A Police Officer Convicted Of Murder

In one of the most unusual events in police history, a police officer entered an apartment she believed to be her own, saw a man in "her" apartment, saw the man get up and move in her direction, and fired her weapon, killing this man.  The only problem for this police officer was that she was not in her apartment, the man was not armed, and she did not use less-than-lethal alternatives, nor did she simply back away, set up a perimeter, and call for assistance on her radio or her cell phone.

Amber Guyger, former Dallas Police Officer, made many mistakes on the night she shot Botham Jean, mistakes that a reasonable person in her position most likely would not have made.  More specifically, she made mistakes that a reasonable police officer would not have made, or should not have made.  She went to the wrong apartment.  Yes, the door to the apartment was either unlocked or standing slightly open.  Yes, an open door to one's home is a good indication of burglary.  But, Amber Guyger opened the door and walked into what she thought was her apartment.  She immediately saw a man seated at the dining table, eating ice cream.  Does a burglar sit and eat in a house he has broken into?  Oddly enough, YES, they sometimes do.  BUT...finding a man eating ice cream could also be an opportunity for an officer to pause, take a good look around, and maybe discover that he or she was in the wrong apartment.

As an officer, if I found an open door, I immediately called for back-up.  No, not because I was afraid, but because if the burglar tried to escape, two or more officers were more likely to make the arrest successfully than would be one officer.  Even if I were at my own house and suspected a burglar to be inside, my police training would kick in, and I would follow standard procedure.  Why Amber Guyger did not, we may never know.  Did Botham Jean actually make a threatening move toward Officer Guyger?  We may never know.  But he was unarmed.  That fact alone made this situation a "don't shoot" situation.  Did he get irate that a police officer was suddenly in his home?  More likely, did he become frightened and desperately ask why the officer was in his apartment? 

If Officer Guyger was shouting something like, "what are you doing in my house?!" it would be natural for Botham Jean, or any man, to be both confused and angry.  Perhaps Mr. Jean was shouting for Guyger to get out of HIS house!  And rightfully so.  Amber Guyger said that Mr. Jean moved toward her in a threatening manner, placing her in fear for her life.  At least one crime scene specialist felt that Mr. Jean was found in a "cowering position."

After the shooting, Amber Guyger, in the recording of her 9-1-1 call, stated several times that she would probably lose her job.  Instead of being concerned with aiding Mr. Jean, Amber was worried about her future.  She also delayed physically aiding Mr. Jean for several minutes while on the phone.  Whether Jean would have survived with prompt first aid is questionable since he was shot twice in the chest, but an officer is trained to go from defensive mode to rendering aid immediately, in order to save a person's life, whether or not the person is a criminal offender, and even if that person had just moments before tried to shoot the officer.  That is what a cop is expected to do.

Regardless of what Amber Guyger did or did not do that night, she was responsible for a man's death, in what was clearly unjustifiable shooting, and she was rightly charged with murder.  It was no surprise that she was found guilty.  The real surprise to me is that she was sentenced to only ten years for that murder.  To many people, this sentence (as at least one person said) was "a slap in the face" to the victim and his family.  Others, many of then black, were happy that a white cop was held accountable for shooting an unarmed black man.  While I personally doubt that this incident was racially motivated, others think race played a big part in Officer Guyger's decision to use deadly force rather than less-than-lethal force, or even retreat to a safer area and call for help.  That is a debate that will go on for some time and may never be resolved.

There is one factor that has been overlooked by the media, or at least mostly ignored, and that is whether or not fatigue played a part in Ms. Guyger's mistaken belief that she was in her apartment, and in her decision not to call for help, in violation of standard police practice.  Would she have resorted to less-than-lethal measures if she had been thinking more clearly?  Would this terrible tragedy have happened at all if Ms. Guyger has not worked so many consecutive 12-hour shifts?  If the City of Dallas either required or encouraged Ms. Guyger to work so many hours, does the city government share some responsibility in this tragedy?  I suspect lawyers for the Jean family will pursue this angle in future litigation with the City of Dallas.

Amber Guyger made poor decisions and killed an innocent man.  Regardless of all the speculation, all of the "what ifs," Ms. Guyger committed murder and must pay the price, in this case, ten years in prison.  She received a much more lenient sentence than that which she meted out to Botham Jean.  But what a touching, inspirational moment it was when Botham's brother, Brandt, hugged Ms. Guyger and told her that he forgave her.  No one wants to go to prison, especially not a former police officer, but at least Ms. Guyger's heart can be somewhat lighter, her burden somewhat easier to bear, knowing that Botham Jean's family is able to forgive her.  And, light sentence or not, Ms. Guyger will no doubt relive this scene over and over, throughout her sentence, and probably for the remainder of her life.

May God bless this family that lost their son and brother, and may God also bless and protect Amber Guyger as she faces what may be a cop's worst nightmare, confinement in prison with hundreds of others who hate policemen.

End of Watch: Deputy Sandeep Dhaliwal, Harris County Sheriff's Office, October 27, 2019

On Friday, September 27, Harris County Sheriff's Deputy Sandeep Dhaliwal was shot and killed during a traffic stop that afternoon.  Deputy Dhaliwal was a ten-year veteran with Harris County and was the first Sihk to be hired by the Sheriff's Office.  He leaves behind his wife and three children, as well as his fellow officers with Harris County.

Deputy Dhaliwal had stopped a traffic violator, later found to be a wanted parole violator.  According to officials, there was nothing in the initial contact which indicated the shooter was being uncooperative.  As the deputy returned to his patrol car, the shooter left his own car, ran up behind the officer, and fired into the back of Deputy Dhaliwal's head.  The shooter drove away, but was later apprehended by a lone deputy who confronted the shooter face-to-face.  As usual in this situation, the shooter "meekly surrendered," not wanting to be hurt himself.

As a former police officer, I am aware of a couple of "danger points" in a police officer's career.  These danger points are well-documented.  Obviously the first year is one of the most dangerous for the new officer.  Another danger peak is around the fifth year, when an officer, particularly an officer who has experienced several dangerous events while on duty, may become over confident and cut corners on officer safety.  Finally, there is a documented tendency for officers with ten years or more experience to at times relax somewhat during potentially dangerous situations.

One thing that is difficult for many to understand is that a traffic stop is one of the most dangerous tasks a police officer performs.  A police officer never really knows who he or she is stopping, what that person may have just done, what others in the car may be wanted for, or whether the driver or someone else in the car is waiting for an opportunity to kill the officer, for whatever reason.  Just as in Deputy Dhaliwal's encounter, the "mere traffic law violator" turned out to be a wanted felon.  But for reasons known only to Deputy Dhaliwal, he turned his back on the shooter and began walking toward his patrol car.  This a mistake many an officer has made (myself included) but occasionally an officer pays for this mistake with his life.

This does not relieve the animal who did the shooting from his responsibility for murdering the officer.  Who knows why a criminal chooses to kill an officer to temporarily escape apprehension, when the criminal knows that he will be arrested only hours, or even minutes, after he murders the officer.  But this scenario plays itself out over and over across the United States each year.  A criminal murders an officer because the criminal does not want to go to jail, but then surrenders only a short time later without hurting anyone.  I will never understand this reasoning.

I am honored to lift up Deputy Sandeep Dhaliwal and thank him for his service.  I pray the the Good Shepherd holds this family in His arms, and also comforts the many officers who have lost a brother in blue.

May God bless that Thin Blue Line up yonder, one officer stronger now.

At Home In The Townhouse

Today is September 18, 2019, a Tuesday.  I am sitting on my double-lounger in my new living room.  My lovely bride and I have considered ourselves (potential) nomads for many years, and we did move a few times, to be sure.  But during the past couple of years or so, things have happened that have cemented us to this area, at least for the foreseeable future.  With the birth of our first grandchild, then my lovely bride’s new career, then the birth of a second grandchild, it became obvious that we were HERE.  I began searching for a home closer to my wife’s work location and closer to the grandchildren as well.

During the middle of August we found a townhome that we fell in love with immediately.  I was surprised that I would find a townhome appealing in any way, but this one just felt like home as soon as we walked in.  My lovely bride felt the same.  We made an offer on this home, and finally closed on September 4^th.   After closing the deal, we started moving in, just a few boxes at a time.  Then my lovely bride declared that it was time to “move in.” 

We spent our first “official” night in the townhouse on September 12^th, having moved everything except the large furniture.  We were buying new appliances for the home so that helped lighten the load.  But for the first few days we really roughed it, having no washer or dryer in the house, or even a refrigerator.  But all the roughing was smoothed by being so close to the grandchildren.  They could now visit us almost every day, instead of the nearly hour round trip from the dojo in Odessa to our old house in Midland, then the same trip when it was time to take the babies home.  Another advantage, for an oldster like myself, there is basically no yardwork.  The front is maintained by the homeowner’s association contractor.  The patio is maintained by me and my rocking chair.

Then came the day it was time to move the BIG STUFF…the double lounger and the sleeper sofa.  This was a lot of backbreaking, heavy work.  Fortunately, I missed all that.  I was safely at work.  Child A, Child B, and Child B’s husband did the heavy stuff.  When I arrived home, my beloved lounger was in place, and I didn’t have to do anything except sit down, lay back, and offer my gratitude to those who did the real work.

Not to worry.  I was not spared totally from the pain.  I had moved several truckloads of boxes over the past few days, both loading and unloading.  And I helped with the painting (yes, the house had to be painted – the new paint throughout the house was all the wrong colors, according to my lovely bride).  My wife has a great eye for detail, and a great imagination, thus she was able to visualize what the townhouse would look like with various new colors, wallpaper, back splash (?), tile, rugs, etc.  Now, just these few days later the townhouse would not be recognizable to the previous owner.  And we are not roughing it quite as much.  We now have a washer and dryer, and the Internet!  We are  really living!  The fridge is still a few days away, and a new dining table will arrive after that.  We are almost back in civilization!

My lovely bride and I have been truly blessed.  We have beautiful children, beautiful grandchildren, and now this beautiful townhouse.  In the process, Child A gained a “new home” as well, that is, his parents no longer live in his home.  I am sure he is pretty excited about that.  But he has promised to dine with us at least one evening per week.  As much as he likes his mother’s cooking, I suspect we will see him more often. 

God is good.

Midland/Odessa Mass Shooting

Another mass shooting.  Another mass shooting in TEXAS.  Another mass shooting in WEST TEXAS.  Just a few weeks ago in El Paso.  Not to mention all the other ones that taken place across the nation in the past few months.

Just a couple of days after the El Paso mass shooting, I was talking with a co-worker who told me that she was now afraid to go ANYWHERE.  Then she said, almost prophetically, "it could even happen here (Midland, TX)."  This lady went on to say that she was worried about her grandchildren every time they left the house, afraid to go to the mall, to any public event, and even to church.  I know that many other people feel the same way.  If I go out in public, will I walk into the gun sight of some angry sniper?  Can the police protect me?  Will this be the last time I see my loved ones?  Do many people ask these questions every time they leave the house?

So this past Saturday I was at home playing with the grandchildren, enjoying the company of my lovely bride and my son.  I had just talked with my mom.  I told her how great a day we were having.  We talked awhile then said our good-byes and ended the conversation.  Minutes later, around 3:40 PM, I received a call from one of my employees who told me that the hospital was under general lock down and the disaster plan had been activated.  All hospital personnel who were not actually on duty were summoned for an emergency involving multiple casualties.  Even as I hurriedly dressed for work, the news app on my phone alerted me that a mass shooting was in progress and the active shooter had not yet been located by police.  In fact, the police at this point believed there could be two or more shooters.  I raced out the door to my vehicle.  As I drove into town I wondered if the shooter might be somewhere between me and the hospital.  And I also thought, it is finally happening here!  Another mass shooting, here in my own town!

Although I cannot publish here what went on at the hospital, those of us who were called in during the emergency remained for several hours. Finally, a news alert over my telephone stated that a shooter was dead, several people were injured, including three officers, and that at least five people were dead.  Soon the news service stated that twenty or more people were injured or dead.  Shortly after that announcement, all employees who had responded to the emergency were released to go on their way.  I, and my fellow workers, had no idea if any of our friends or relatives were numbered among the injured or dead. And the thought with me must have been with the others: It happened here...it happened in my town.

I drove slowly toward home, under the speed limit, deep in thought, and probably annoying someone behind me.  Another mass shooting.  Another mass shooting in Texas.  Another mass shooting in West Texas.  The sister cities, Midland and Odessa, were still praying for the people of El Paso, had only recently sent aid to the citizens there.  Now the same thing had happened here.  People were hurting.  People were dead.  And there was that nagging fear in my heart that, it happened here finally, but was it really over?  Did the police really catch the one and only shooter?  At one point it had been believed, at least by the public, that there could be more than one shooter.  Later, the Police Chief of Odessa put a rather practical spin on it when he said that, while it was possible there was more than one shooter, no one else was shot after THE suspect was killed by police.

Now, over twenty-four hours after this tragedy, the identity of the shooter was revealed by the police.  I refuse to place his name here, but will only refer to him as the shooter, although the Odessa Police Chief phrased it better when he called the shooter an animal.  As with the last couple of mass shooters, this shooter/animal, whatever his beliefs/problems were, chose to inflict pain on others rather than either seeking help for himself, or failing that, putting himself out of his own misery without inflicting death, pain, and terror on others.

Yesterday, shortly after this attack occurred, I saw posted on Facebook these words:

You have looked in no person's eyes today who was not a child of God.

I know that is true, but I have to wonder how a child of God becomes so misguided as to carry out the carnage brought to bear on the people of the Permian Basin yesterday.  The police have not revealed the shooter's suspected motive yet, and I don't really care what his motive was.  Will knowing his, the shooter's, motive somehow make this crime easier for the survivors, the bereaved loved ones, those whose relatives are in the hospital, to accept?  Will it bring "closure?"  No to both of those.  I am sure the motive will be pretty much the same as the other shooters' motives.  The shooter was angry about something, he had been mistreated as a child, he felt the government was oppressing him, or fill in the repetitive blank.  The fact is that another mass shooting/mass murder was committed.  I cannot fathom in my mind what it is that allows a person to feel he has the right to kill others because of his own misfortune, or even just because he is a barbaric brute.  And we never know when another shooter will repeat this act in another city.  It even happen in Midland or Odessa again.



PS: 

The quick action of the police, and calls of citizens along the shooter's route, helped keep the casualties from being even higher.


May the Good Shepherd comfort all those who are hurting because of this tragedy, may He walk along with those who lost loved ones, and may He carry those who are too weak to walk on their own in the coming days.. 

A "Haunted Hotel" and A Day At Sea World

It is now about 8:30 PM and I am tired, so is my lovely bride.  But we had a great day.  Let me back up to last night.

On Tuesday night our intention was to camp at Inks Lake.  That did not work out, and is another story, but the long/short is we drove from Enchanted Rock to our would-be camp at Inks Lake, and on to "Old San Antone."  Our new destination was the Holiday Inn Express - River Walk.  The drive from Inks Lake through Kingland and on to San Antonio was such a scenic drive.  Trees and brush, the Hill Country, the occasional grand lady of a house just barely visible from the road, those beautiful ladies built in another time, so solidly that they still here, many still occupied.  And of course, many deer standing beside the road, adding a little risk to the drive.

We reached the Holiday Inn Express just after 5:30 PM.  Having climbed Enchanted Rock just hours before reaching San Antonio (that too, is another story) we were TIRED!  That is exactly how my lovely bride said it...TIRED!  We had plans for finding a nice Mexican eatery on the River Walk, listening to strolling mariachis, sipping on some cooling, Jimmy Buffet-style refreshing drinks, and engaging in small talk.  Nope...nope...nope...we were TIRED!  Umm, hello, Dominoes?  Yes, please deliver to Holiday Inn Express - River Walk.  So we had pizza and cinnamon sticks for our first dinner in San Antone in several years.  We finished dinner, turned on the TV....and passed out.  I MEAN O-U-T.  Yes, we both had a good night's sleep, one of those nights that you do not see or hear ANYTHING until a certain, stupid grackle starts cackling outside the second-floor window sometime around 9:00.  But it was a refreshing morning after a good night's sleep.

But that was the problem - I got a GOOD NIGHT'S SLEEP.  Now, why would anyone complain about getting a good night's sleep?  I will TELL you why.  My lovely bride had specifically selected this particular hotel because the building once served as the Bexar County jail.   This was from back before the turn of the 19th century to the mid- 1920s.  And like ANY good jail-turned hotel SHOULD BE, the Holiday Inn Express is HAUNTED!

Here is one link to the hotel's haunted history: https://ghostcitytours.com/san-antonio/haunted-places/haunted-hotels/holiday-inn-express/

So, I awoke this morning refreshed.  Nothing interrupted my blissful slumber, nor my lovely bride's.  I was really disappointed at not at least seeing a wisp of blue vapor float across the room.  But as I thought about it, maybe the ghosts DID try to wake me up!  I slept so well last night that Freddy Krueger  scraping his really long fingernails across my face could not have awakened me!  But, apparently Freddy did not visit because I did not have any long scratches across my face.  My lovely bride reported nothing out of the ordinary, for her part.

Having NOT been kept awake by ghosts all night, my lovely bride and I went to the Mercado to try to find a couple of items.  I found a nice hat to wear at Sea World, and my lovely bride found some things, too, including a dress for Baby Baby (our granddaughter) and some Mexican vanilla.  Then we went to a Mexican bakery and bought several excellent pastries.  I did not mind eating this rather unhealthy fare, because I knew we would walk it off at Sea World.

We arrived at Sea World around noon.  I had cleverly purchased "advance tickets" so that instead of standing in a long ticket line, we could just saunter right up to the gate, show our tickets, and slip on inside.  So, we were able to skip Zone A (the ticket booth), Zone B (I have no idea what that was), and waltz right up to Zone C, which was the entrance/metal detector line.  So we walk though the line, and toward the Beluga Whale show, when a young security officer says, "Sir, do you have a knife in your pocket?"  Well, as a matter of fact I DID have a pocket knife.  My lovely bride bought me a Swiss Army pocket knife at my last birthday.  I produced the knife and the young man (MUCH YOUNGER than my own son!!) said, "Oh, you can just take it back to your vehicle...or, we can confiscate it."  I have to complement myself here because I did not create scene at all.  I just nodded and turned away, with my lovely bride telling me she would be waiting when I got back.

I walked out the entrance, and realized that it was a good thing we had only parked a mile or so from the entrance, me not being willing to pay for "close in" parking, to which I could have "upgraded" when I purchased the tickets online.  As I contemplated the two-mile stroll to which I was committed (THEY were NOT GETTING MY KNIFE) and headed into the oblivion that was the Sea World NOT-close in parking, I heard a familiar voice.  My lovely bride wanted to Waltz Across Texas with me, out to the pickup.  I was glad though, as we talked about little things all the way, and all the way back.  By the way, here is free advice:  Park RIGHT UNDER A NUMBERED SIGN.  That way you can easily locate your vehicle, merely by walking back to the numbered sign.  Of course, you must REMEMBER the correct number, but that is where my lovely bride excels.

Once the dangerous weapon was secured, my lovely bride and I sauntered back the three-and-a-half miles to the starting gates, and once again, proceeded to Zone C.  This time there were no re-entry problems, and we were referred to the actual ticket takers.  Really, they SCAN the tickets these days.  I had cleverly stored our ticket on my "smart phone."  So the young lady (again, MUCH YOUNGER than my daughter!) scanned my phone.  Then she scanned it again.  Then she scanned it yet AGAIN!  Being very perceptive, I realized there was some problem.  Yes, the young lady said, my phone screen was TOO DARK to scan.  So apparently my smart phone is too dum to lighten the screen during ticket scannings.  So, we were sent to the "Resolution Desk."  Bear in mind, I had loaded the ticket into my phone so that there would be no delay in entering the park.

At the Resolution Desk, the young lady (same parenthetical comment as above) scanned my phone.  She then said, "These tickets will not scan."  Umm, nope, they will not.  So the young lady prints out the tickets, and my lovely bride and I saunter gaily back to the starting line.  The first young lady smiles and takes our newly printed tickets.  THEY WILL NOT SCAN!!  Back to the Resolution Desk.

I will say that the junior high-aged girl at the Resolution Desk immediately recognized the problem this second time around.  She said said sweetly, "Oh, these are ADVANCE TICKETS but you just purchased them last night."  I said that this was indeed the case.  She said, "But you can't use advance tickets until twenty-four hours AFTER you buy them."  Through the growing red fog building up in my head, I heard the young lady say, "But for only an extra five dollars each, you can use these passes today."  Her voice was soooo sweet.  Before I could respond, I heard my lovely bride say, "Yes, that is perfect."  She shelled out the ten dollars (plus eighty-two cents tax), and we FINALLY passed through those pearly...er, I mean silver, gates.  We were IN Sea World!!

The first thing we did was purchase two large Sea World drink cups, which allowed the holder to get 99-cent refills.  These cups turned out to be worth their weight in gold as the humidity began smothering us.  Be that as it may, we were so happy to be at Sea World, and I was happy that I still had my Swiss Army knife.  We went to the Beluga/Dolphin show, which was quite spectacular.  It is so amazing what they can teach the animals to do, and what the animals can teach the audience to do.  By the end of the show, perfectly normal, sane adults were waving their arms, throwing their hands over their shoulders, and doing many other things as well.  I am sure that, along with the fish the whales are given as treats, the whales are also thrilled by the things they can train a thousand strange humans to do in just thirty minutes!

After leaving Beluga Stadium, my lovely bride and I went to a nearby restaurant and had our noon meal.  We had barbecue ribs, a couple of "sides," and some watermelon.  It was really more food than we wanted, but good anyway.  After lunch, we made our way to Rio Loco, the giant water-tube ride.  My lovely bride was a little hesitant but soon we were seated in the giant tube with four other people, and were headed down Rio Loco.  It was a fun ride, but not dangerous in the least.  The best thing was that we all got completely drenched by a waterfall as we floated down the river.  It was great to be so cool once again.

After riding the Rio Loco, I talked my lovely bride into riding the Great White Shark roller coaster.  She thought hard about it, as she listened to screaming riders race past.  Finally she agreed to the ride.  Actually, she became rather excited about it.  Then I noticed there was not a waiting line.  Cool!  So we walked through the several empty stalls and found that only the people climbing on the roller coaster just now were ahead of us.  The ride lasted less than two minutes, and it was our turn.  My lovely bride and I strapped ourselves in.  The attendant checked our seats to be sure we were locked in, then it was time to go.  This ride is actually a roller coaster that has no body, only rows of seats suspended from the coaster track.  So we were strapped in and the ride began moving forward.

The roller coaster climbed slowly to the top of the first tower, then "clank" and we were rolling downhill.  Slow at first, but moving fifty miles per hour or so within the next few seconds.  I cannot begin to describe the twists and turns, except to say that the spine-crushing, bone-jarring maneuvers must be similar to the sensations felt by jet fighter pilots as the after-burner kicks in while the plane is twisting, turning, and diving.  After one last loop and twist, the Great White Shark comes to a screeching stop in just seconds, almost assuring that a visit to the chiropractor is in order ASAP.  I asked my lovely bride if she was alright, and to my surprise, she yelled, "Let's go AGAIN!"  I admit I was surprised.  It would not have been anymore surprising if the Devil was getting snow at that moment!  But, back we went!  And there was no waiting.

That second ride on the Great White Shark proved to be the last ride of the day.  We gathered ourselves and walked over the the Penguin exhibit.  This of course is inside a highly air conditioned building that is equipped with a moving sidewalk.  That's right.  A conveyor.  We stood and watched as the penguins drifted slowly by.  My lovely bride and I drank in the cool air, and revived ourselves.  We then went to the puffin exhibit and sat on the bench there for another twenty minutes or so.  At that point we were cooled off, and we figured we could walk back across Sea World, and then walk the four miles back to our pickup.  Along the way, though, my lovely bride found a shade and asked me to come pick her up when I got to the pickup.  I helped her sit down on a rock bench, then I started on the final two mile leg of the walk to our vehicle.  Soon I had my lovely bride in the truck and we were headed back to the (SUPPOSEDLY) haunted hotel.

It turns out I may have griped about the lack of ghosts too soon.  When we returned to our room and opened the door, the air conditioner was off.  We had left it on automatic earlier in the day.  So I adjusted the thermostat to 65 but nothing happened.  I waited a few minutes, then lowered the control to 59!  The machine still would not work.  So I have to believe that the ghosts, upset both because they could not wake me up last night AND because I had doubted their presence, "fixed" the air conditioning.  To back up this theory, the maintenance man arrived quickly but soon found that there was nothing "wrong" with the air conditioner.  He just shrugged his shoulders and said he would report the problem to the front desk.  A few minutes later we were offered, and accepted, another room.  One door down.  The air conditioning in the new room is working like a charm.  As I finish this, I will go to the front desk to collect an electric blanket.  And once again, I believe the ghosts will not bother me tonight.  IT IS TOO COLD IN HERE.

Tomorrow, we venture to Aquatica.  And to those looking for a haunted hotel, I can't recommend this one, unless the ghost of the air conditioner in Room 207 should choose to jam up the thermostat.

Baby Baby Goes Camping With Honey and Poppee

My Lovely Bride and I decided to make this our summer of many camping trips.  To that purpose we bought a cool tent that fits right on the bed of our pickup.  It is just a basic tent, but it is the only way I can get my Lovely Bride to camp out doors.  You see, since this tent is in the pickup bed, my Lovely Bride believes snakes will not be able to get in.  Shhhh...don't tell her that snakes can climb ladders! But, she insists, the snakes cannot unzip the mesh door and crawl into the tent.  That is the big thing for her.

So Saturday just past, my Lovely Bride, myself, and Baby Baby set out on our adventure.  We were headed to Fort Davis and our destination: Davis Mountains State Park.  We picked up Baby Baby at 10:00 AM at her other grandparents' home.  Baby Baby was still asleep when we arrived, but in a few minutes she was dressed, and we were ready to go...er, to Academy Sports.  We still had a couple of items to buy to make our camping "kit" complete.  THEN, we were ready to go...to Walmart.  We had to buy a couple more items for camping, and some food supplies, because there were no fires allowed in the park.  All the meals would be cold.  Oh well, that's the price of "roughing it."  

With all the supplies bought and stowed, we were ready to GO....to Auto Zone.  There was one more thing I needed, and Walmart let me down.  I needed a power supply to run my CPAP machine.  Yep, there would be no camping if a "bear" were sleeping all night in the truck tent.  BTW, I do not believe I have a snoring problem.  It is only my son, my daughter, all my relatives, a couple of my friends, and of course, my Lovely Bride, who believe that I have a snoring problem.  I actually sleep very well all night whether or not I have a CPAP.  But, back to my story, the camping trip would not happen unless I could find that power supply.  So, after leaving Walmart, we found the item at Auto Zone, and FINALLY we were ready TO GO!!!!!!!

I told you we picked up Baby Baby at 10:00 AM.  Well, after all the shopping and running around Midland, and finally pointing the pickup to the west, it was only 11:30.  I swear it felt like afternoon! But in the company of my Lovely Bride and Baby Baby, all the bother of shopping on a Saturday morning faded away.  All the way down I-20 West we were entertained by Baby Baby telling and retelling her stories, such as The Grumpy Monkey or Night Animals.  Sometimes my Lovely Bride would read the stories to her, and sometimes Baby Baby would make up her own stories, in which of course, she was the main character!  The drive "West of the Pecos" did not seem that long at all.

As we turned south at Pecos, drove a ways, and finally drew near to I-10, we passed through the little village of Saragosa, the village so strong that the people came through a tornado's direct hit several years ago, and re-built that shining white shrine, the Nuestra Senora de Gudalupe.  Even these more than three decades later, it is still a very stirring sight as one crosses the Trans-Pecos desert.  Another half-hour's drive found us at Balmorhea.  We drove through this little tourist trap and on through Toyahvale, where the Balmorhea State Park is located, then we were in the foothills of the Davis Mountains.

It was as we drove through the mountains that Baby Baby began to really notice the passing scenery.  Then she got excited, having a blast, yelling, "Turn Poppee! Tuuurrrnnn!!"  Then she would tell Poppee how great a driver he was.  Then we would hit more turns and twists with Baby Baby yelling, "Yeehaahhhh, way to drive, Poppee!!"  At times, my Lovely Bride was yelling other things, which I will not repeat in this family-oriented venue.  But we survived the trip through the foothills, across Wild Rose Pass, and into the Davis Mountains.  We were all in one piece as we entered Davis Mountains State Park and it was only about 2:30 PM.  I am pretty sure we flew part of the way!

Upon arriving at Davis Mountains Park headquarters, we secured our permit and went to our reserved campsite.  It was beautifully green, plush, AND located within one hundred feet of the restrooms.  Like I said, we like to really rough it when we camp.  But we found one little, tiny problem.  The parking spaces were too far from the picnic tables and trees.  So, I decided to improvise...by driving beyond the boulders marking the boundaries of the parking lot.  I backed right up to the trees, just a few feet away from the table, and we unloaded our camping supplies.  

Baby Baby was so excited.  She ran to and fro yelling, "We are going camping! We are going camping!"  I told her, "No Baby Baby, we are  not GOING CAMPING, we are HERE!"  As we unpacked I noticed that the passing park "hosts" kept glancing our way, and at the same time, I could see that I was the only vehicle that had driven beyond the boulders.  It would not have been too bad, except I had by now unloaded everything, and we were ready to begin setting up the tent.  Once the tent was up, there would not be any going back, as it were.

It was at this point that the two park hosts (a mature couple - about OUR AGE - who volunteered in the park to assist guests, direct visitors to the various hiking trails and natural sights, and to let errant drivers know that they were not supposed to be off the pavement) came over and made our acquaintance.  Luckily, however, these volunteers were not "enforcement agents."  They merely advised me that I had violated park rules by leaving the pavement, and that I should speak with the actual Park Ranger at headquarters to rectify the situation.  Not wanting to pay a fine, I followed their advice.  At Headquarters, I was politely offered an alternate campsite that allowed access right up to the picnic table.  

So, I loaded up the truck, moved to the new site, unloaded the truck AGAIN, and we were there - at camp.  Baby Baby was so excited to be "going camping."  She helped my Lovely Bride and I set up the camping area, then she built a "fire" by gathering small twigs and arranging them in the classic campfire style, all the while singing (LOUDLY!) I am building a fire, I am building a fire, I am building a fire, I am building a fire, I am building a fire!"  Then, verse two: "I am building a fire, I am building a fire, I am building a fire, I am building a fire, I am building a fire."  As Baby Baby started the THIRD verse, "I am building a fire, I am building a fire, I am building a fire" I recovered my strength rapidly (cough, cough) and decided to harmonize with Baby Baby.  I took a deep breath, leaned my head back, and started to belt out "I am building a fire!!" when I heard my Lovely Bride yell, "Leah!! That's enough! THAT IS EEE-NUFF!!"  I glanced at my Lovely Bride, saw fangs showing and veins bulging, and thought to myself that I probably would NOT harmonize with Baby Baby just now.

My Lovely Bride, of course, would NEVER yell at Baby Baby.  Instead, she REDIRECTED Baby Baby into another activity.  An educational activity, actually.  I heard her ask, "Leah, do you know what to do if you see a snake?"  Leah said, "Run away!"  Good answer I thought.  No, not good answer.  My Lovely Bride very carefully taught the little girl to slowly back away and say, "Honey? It's a snake!"  So, using a rock in the middle of the road for a snake, Honey and  Baby Baby practiced.  Baby Baby would "see" the "snake," back away slowly, and say "Honey, I see a snake!" After about half an hour of this, Baby Baby knew EXACTLY what to do if she should see a snake:  RUUUNNNN!!!!

Baby Baby really loved the tent.  That was her favorite part of camping out.  She normally uses all tricks in her power to keep us from putting her to bed at her bed time.  She wants to have another tea party.  She wants to watch Peppa Pig or Paw Patrol.  Again.  And one more time.  Then she needs to brush her teeth.  Then she needs to wash them again.  But not tonight!  Tonight (by that I mean by 4:00 o'clock in the afternoon) Baby Baby was "tired" and "sleepy" and "needed to go to bed."  Two hours later Baby Baby was still trying to go to bed.  She wanted to sleep in the tent.  There is no camp out unless one sleeps in a tent.  Baby Baby knew this, and time was getting short.  She kept turning on her little "torch."  Honey would have to yell...er...I mean tell Baby Baby not to turn on the light until it was dark outside.  By 4:05 PM it was dark, if you ask Baby Baby.  This went on for several hours, until it really did get dark.  Finally Baby Baby was able to turn on her torch.  And she was able, after taking a shower, to finally go into the tent with my Lovely Bride.

While both my "girls" were in the tent, I sat out in the twilight, enjoying the cooling breeze, and listening to the wildlife.  And getting mad.  The wildlife were a bunch of kids who kept yelling and hooting, and no doubt scaring the real wildlife away for miles around.  But finally quiet settled down over the campground, except for a constant "click...click...click...click."  With each click our little truck tent would either glow a soft grey and blue, or would fade to pitch black.  Light, dark, light, dark, light, dark..."LEAH!!"  Finally my Lovely Bride threatened to take away Baby Baby's torch.  Then there was dark...and quiet.

So I was sitting peacefully in the dark, listening to the night sounds, watching bats fly in what was left of the twilight, and staring at the stars...the most spectacular starscape I had seen in quite some time.  With no campfires, and just the subdued lighting inside the various tents, there was nothing to blot out the starlight.  I was at such peace with myself, and with the mountains.  And just as I was really feeling the spiritual connection with the majesty of those ancient hills, I heard two little steps, then something brushed lightly (and FURRILY) against my foot.  As I said, the stars were very bright, and there was just enough light to reveal a small little black silhouette.  There was also just enough light to reveal that the little silhouette had a bright white vertical stripe on its posterior.  SKUNK!!!  I mean ... skunk...  

I did not jump or yell.  I decided that the best way to handle this situation was to pretend that the pole kitty was just a kitty.  So I spoke quietly.  I said, "Hello Mr. Skunk.  I just wanted you to know I was sitting here."  The little skunk was surprised, but not really startled.  It did not run, but rather just sort of ambled away; however, that vertical stripe was now pointed directly at my forehead.  I just sat in my chair and waited for the worst.  But the skunk just walked on and began foraging at the base of a nearby oak tree.  Neither wanting to provoke a skunk shower nor alarm anyone inside the tent, I turned on a small strobe light and aimed it in the little critter's direction.  That was just enough to encourage the camp guest to move on to parts outside the effective range of its special weapon.

After making sure that the skunk was gone, I got into the tent.  Baby Baby was all excited about the "night animal" that had visited our campsite.  I have to admit I was a little excited too, but happy that the skunk had gone on its way.  After we had a good laugh over the skunk adventure, we got down to the serious business of sleeping.  I turned on the power supply we had purchased at Auto Zone, hooked it up to my CPAP, and entered into glorious (and snore-free) slumber.  At last, a good night's sleep.  WRONG!  Within an hour or so the CPAP went dead.  There was nothing wrong with the power supply, and there was nothing wrong with the CPAP, but the power inverter had burned out, never to regain life.  And just like that I was snoring.  I went to sleep anyway.  I have no idea whether or not anyone else slept that night, but I DO know that not one single, solitary night animal approached within two miles of the snoring tent on top of the black pickup.

Sunday morning arrived pretty early.  We got up, had a cold breakfast of cereal, then we broke camp.  Once again Baby Baby was quite helpful in this operation.  Our next destination was Balmorhea State Park, where we would swim in Solomon Spring.  Baby Baby was very excited about going swimming.  She was excited right up to the minute she and my Lovely Bride entered the water.  It was then that Baby Baby realized FISH were swimming in the water.  Then she had a meltdown!  She started yelling and shrieking!  She screamed that the fish had teeth, and that they would bite her.  When she was assured that the little pupfish and perch had no teeth, she screamed again.  This time she was certain passing turtles would bite off her toes.  When my Lovely Bride explained to her that the turtles were afraid of people and would swim away, Baby Baby then began crying again.  It turns out that she did not want the sharks to eat her.  My Lovely Bride was able finally to allay all the baby's fears, and they went into the water.  As soon as Baby Baby realized that the fish weren't eating her toes, she began to enjoy being in the water.  I spent a little time snorkeling in the spring, then it was time to eat.

After lunch, it was obvious that Baby Baby was getting tired and cranky.  And she wanted to go home to see Mommy/Daddy.  We packed up our belongings and headed back to Odessa.  Traffic was a little hairy, but we didn't have any trouble.  Baby Baby was soon home, reunited with her parents.  We gave her hugs and kisses and released our little charge to her parents.  This, though necessary, is still a little sad.  Although my Lovely Bride and I talked about the trip and good times we had, it was still just a little quiet without Baby Baby in the back seat.

We finally arrived home late Sunday evening.  We were both exhausted but it had been a great weekend trip.  I had just enough strength in reserve to unload the pickup, store the gear, and bring the 

other things inside.  But the fun we had, the excitement in our Baby Baby's eyes, the closeness of being together in such a peaceful place, made all the loading and unloading worthwhile.  We can't wait to go camping again.  This time, Baby Baby will have her own sleeping bag.  And I will have a reliable means of running my CPAP machine.  Not that I snore, mind you, just that other people THINK I do.

It's Poppee's Birthday!!!!!

I have not been very surprised on my birthday for several years, or even decades! But I got a good surprise for my birthday today.  But first, let me say yes, I know today was not my birthday...it was the anniversary of my birthday.  Yeah, yeah.  We only have ONE birthday, I know.  So what?

But, back to my story...or actually to the background of my story.  At my age I am no longer that happy about having another birthday (anniversary), but also at my age, I realize the alternative to having more birthdays is not a pleasant one.  So when I awoke this morning, I knew it was my birthday, but not necessarily a happy one.  I guess it is like a Monday morning.  I might be glad to awaken to another day, but that does not mean it is going to be a happy Monday.  Same principle.

But NOT this time.

My lovely bride called me at around 11:30 AM and said she would be at my office about lunch time.  I could hear the voice of my Baby Baby in the car, as well as the shrieking of my Baby Derek, who cannot stand to ride in any car seat not suitable for the Queen of England, nay, even the princess of The Princess and The Pea fame.  But distinguishable in between his majesty's shrieks, Baby Baby was able to reveal to me, much to my lovely bride's chagrin, that they were all on the way to a local grocery store to buy a birthday cake for me.  Baby Baby was sooooo excited.  Honey (my lovely bride's "grandmother name") was busily shushing Baby Baby, but the proverbial cat was already out of the proverbial bag.

Honey, Baby Baby, and his majesty Baby Derek arrived about forty-five minutes later.  I knew they were here because I could hear Baby Baby proclaiming loudly down the hallway that she was bringing her Poppee a birthday cake.  The three of them walked into my temporary office and Baby Baby anxiously demanded that Honey show me the cake.  Baby Baby had picked out the cake herself, and she was sooooooo excited!!!!!!

It turns out that Baby Baby looked through several cake racks before finding the perfect cake for me.  She checked out and rejected several cakes but then said, "Honey, get that one!  He'll love it! Poppee will love it!!"  The cake had John Deere green and yellow icing and came with a dump truck and a bulldozer.  So we cut some pieces of the cake and headed for the hospital cafeteria with Baby Baby telling everyone all up and down the hallway that it was Poppee's birthday and SHE had gotten Poppee some birthday cake.  And, yes, she had picked it out HERSELF.  By the time we reached the cafeteria well over two hundred people knew that I was having my BIG DAY today!!!!

We ate our lunch, but Baby Baby could hardly contain herself long enough to finish her favorite food, "shushee" (sushi). Usually she eats shushee by the mouthful but today she could only manage about two shushee rolls before she demanded that we eat the birthday cake we had brought with us to the cafeteria.  It was great.  Between each bite of shushee, Baby Baby told anyone who would listen, and everyone who would not as well, that this was Poppee's birthday and SHE had picked out the cake.  And the cake had a TRUCK AND A BULLDOZER on it!!!  In just a few minutes the cake was gone, Baby Baby had a green and yellow clown face around her mouth, and even Sir Derek was licking green icing off his lips.

Yes, this was one of the best birthday surprises I have ever had, and I will treasure it for all my remaining birthday anniversaries.  All too soon my lunch hour was over.  We walked out of the hospital to Honey's car, and all the way...yes, you guessed it...Baby Baby told anyone within earshot that it was Poppee's birthday!!!!!

Thanks to my lovely bride, and my Baby Derek, and especially to Baby Baby.  What a great birthday surprise for a person who just turned 29...or so.

PS: I am playing with my new set of John Deere equipment.  What a GREAT birthday...er...anniversary!!!

End Of Watch: Corporal Jose Espericueta, Mission Police Department - June 20, 2019

This past Thursday night Corporal Jose Espericueta was killed after he and other officers pursued a man who had just previously fired gunshots near his mother.  As officers were chasing him, the offender turned and fired shots, striking the Corporal.  Corporal Espericueta and other officers returned fire, striking the suspect.  Corporal Espericueta and the suspect both passed away from their injuries.

Cpl. Espericueta was the first officer killed in Mission in over four decades, although several officers have been killed over the years in that area of South Texas.  He left behind his family, including three children, as well as his colleagues at the Mission Police Department.  Cpl. Espericueta was a decorated police officer who had saved a person from a fire about two years earlier.  He was known as "Speedy" by his fellow officers.

Domestic disturbances are probably the most dangerous calls for police officers, and account for a large portion of line-of-duty deaths.  Unfortunately, police officers are as vulnerable as the household members themselves because officers most often approach these situations with the least force possible, meaning that two to four patrol officers respond with just their sidearms.  This level of force, in the "text book" world, is supposedly "enough" force to calm the situation, or subdue an irate husband, if the situation cannot be resolved short of an arrest.  But in the real world, very few situations are actually resolved "by the book."  And in some cases, the presence of the police seems to cause some offenders to lose all reason, with fatal results, sometimes for the offender, and sometimes for the responding officers.

The shooter in this case had no violent crimes in his background - except for a couple situations involving - yes, his mother- so the escalation from a small-time offenses to capital murder for this man occurred suddenly, costing the lives of both this criminal and the good officer who tried to arrest him without harming him.

I still recall a training film we all watched in the police academy I attended in 1981, a film dealing with tactics with which to respond specifically to domestic violence.  One of the first lines in the movie script was something like "domestic violence has become a routine call for police officers.  Once the routine call is received, police officers routinely respond, and routinely die..."  The tactics outlined in this film, along with the physical, hands-on training in the academy gym, were designed to reduce the risk of getting killed when responding the domestic calls by providing officers with viable options.

In the end, however, police officers still respond frequently, routinely, to these calls and still routinely die.  I personally found that there were so many uncontrollable variables that the risk to officers responding to domestic calls could only be reduced marginally, short of responding with a SWAT team.  The problem with a SWAT-like approach to domestic situations is that the vast majority of these calls do not end in gunfire; therefore, the community would not support such a drastic response every time domestic violence was reported.

I cannot second-guess the response of the Mission officers to the particular threat at hand that fateful night.  Should they have called a SWAT team?  It may be that the situation was too fluid at the moment of confrontation.  Without an effective perimeter, a SWAT team might not be the appropriate response.  The suspect was running away, but since shots were fired prior to law enforcement's arrival, officers should have expected him to be armed.  Again, I cannot second-guess these officers and their response.  I, in fact, have responded to similar situations, chased offenders (and ANY offender COULD be armed) and not been shot, even though I did not use the best tactics available.  Not that I was a good officer, but that the person just did not elect to shoot me. 

My prayers go out to the family of Corporal Espericueta.  The funeral was several days ago, but the loss has only begun to be real for those left behind.  The Thin Blue Line in heaven has one more member now.  May the Good Lord comfort those who remain.

God Bless all police officers, keep them safe, and carry those Home who are called on to give that Last Full Measure of Devotion so often required of those brave men and women who have chosen this honorable but dangerous calling.

A Very Special Fathers Day

One of the most popular verses in the Bible, and one of my favorites, is John 3:16 where we are told "For God so loved the world that he gave his only begotten Son, that whosoever believes in Him shall not perish, but will have everlasting life."

Today is Fathers Day, and today in our church service, the preacher pointed out that God loved man so much that he gave his own Son to die for everyone, those who were alive in the days of Jesus, those who came afterwards, and to those who came before as well.  Jesus, the minister told us, is the Lamb of God, the ultimate sacrifice for all mankind.  The Hebrew people had sacrificed lambs since ancient times, but those lambs did not take away all their sin; that's why there were yearly sacrifices, sacrifices on special occasions, and sacrifices when a person sinned.  For sin, only the blood of a lamb could atone, but not permanently.

God wanted to draw man to him, and wanted no one to perish.  For reasons that are God's own (I make no claim to fully understand all this - that is for the  theologians) the only offering that could save mankind forever (give everlasting life) was the ultimate sacrifice - God's own Son dying on the cross.  Thus, the true Father gave the perfect and everlasting gift to men  While our special day of remembrance, known as Fathers Day, was not ordained by God, the principle of a father giving his best gift to his children was firmly established in God given his Son for us.

To dramatize this lesson in a practical, an amusing, and a very poignant way, the minister had all the fathers in the audience stand, and all the little children presented each father with a necktie.  It was so cute but also touching, to watch these little ones laughing with glee as they rushed from father to father handing neckties of varying designs.  They loved it more than the fathers did, I believe, and that was a lot!  It is more blessed to give than to receive, I have heard many times, and these children got a lot of joy out of giving away their gifts.  Everyone there this morning was blessed by this living Bible lesson.

Fathers who give good gifts to their children, not just "presents," but love, protection, training, and yes, discipline, are along with mothers, responsible for providing their children with a good foundation - the upbringing that will help the children to grow into loving adults who will in time care for their own children.  And a father's love for his children doesn't stop when the children themselves become adults.  Fathers love their children so much that they would give any good gift that they could, even give their life for their children, if that ever became necessary, as it did for the Father, who gave His Son to save each of us.  And, just as children give gifts to honor their fathers on Fathers Day, we give gifts, our love and our service, to our honor Father in Heaven, and not just on Fathers Day, but everyday.

Happy Fathers Day to all fathers, and to our Father as well.

EOW: Sheriff Gary Painter, Midland County Sheriff - 26 May, 2019

Note: Usually I reserve End Of Watch (EOW) posts for peace officers and other public servants who lose their lives in the line of duty.  I am making an exception today.  Sheriff Gary Painter did not die during the performance of his duties, but he truly gave his life to the people of Midland County while serving as sheriff for over three decades.  I believe it is right to honor Sheriff Gary Painter with an EOW post on these pages.

I had awakened for some reason around 4 AM this Sunday, and I happened to glance at my I - phone which was lying on a night stand.  The news alert app was flashing, and I opened it out of habit.  There was Sheriff Painter's picture, and all I could make out of the news headline were the words "passes away."  Grabbing my glasses, I read the headline again...yes, Sheriff Gary Painter had died in his sleep just after midnight...

In the days since Sheriff Painter's passing, many law officers and others have written page after page expressing both their shock at his sudden death, and their praise for the life of the great man and his career, but especially of his service to the community.  Gary Painter served as a member of the United States Marines during the Vietnam War.  After his service in the armed forces, Mr. Painter joined the Texas Department of Public Safety.  He later served as a sheriff's deputy in two West Texas counties before joining the Midland County Sheriff's Office in 1982.  Just three years later he ran for, and was elected, Sheriff in 1985.  He served in that capacity ever since.

As I said, many peace officers and local dignitaries have already written about Gary Painter, and there is nothing I can add regarding Sheriff Painter's career.  Instead I will just mention a couple of contacts I had with Sheriff Painter over the years.  I met Sheriff Painter in 1991 when I was thinking about applying with the Sheriff's Office for employment.  Although I never went to work for the Sheriff's Office, I was instantly impressed with Sheriff Painter.  And this is no exaggeration...the Sheriff never forgot my name or my face.  He always called me Mr. Meeks after that first meeting.

A year or so later I bumped into the Sheriff and asked his feelings about the (then) new law allowing concealed firearm carry for those who sought and obtained a gun permit.  Sheriff Painter said, "Personally I don't believe in "state license" to carry a gun.  The United States Constitution gives everyone the right to bear arms, and I never did see how Texas or ANY state could require its citizens to get a license to carry a gun."  Gary Painter was a very strong supporter of the Second Amendment, as well as all the amendments that make up the Bill of Rights.  I loved it!  I never voted for any other candidate for sheriff after that.

In 1999, I was employed with Texas Children's Protective Services. I had transferred back to Midland after working in the Austin office for nearly two years.  I had not seen the Sheriff since my encounter with him in 1992.  I happened to be in the Midland County courthouse for one reason or another, and I saw Sheriff Painter in one of the hallways.  I waved at him and he said, "Hello, Mr. Meeks."  After that I was convinced he had a near photographic memory, at least a great memory of faces, and the names that went with those faces.

One day I saw another side of Sheriff Gary Painter.  On October 9, 2014 at around 1:00 PM I passed sheriff's deputy Sergeant Michael Naylor in the emergency room at our local hospital.  Mike had just received an emergency call ever his radio, and the last thing I said to him was "Be careful!"  Less than an hour later Michael Naylor was dead, slain by barricaded suspect even as Sergeant Naylor was trying to talk him into peaceful surrender.  At Sergeant Naylor's funeral, Sheriff Painter seemed like he had lost his own family member as he honored the fallen deputy, then did a final role call for Sergeant Naylor.  That day Sheriff Painter openly wept as he held Mrs. Naylor in his arms.  He openly prayed for her and all those hurting that day, and he openly acknowledged that only God could truly comfort Michael's loved ones in those first dark hours and days after his death.

Little did I know that only seven days ago I would see Sheriff Painter for the last time.  That day, the Sheriff came to the local emergency room after the patrol vehicle one of his deputies was driving was struck by a train, as the deputy was responding to an emergency call.  As on the day Sergeant Naylor died, Sheriff Painter was concerned about the injured deputy almost as if the deputy has been his own son.  The Sheriff frantically asked me if he could leave his pickup parked at the emergency entrance briefly while he went to check on the deputy.  I told him that it was fine.  Sheriff Painter then went into the emergency room.  Nearly half an hour later Sheriff Painter came out and moved his pickup, but only to a nearby law enforcement parking slot.  Then he was back inside.  Very luckily, the officer escaped a potentially fatal accident with only minor cuts and bruises.  But the Sheriff did not leave the hospital until he knew the deputy was safe.

Sheriff Gary Painter, as the many tributes tell us, was well respected within local, state, and national law enforcement circles, and rightly so, but he was respected by civilians as well.  As prominent as he was in law enforcement, and as busy as he was with his duties, Sheriff Painter was never too busy to help people in need.  I recall one day, now over a decade ago, that a house was on fire near my residence.  I happened to be driving by and I saw that there was only one fire truck on the scene, and the firemen were still pulling hose and equipment off the fire engine.  They had only just arrived.  The next "unit" to arrive was Sheriff Painter.  Without hesitation, he joined the volunteer firemen in their effort to save the house.  Unfortunately, the house was nearly fully engulfed when that first truck arrived, and was a total loss when the fire was finally extinguished.  But to the end, there was Sheriff Painter, helping when he could, and comforting the family when it was obvious that the home could not be saved.

Sheriff Painter will be laid to rest tomorrow.  I pray that the Good Shepherd continue to comfort his family, his loved ones, and his officers as they all carry on without him.  The Thin Blue Line in Heaven has one more officer in its midst tonight, a bigger-than-life lawman, and a true servant of the people of Midland County.

End of Watch: March 24, 2019 - Deputy Sheriff Peter Herrera, El Paso County Sheriff's Office, El Paso, TX

Deputy Sheriff Peter Herrera gave his life in the line of duty.  He was shot multiple times by a felon, but survived initially.  He was in critical condition but it appeared that he would likely survive, his body armor having stopped most of the bullets.  Unfortunately, that assessment was premature.  Deputy Herrera died two days later.

In just over two weeks, two Texas peace officers lost their lives.  First, Officer Heidelberg in Midland, then Deputy Herrera.  Officer Heidelberg, as I noted in a previous blog, lost his life due to one of the stupidest acts of a gun-owner that I have ever heard of in fifty years of living.  Deputy Herrera lost his life because of the stupidity a felon who was "brave enough" to ambush a lone officer but, as is so often the case, meekly surrendered "without incident" when confronted by two or more officers.  To be honest, I was just too heart-sick to publish this post on March 24th.

On March 22,  Deputy Herrera found himself in a situation that many officers face, and quite often come out on the losing end.  The problem: How to approach an "innocent citizen" in a dangerous situation, but one which may not be perceived as dangerous by the average person; the very MINOR offense, for instance, of having one tail light out on your car.  To the average person in this situation, a cop approaching the citizen with gun drawn would be "too much."  After all, the only "violation" is a minor traffic offense.  A police officer has to balance the risk to his own safety with the need to appear as "nonthreatening" as possible to the citizen.  To further complicate the situation, the officer actually does not know if he is approaching the "average citizen" or a felon who is violating his parole and thus will do anything not to go back to prison.

Deputy Herrera must have felt that he could not justify having his gun drawn when he stopped the man who would in seconds become his killer.  Deputy Herrera followed procedure by calling in his location and the description of the vehicle.  That was probably his last radio call.  As he approached the vehicle, the driver stepped out and immediately emptied his semi-automatic pistol's magazine.  Most of the shots struck Deputy Herrera's chest, at least one shot striking the officer's head, and other shots hitting his arms.  The deputy was not able to return fire, or even to draw his own weapon.  The suspect and his companion were found hiding in a shed a short time later, and of course, surrendered, probably yelling,"Don't shoot! Don't shoot!"  And with the restraint demanded of professional peace officers, no officer did what many people would want to do to someone who had just killed a friend.  The suspect was not shot, was not even injured. 

I was in Deputy Herrera's situation many times.  I have pulled over vehicles for minor equipment infractions during the hours of darkness, when most, but not all, "law abiding citizens" are usually at home in bed.  I had good police trainers, and had read several books concerning police survival "on the streets."  I am in no way criticizing Deputy Herrera's actions or his training, just talking about my own experience.  There were times that I approached vehicles during the night with my weapon somewhere other than in the belt holster.  I won't elaborate further, but my gun was ready to go.  But there were also many times that I felt such an approach to be unjustifiable.  Nonetheless, I, like Deputy Herrera, had no idea whether or not the driver, or someone else in the car, was about to shoot or otherwise try to harm me. 

The truth is that no officer can know when a violator (major or minor offender) will shoot at him/her.  And, as the Midland incident reiterated, an officer can not even be sure when a home-owner will shoot him/her.  Law enforcement is a dangerous profession, and as long as police officers are expected to take the least offensive approach possible, to appear as non-threatening as possible, criminals will always have the edge.  Nonetheless, officers continue to do their job every day, and new officers daily join the ranks of the Thin Blue Line.  And, officers will continue to give their lives in the service of their communities and nation.

Deputy Herrera leaves behind his wife, his loved ones, and his fellow officers at the El Paso County Sheriff's Office.  I am proud to honor Deputy Peter Herrera here, and to thank him for his eleven years of service to the people of El Paso and El Paso County.

Sweet Dreams of You: Patsy Cline - March 5, 1963

(This post was intended to run on March 5th but was postponed in respect of the fallen Midland Police Officer Nathan Heidelberg, who gave his life in the service of his community during the early hours of March 5th. )

On this day in 1963, one of the greatest country singers of all time, Patsy Cline, was killed in an airplane crash near Camden, Tennessee.  Patsy (born Virginia Patterson Hensley) had an enrapturing voice that captures one's soul even these several decades after her death.  I was a toddler when she died, but by the time I was old enough to listen to country music on my grandfather's radio in the dairy barn, I was already a Patsy Cline fan.  As one radio DJ said, "Patsy Cline can sing any song and IMMEDIATELY make it her own."  I have to agree wholeheartedly with that assessment.  For instance, Don Gibson, a country superstar of the 60's, wrote and recorded "Sweet Dreams of You."  Gibson's version was not a Top 10 hit, but Patsy Cline's version, released in 1963 only months after her death, completely overshadowed Gibson's version by reaching Number 5 on the country charts and breaking the Top 20 on the Pop charts.  Patsy Cline's "Sweet Dreams" went on to become one of the signature songs of country music.  Today many younger people do not even know that Don Gibson released this song, much less wrote it, but love to hear Patsy Cline's melancholy, yet sultry rendition. 

Patsy Cline put her special vocal "touch" on many country "standards" including some of my favorites, such as "I Fall to Pieces," "Crazy," I Go Walking After Midnight," "She's Got You," and "Faded Love," just to name a few.  "Back" in the days of CDs (compact discs, in case you are under thirty) I wore out two or three Patsy Cline disks.  And celebrities loved Patsy Cline's voice as much as the fans did.  Madonna idolized Patsy Cline's beautiful voice and considered Patsy Cline to be very influential on her own music.  Madonna felt that Patsy Cline had one of the greatest voices of all time and conceded in one interview that her own voice paled in comparison.

Although Patsy Cline left us so many years ago, her memory lives on in her songs.  Even these decades after her death, Patsy Cline's haunting voice in her ballads, in her upbeat tunes, and her bluesy, melancholy songs of broken love, will continue to pull at the hearts of her old fans, while at the same time attracting new admirers, for many years to come.  Thank you, Patsy, for your beautiful songs.  I will always love your voice and your songs, and will continue to have "Sweet Dreams of You."

Patsy Cline
September 8, 1932 - March 5, 1963

End of Watch: March 5, 2019 Officer Nathan Heidelberg, Midland Police Department, Midland TX

This, my first post in weeks, which I planned several days ago to cover a different subject, has been roughly and brutally shoved aside, and my heart is very sad with the post I am forced to write this evening.  I did not know Officer Heidelberg, other than to wave at him as he passed in and out of the hospital where I work.  But he was a respected officer of the Midland Police Department, and had the honor and responsibility of serving as a Field Training Officer, an assignment not lightly passed out by police management.

When a police officer loses his life in the line of duty, it is always tragic.  Many times officers are murdered by criminals, many times officers are struck by vehicles, and many others are killed in various ways each year...but I have to say, Officer Heidelberg's death has to be one of the most senseless waste of an officer's life I have ever heard of, and this makes this tragedy so much the harder to bear for his family and his fellow officers.  And this is one of the most senseless actions of an armed citizen that I have ever heard of in my life, again, making this officer's death all the more difficult to understand.

Officer Heidelberg, the "rookie" officer he was training, and two other experienced officers, responded to a residential burglar alarm.  This alarm was the type this is monitored by an alarm company, which then summons police to the location in question.  One other thing the alarm company does (or is supposed to do) is find out if the owner is home, and if so, inform the owner that police are on the way.  I have no idea if the particular alarm company followed this procedure.  The Texas Rangers are investigating all of these things.

Whatever the case, the four officers approached the residence, at which time the owner stepped out the front door.  The police officers (as verified by multiple body cameras) loudly announced repeatedly that they were police officers and that they were there to check the home and property.  Not only that, but there were at least three patrol cars parked outside the house when the owner stepped outside.  Inexplicably, the owner opened fire, striking Officer Heidelberg in the chest just above his ballistic vest.  In what must be one of the greatest acts of restraint of force ever by police, the other officers gave the shooter a chance to lay down his weapon.  Certainly they would have been justified in returning fire upon seeing Officer Heidelberg struck down.  But, in fact, the homeowner was not injured.

This man later (after hiring an attorney) said that he thought the officers were "invading" his home.  Never mind that this man ran OUTSIDE his home and began wildly firing at persons who identified themselves as police officers, were in uniform, and had left marked police cars parked on the street.  To invade a home, the actors would need to at least be AT THE DOOR OR WINDOW OF THE HOME AND ATTEMPTING TO MAKE ENTRY.  He would not have been justified firing at real burglars, much less the police, in these circumstances.  The man was rightly arrested and charged with killing the officer, although not capital murder.

May the Good Shepherd enfold Officer Heidelberg's family, friends, and fellow officers tonight, and comfort these people as only the Good Shepherd can. May the Good Shepherd protect the officers that are left to carry on without Nathan Heidelberg with them tonight.  I am honored, yet saddened, to lift up Officer Heidelberg here, to thank him for his service and his ultimate sacrifice.

I also hope the shooter, in light of this most senseless action that he has taken, will voluntarily give up the ownership of his guns.  He is clearly not responsible enough, nor capable of clear judgment, to ever be trusted with deadly weapons again.  He could have easily shot his own family member or a neighbor who might have been coming to the residence to check on his safety.  His actions are inexplicable.  Was he so afraid that he decided to shoot anything that moved near his house?  Worse, was he so arrogant and careless that he would shoot anyone found outside his residence, no questions asked, just because his burglar alarm had been triggered?  We all know that many things, including inclement, extremely cold weather, can activate burglar alarms.  Yes, a person has the right to protect himself and his family, but with that right comes the responsibility to clearly identify any potential target as either a criminal or someone else.  The death of Officer Nathan Heidelberg was so senseless and needless, and so very avoidable, had the homeowner acted reasonably.

And the Thin Blue Line in heaven boasts one more officer tonight.

David Crockett Went To Texas

Today in US History, and perhaps I should add, Texas history, is the day in 1835 that David Crockett gave his famous "...you may all go to Hell, and I am going to Texas" farewell speech.  By the way, before I go further I would like to add, for Mr. Crockett, that he hated being called "Davy."  I have read this in more than one biography, so in respect to Mr. Crockett I will not call him "Davy" in this post.

My research into David Crockett's life and character has shown me that Crockett truly embodied all the stereotypical characteristics, even those of Hollywood, that you and I today have come to expect of all "frontiersmen."  He really did occasionally wear a coonskin cap, although he seemed to prefer to wear more traditional crowned hats at least as often, if not more.  He actually did hunt for food when he was very young.  Actually, most frontier children, especially boys, learned to hunt at  a young age, because their fathers were away from the house either fighting, farming, or running businesses.  Crockett actually wore clothes with fringes on the sleeves and legs, but the fringes were not decorations.  Actually, they represented high technology for that day.  The Indians with whom these frontiersmen had contact wore fringes for an actual purpose - the fringes acted as collection points for water, allowing the water, from rain or from crossing creeks and rivers, to drain off their clothing more quickly.  And Crockett was not "educated."  His education came from his life experiences and from his own self-education.

Although David Crockett was indeed a frontiersman, he was making inroads into politics by his early twenties.  He was an early county commissioner in North Carolina, and held various local public offices for the next few years.  He was constantly working as well, which left little time for formal education.  Crockett did not let his lack of education hold him back.  Instead, he rather shrewdly capitalized on his "country backwardness" by using his life-experiences and colorful anecdotes to represent his constituents and lull his opponents.

One of the most important aspects of being a frontiersman, one which I did not list above, was "being your own man."  Frontiersmen were fiercely independent, both in their actions and in their thinking.  David Crockett was no exception.  He believed in educating himself, both in general knowledge, and about local and national political issues.  Once educated, Crockett believed, a person should decide how he or she stood on an issue, then STAND.  Stand, no matter what other people said.  David Crockett said, "Be sure you are right, then go ahead." 

It was Crockett's fierce independence and his desire to be his own man that eventually led to his ouster from Congress.  In 1835 Crockett stood against President Andrew Jackson on his treatment of the Indians.  That was political suicide, and all of Crockett's colleagues told him so.  As one of his biographers put it, "Crockett was elected as a 'Jacksonian' but quickly became an 'Anti - Jacksonian' and lost the election of 1835."  No one in his right political mind would defy Jackson, but Crockett further nailed shut his coffin by stating on the House floor that "President Jackson is a worse tyrant than...Napoleon."  And so it was that in January, 1836 David Crockett uttered probably his most famous quote, "...all of you may go to Hell, and I am going to Texas."

Shortly afterward David Crockett set out for Texas.  On the way he and his three companions joined with a company of men from Louisiana who were headed to a crumbling, difficult to defend fort/mission called "The Alamo."  It may be that Crockett knew he was riding into Destiny.  He gave away his Mason apron, something a practicing Mason would never do.  Something about the Texas Revolution appealed to him, yet something else told him that he was heading into his last fight.

David Crockett is one of my favorite men of US History, and one of my favorite quotes of his is "You may all go to Hell, and I will go to Texas."  The defenders of the Alamo were doomed, and Crockett and the men with him did not change the final outcome.  But the few survivors of that famous battle all agreed that David Crockett lifted the spirit of those doomed men, both with his singing and with his encouraging words.  As Death closed on those men during the final minutes before the last assault, David Crockett's motto, "Be sure you're right, then go ahead" must have gone through their minds.  They, along with Crockett, went ahead into the final hopeless fight, and into perhaps the most famous battle of modern times.  Who knows, perhaps Crockett's presence, his wit, his personality helped the men fulfill all that would be required of them in their finest hour.

You may all go to Hell, I am going to Texas


God Bless America

Sweetie, It Sure Is Quiet Now

The house is finally quiet again.  Yes, my wife is speaking to me, and yes, the television is on, but the house is STILL quiet.  Child A has spent his obligatory twenty minutes with us, and is now back in his room, but that is not the "source" of the quiet.  The source of the quiet, of course, is the fact that  both grandchildren are now back with their parents.  And the house, though full of conversation and television noise, is oh so quiet.  That is one of the parts of "grandparentism"that has amazed me since my lovely bride and I were gifted with our first grandchild, and continues to strike me even after our second grandchild came into our world.  How quiet the house is after "the children" go home.  I know the grandchildren will visit again, relatively soon, but how quiet it is after they go home!

My precious Baby Baby is now three years old and will be four in just a few months.  She seems so grown up!  She talks so well, problems solves well, helps with little chores, and most of all LOVES for Poppee (me!) to play with her.  Yes, I am her playmate.  And I love it just as much as she.  I have gone through countless Peppa Pig adventures with her.  Today's Peppa adventure included me starring as "Monster Poppee" who endlessly trapped "Princess Peppa," only to foiled in his evil plans by "Prince George" who in "real life" is Peppa's younger brother.  Next we spend hours playing "True and Bartleby"  I don't know the actual name of the cartoon, I think it may be "The Adventures of True" but that is just a guess on my part.  True is a young lady who goes on many adventures, and shares those adventures her friend and CAT, Bartleby.  When we are "in character" as True and Bartleby, True addresses Bartleby, who then answers, "Yes, True."  If Poppe does not get that answer right, play is stopped immediately until "Bartleby" answers correctly..."Yes, True."  We go to the Wishing Tree to get three wishes that help solve the particular problem in a certain adventure.  Then we hurry to the "scene" of whatever the problem might be by riding on "Cumulo," a friendly cumulus cloud who is always ready at True's beck and call.  If one were to visit our home while Baby Baby was there, that person would be treated to the delightful scene of "True" leading around her friend (and cat) Bartleby by the hand, telling Bartleby some important bit of information, then hearing True say, " No Bartleby!  You have to say 'yes, True.'"

While all this is going on, Baby Derek, our latest addition, is playing in the floor or bouncing and making noise in his "jumper."  Baby Derek is one of the two sweetest babies I have ever seen.  The other was his uncle, Child A.  Baby Derek is all smalls, and so loving.  And he is already a "Honey's baby."  That means that he much prefers Honey to Poppee, just as Baby Baby does.  For cuddling or comforting purposes, both children prefer Honey to Poppee.  The good news is that when Honey is not available, and the choice is between Poppee and being totally ignored, they happily choose Poppee.  But Baby Derek a strange little quirk.  He has a very bad temper!  If his bottle is a few seconds late, he turns red, bulges out the vessels on his cute little head, and suddenly looks like a pint-size, red-tinted miniature Hulk!  A wet diaper turns our sweet little man into Hulk 2, as does placing him on his blanket on the floor for "tummy time" if he thinks he is not ready.  But he is such a joy!  He and his sister have greatly decorated our lives, my Lovely Bride and I.

And that is what makes the house so quiet when they leave, our little Baby Baby and Baby Derek.  They decorate our lives, as I am sure that all grandchildren do for all grandparents.  Our children are not "dethroned" by the arrival of grandchildren, but instead our lives, blessed by children, are doubly blessed when grandchildren appear in our lives.  The laughter, the occasional tears, and yes, even the hours spent as True's friend, Bartleby, all decorate our lives, literally brightening our happy home.  So when it is finally time for the children to go home, even though I know they will be back soon, it seems so quiet.  My lovely bride comments in a somewhat saddened voice, "Sweetie, it sure is quiet now."  She is right. Even with the TV on and conversation going on, the house seems so very quiet.  And so it is, but only for a short while.  The babies will be here again soon, and once again, the quiet will be chased out of the house for at time.

In just the wink of an eye, 2018 is in the past, and the New Year is upon us!  I am excited about the new year and what it holds in store.  At the same time, I am so amazed that what was supposed to be "just a few days off" for me turned into several months off.  We welcomed our second grandchild into the world during 2018, and that took some time away from writing and other things, but it was a pleasure to spend so much time with my precious grandchildren.  If time cannot be recovered, then this was certainly one of the best ways I could have used this time.  Some of the time I did lose without the hope of recovery and with the knowledge that I would have rather done almost ANYTHING else was the time I spent "filling in" for employees who seemed to be unceasingly ill, who needed off at the spur of the moment, and for one who took off whenever the time off was desired, until that employee was fired.  In 2019 I will not make THAT mistake again.

Christmas 2018 proved to be one of the "merriest" Christmases ever for my immediate family.  None of us stressed this year as far as trying to find the "right" gifts or spending a lot of money just to spend money.  Even without all that, this Christmas was a blast!  Our little grandkids (and their parents) along with our son were all gathered with us this year, and I have to say that was the biggest and best gift of all, far outshining all of the things that were gifted.  My lovely bride and Child B (my daughter) tickled our tummies with some great cooking and some great cookies as well.  We all had such a great time.

Now, on this first day of 2019, I begin the new year with several goals to meet, but only one "resolution" and that is to LIVE each moment in the present.  Yes, goals hark toward the future, but if one has no goals, and no plans on how to reach those goals, than that person is not moving forward, not growing.  The alternative is no longer acceptable for me.  I have some goals, and I have the plans to meet those goals, but whether I do or not, I am going to enjoy my life and my loved ones.  For all of my readers, I have you in my thoughts and prayers as the new year breaks upon us.

I am not going to discuss most of my goals on this blog, but one of my goals I want to talk about, and will accomplish, is to finish a book by the end of this year.  I have, for the past two years or so, been in touch with a very accomplished and successful writing team, each of them successful in their own right as well.  I have gained a lot of knowledge from these two special people, and I intend to soak in even more from them this year.  I will not reveal their names, but they have numerous books to their credit, and have even featured some of my experiences in a couple of their books and magazine articles.  Some of their credits include several installments of the Indiana Jones series, and it has been an honor and a privilege that they have shared their time and their experience with me.

It is great to have the blog rolling again, and I hope to have some interesting posts, some educational posts, and some emotional posts, that will be engaging and thought-provoking.  I will also post some articles that will just be entertaining.  One difference in the blog for the coming year, and for the remaining time that I blog, is that I will make very few, if any, political posts this year.  There are plenty of political blogs and political websites out there, as well as on television, so I will not add my little political knowledge and feeble opinions to that particular hue and cry. There are so many other things to blog about, as far as my interests, and hopefully yours too,  are concerned. Thanks again for sticking with me, and Happy New Year!!!