at a residence on the western outskirts of Midland.  Deputy Naylor and other officers went to the residence, surrounded it, and announced their presence.  The offender did not answer officers.  When Deputy Naylor and a second deputy walked to the front door of the residence, a shot was fired from a window.  Deputy Naylor was struck in the head and went down instantly.  The second deputy attempted to give aid to the fallen officer but suffered a possible heart attack while rendering aid.  A third deputy who had just arrived at scene and deputies on the scene courageously rescued the fallen officer at risk to their own lives.  Paramedics with a large escort of officers transported Deputy Naylor to Midland Memorial Hospital.  Unfortunately the Deputy succumbed to his severe injury.

Deputy Mike Naylor was one of those officers that was respected very greatly by his colleagues but also by the public who knew him, as well.  He was the kind of officer who genuinely cared for people and tried to do not only the legal thing, but the right thing in all situations.  He served as mental health deputy when not performing other duties.  From my personal observations, I know that Mike Naylor cared for the people he detained for mental health issues.  He went out of his way to be sure that those people understood he wanted to help them, and he went out of his way to do whatever he could for them to make them more comfortable, to allay their fears.  On the street, he was a fair and just officer, always quick with a smile and a handshake.  Mike once told me that he was always glad when I was on duty at the hospital, because if things went sour with a mental patient, he always knew I would jump right in the fight with him.  I was a security officer at that time, and that was a complement I will never forget.

Today Deputy Naylor was at the hospital talking with the emergency room staff, just like any other day.  He waved at me as I walked to my duty station.  A few minutes later he told everyone goodbye and he went out on a call for service.  Less than an hour later he was shot, and the news of his death spread quickly.  It is impossible to describe the pallor that descended on the hospital at that moment as the emergency room filled with deputies and police officers, state troopers, and other officers. 

Less than another hour passed and we received news that, as I have had to write time and time again, the shooter meekly surrendered to officers, in the end begging them not to kill him.  Having personally been in this situation as a police officer, I can tell you that there is definitely a strong urge to administer quick justice right on the scene.  In fact, the officers were very restrained.  The shooter was taken into custody, and you and I, as taxpayers, will now be paying for his room and board, AND HIS ATTORNEY, as he awaits trial.

Later, Deputy Naylor's body was brought out of the hospital in a flag-draped gurney, escorted by his colleagues and his wife and loved ones.  I can tell you from personal experience that the hardest thing for an officer to do after this is to "go back to work."  No, not because of fear that he too might be shot or killed, but simply because it is really hard to be concerned about loud parties, minor car accidents, stupid disputes between neighbors, when his tears are not even dry from crying for his lost partner and friend.  But, one by one the deputies and other officers walked slowly away from the ambulance ramp and drove away to finish their shifts and return to their loved ones.

It is a sad day, but I am so proud to have known Deputy Mike Naylor, and to have worked with him even in the limited way I did over the past three years.  I am proud to honor him on this page, and I am especially proud of the light he shown on his badge and on the law enforcement profession.  I offer my deepest sympathy to his wife and family, and to the officers who lost a most beloved colleague. 

Mike, may you rest in peace as you join that Thin Blue Line over on a much better shore.  May God bless and comfort your family and your law enforcement brothers and sisters.


 

End of Watch: Deputy Michael Norris, Monroe County Sheriff's Office, Georgia - September 13, 2014

One of my purposes with this blog is to honor Texas Peace Officers who are killed or who suffer other fatal incidents while in the performance of their duties.  Although this is a sad mission, I have felt that it was a privilege and an honor to hold up their names in this blog.  I would love to honor ALL peace officers in the United States who give their lives in the service of their nation and their communities, but frankly the number of officers around the nation who lose their lives in the course of their duties is so great that I myself would probably need professional help if I focused on all of them.  So I usually limit my blog to the deaths of our heroes in Texas.  Today, however, I have to make an exception to this limitation.

Last week, a young police officer in Forsyth, Georgia was shot, along with his partner, while attempting to communicate with a barricaded suspect who had threatened to commit suicide, and who had a pistol in his possession. The family had tried to reason with the suspect but to no avail.  They called police to handle the situation.  As soon as the officers arrived and announced themselves, the suspect began firing his pistol.  Several rounds penetrated the door and walls of the residence, striking both officers.  Deputy Michael Norris, age 24, was struck in the head and went down immediately.  His partner returned fire into the residence and struck the suspect, who then meekly surrendered and demanded medical attention for the gunshot wound to his leg.   Officer Norris was transported to the hospital where he was pronounced brain-dead.  The other officer survived his wounds and will likely make a full recovery.  Of course the wounded would-be suicide will likely make a full recovery as well.  But a young widow and her child will never see their policeman again in this lifetime.

The utter needlessness of this officer’s death, the utter senselessness of his murder, really struck me, and I am not certain why.  But as I pondered these events, certain things crossed my mind.  For one thing, I myself have been this situation more times than I can remember when I was on the Waco Police force.  I served back in the dark ages, in the 1980’s and 1990’s.  Some things have changed in law enforcement since then, and some things have not.  What has not changed is that even though a situation is dangerous and urgent, time is usually NOT as critical as relatives of the would-be suicide THINK it is.  And, time is USUALLY on the officers’ side.  What I mean is that it is not critical to dramatically rush into the kill zone and “talk” the person out of committing suicide.  This idea was not stressed so much in the 80’s because the two officers arriving on such a scene were “it.”  There was no cavalry coming to save the day.  Whatever happened was up to the officers and the suspect (or victim, if you want to call the suicidal person that).  All the officers were told was to end the situation as soon as possible, hopefully by subduing the person and getting medical help for him or her.

Flash forward three decades and certainly there have been some MAJOR changes.  First, almost every jurisdiction has its own SWAT team, or the county sheriff’s office has a SWAT team that will serve any community in the county.  Second, with the events of 9/1/01, even the smallest of police departments have, or have access to, an armored vehicle and advanced weaponry designed to displace armed suspects from barricades, such as inside residences.  Thus, it is not necessary, many times, for regular uniformed police to approach a situation such as the one in which Deputy Norris   lost his life.  Instead, the first responding officers can secure the scene and evacuate persons in harm's way, then wait for the SWAT team and armored vehicles.

I believe one thing that has not changed with most police officers over time is their desire to help people in times of great danger.  Thus, police officers sometimes make the decision to enter a building or room in which an armed person is barricaded, without waiting for SWAT teams to arrive.  These officers certainly have their heart in the right place, but, as deadly incident after deadly incident show us, many times regular patrol officers are killed while trying to handle situations that would have been more appropriate for a SWAT response.  I am in no way insinuating that Deputy Norris and his partner made the wrong decision, as I was not there and was not under the pressure these two officers were.  Again, I am just pondering the idea that, in many cases, hostage or barricaded subject situations are not as time-critical as officers (and family members) might think.  Instead, once a scene is stabilized, it is possible for regular uniformed officers to wait for SWAT teams to arrive and take charge of the entry.  Sometimes the mere arrival of SWAT officers and armored vehicles is enough to hasten the conclusion of an incident due to the desire of the subject not to be shot.

What I now have to say may seem cold, and I do not intend it to be, but it is my true belief that the life of a person who wants to kill himself or herself should not be traded for the life of a police officer or anyone else who desires to continue living.  Mental illness is a difficult thing to understand, and a person who has reached the point where he can no longer deal with his mental illness is both deserving of sympathy AND UNPREDICTABLE IN HIS BEHAVIOR.  Thus, one person who threatens suicide may be easily convinced to seek professional help, while another individual simply and with no warning kills himself.  Another person may desire to die but does not have the fortitude to kill himself or herself.  This person is the most dangerous to police officers.  This person creates a situation in which confrontation with the police is inevitable and is most likely premeditated.  The person may open fire on the police without any preamble, without any discussion, and with the sole intention of shooting officers so that they will be forced to fire back and possibly kill the shooter.  In my opinion this person is either indifferent or totally uncaring that he or she will possibly kill others before being killed.  But in this case the advantage (time) is on the side of the police because nothing will happen until the police confront the suicidal person.

Suicidal persons are responsible for many officer deaths each year.  I sincerely hope that the death of Deputy Michael Norris, and of other officers killed in similar situations, will not have happened in vain.  I hope that law enforcement agencies will stress to their officers that there are many times in which it is possible, and much safer, to wait for SWAT units to arrive and handle dangerous situations.  Training officers need to stress that there is no shame or "cowardice" in this, but instead, the increased possibility of ending a dangerous situation without any officers dying in the process.

I also sincerely hope that officers themselves will discern that there is no cowardice in waiting for the appropriate unit to respond to a hazardous situation.  I know from personal experience that officers can experience a sort of "macho" feeling in which they are "man enough" or "woman enough" to handle the barricaded person without calling in the SWAT team.  Officers who began their service in the era before SWAT need to understand that the SWAT team is there for a purpose, and younger officers need to understand that there is no shame in waiting for the appropriate response capability. 

Deputy Michael Norris himself ensured that his death was not in vain.  He had stipulated early in his career that he would be an organ donor in the event of his death.  His wishes were carried out in the hours before he was taken off the life support system.  Deputy Norris was just at the beginning of his career in law enforcement, and at the beginning of his life with his family.  I offer my deepest sympathy to his family and his colleagues.  I know that Deputy Norris has joined that Thin Blue Line on the other side.  I continue to pray for the safety of all police officers as they do a job like no other in the world. 

Thank you for your brave service, Deputy Norris.

Skeleton In Your Closet? No Problem. Drop It Off At Your Local Goodwill!

The donation sorters at an Austin, Texas area Goodwill Thrift Store were rather shocked this past August 28th when they found a human skull in a container of miscellaneous donations.  Since skeletons and human remains are not part of the fare normally received at Goodwill, it was no surprise that the folks at Goodwill called the police right away. 

Austin police investigators have already said at this point they do not suspect foul play, but they are curious why the skull ended up as a charitable donation.  They have in fact called for assistance from the public in locating the person or persons who donated the anatomical specimen.  I hope the police are not premature in deciding that no foul play was involved.  After all, a person can only be separated from his or her head by some serious accident OR by "foul play."  The police may be operating under the assumption that whoever had the skull had a legitimate reason for owning said skull.  I suppose it is along the same line as keeping a relative's ashes after cremation.  But it may be also that someone has provided evidence in a missing person case, as well.

The most surprising thing to me is that this is the fourth skull that has been "donated" to Goodwill this year.  It turns out that three skulls were similarly donated to the Goodwill Thrift Store in Bellevue, Washington.  Police there also stated they did not suspect foul play.  Police officials said that two of the skulls were obviously parts of "clinical skeletons" that were used for medical education.  The third was that of a Native American and was believed to be as old as one hundred years.  While they may never learn who donated the skulls, the police were able to get the Native American skull to a tribal council in Washington state which would presumably be able to render proper respect to the remains, possibly even locating the tribe and family and returning the skull for traditional burial.

As the story of these grotesque donations becomes common knowledge around the country, I suppose it is not inconceivable that serial killers and criminal gangs will start dropping off all or part of their victims at their nearest Goodwill Store.  And in this new climate of human remains donations, I suppose if you have a skeleton, literally, in your closet, this might be the time to donate it to charity, as well.  Just don't ask for a receipt for income tax purposes!

Galveston Texas - September 4, 1900

September 4, 1900 fell on a Tuesday, and for the people on Galveston Island, it was a fairly ordinary Tuesday.  The islanders, at that point in time, had no idea of huge catastrophe that would befall them only four days later.

The Galveston Island of September, 1900 was a source of great pride for the state of Texas.  The port of Galveston was the only deep water port west of New Orleans at that time.  The people of Galveston enjoyed food and goods that most people in the United States could only read about.  The culture of Galveston was also a point of Texas pride, as Galveston had become a major door of immigration for people coming from Europe or Asia.  Most immigrants moved on to points north, but many immigrants remained on the island, creating a cultural experience unique to the island.  The population of the actual city of Galveston was listed at 38,000.  Several hundred more people lived along the length of the island outside of the city.  Even at this early point in Galveston's history, there were bridges connecting it to the mainland, and railroad lines carried freight to Houston and to cities northwest of the island.

Yes, Galveston Island and the city of Galveston were indeed the pearls of Texas.  But on this Tuesday, the 4th of September, clouds were beginning to gather on the horizon.  As ships and boats began arriving from the Caribbean and southern points, news gradually spread throughout the port that a hurricane had struck Cuba and was most likely headed for Galveston Island.  As the days passed, some people left the island just in case the storm did make landfall there.  But others, either not hearing the news, or not believing that the storm was to be feared, remained.

It may be difficult for us in the modern world to understand this reticence to leave the island, but in 1900 the people actually had a valid reason to stay, even as knowledge of the impending storm made its way up and down the island. In 1889 one of the most prominent meteorologists in the United States was sent to Galveston to oversee the opening of the first weather station there.  At that time the National Weather Service was a section of the United States Army Signal Corps, and Mr. Isaac Cline was one of the better trained weather forecasters of his time.  Mr. Cline spent several years studying the weather patterns and the ocean currents around Galveston.  Known widely as a very gifted forecaster due his accurate predictions of floods in Tennessee and across the lower Great Plains, any statement made by Mr. Cline concerning the weather carried a great deal of weight with city and county leaders on Galveston Island. 
 
In 1891, Isaac Cline published articles in which he stated there was little danger of a major hurricane striking Galveston.  Many residents of Galveston, some of whom had lived on the island much longer than had Cline, had been calling for local leaders to construct a seawall on the windward side of the island, that would run at least the length of the city.  Others, including city and county officials, trusted Cline and his weather expertise.  The seawall called for in the 1890's was not constructed, and the weather pattern seemed to bear out Mr. Cline's pronouncement regarding serious storms.  After all, the last hurricane of any consequence had been recorded in Spanish records more than one hundred years earlier.  But as more sailors arrived that Tuesday, September 4, 1900, as they warned the people and as they themselves sailed away into calmer waters, a storm to beat all storms bore down slowly and relentlessly on Galveston Island.

To Be Continued. 
 

End Of Watch: Constable Cleve Johnson - Titus County Constable, Precinct 2

Another Texas Police Office lost his life this week, this time as result of a traffic accident.

Constable Cleve Johnson, from the Mt. Pleasant area, had been constable of his precinct for seventeen years.  Before serving as constable, Mr. Johnson had been a Texas Peace Officer for another seventeen years.

Constable Johnson leaves behind his wife and two daughters. 

I am honored, though saddened, to mention Constable Johnson in my blog, and I extend my deepest sympathy to Mrs. Johnson, her daughters, and to the officers who lost a fellow cop yesterday.

End Of Watch: Police Chief Michael (Mike) Pimentel, Elmendorf Police Department

Police Chief Michael Pimentel, head of the Elmendorf Police Department, was killed by a petty criminal whose name will not be typed on this post, but can be seen in the several stories online and in the newspaper regarding this senseless murder.  This happened on August 24th, but I chose to hold this blog for several days because of the media frenzy, and general chaos, regarding Ferguson, Missouri.  I believed that the murder of an honorable and decent officer needed to be out from under the shadow of all the hysteria stirred up by the media in Ferguson.

Chief Mike, as he was known by many people in Elmendorf, stopped an individual who the Chief more than likely knew personally.  As the Chief started to arrest the man for an outstanding warrant for Criminal Mischief (by Graffiti), the individual began wrestling with the officer, and during this struggle, produced a weapon and shot Chief Mike several times.  The officer was alive when help arrived but died a few minutes later.  Meanwhile, the shooter meekly surrendered when confronted by officers arriving to assist Chief Mike.

Chief Michael Pimentel was not only respected, but was well-liked by many members of the community of Elmendorf.  Residents knew the shooter as well, and stated that he had had many confrontations with various officers over the past few years.  In an outpouring of grief and support I have never heard of, residents of Elmendorf replaced their porch and yard lights with blue lights, which they illuminated every night this past week in honor of their fallen police chief.  This was a very touching and poignant gesture, and I am sure the family and the colleagues of this officer must have very greatly appreciated this most unusual show of support.

Chief Mike served as a peace officer for over forty years; before that he served in Viet Nam.  There is no fathomable reason that a person wanted only for criminal mischief would decide that another person's life was worth less than the few days this criminal would spend in the county jail.  So many things I would like to say about this man, but I will not.  All I will say about him is may he rot in prison. 

Chief Pimentel was an older officer who had "seen it all," as we sometimes say.  During his years served as a peace officer he saw much improvement in police ideas, tactics, and equipment.  For instance, when he started in law enforcement, his patrol car most likely had an AM radio and a long "aerial" that stretched nearly the length of the patrol car.  During his later years as an officer he drove a car equipped with a computer, ultra-high frequency multi-channel scanning radio, and satellite navigation and tracking.  Chief Mike had also seen the face of law enforcement change as well, from a time when women and minorities were discouraged from the profession to a new age, a time when a woman is the chief law enforcement officer in Bexar County.

Michael Pimentel lived a long life full of the kind of police service that we expect from our officers.  I offer my deepest sympathy for his loved ones and friends, and for the law enforcement community.  Chief Pimentel, thank you for your service to this nation, the people of Texas, and the community of Elmendorf, to whom you gave your life in their service.