Respecting One Another, and Finding a Way to Heal
I wasn’t sure how to begin this blog post, which happens sometimes. A thought, a word, a sentence, and I’m stuck. Or I write what I think is an eloquent piece of literature only to find what I wanted to say is in the middle of an obscure thought. Maybe the next-to-last sentence needs to be moved to the first paragraph.
My contact with law enforcement began in college, when I worked mornings at The Reporter Dispatch city desk. I’d call local precincts to find out what happened overnight and write a news story from their information. As I cover the bridge project, I’m getting to know law enforcement in Westchester and Rockland Counties. I had the occasional parking ticket, three car accidents (once, I tapped a car by not braking soon enough; twice, other drivers pulled into the road, and my car, without looking), and spoke with police when the tires from my parents’ car were stolen.
I live in the town where I grew up and went to school. Kids I went to school with, and their friends and families, are members of various police departments, fire departments, EMT and ambulance corps. Eastchester and Scarsdale police were first to arrive when we called for help every time my dad fell, and recently when my mom fell. My brother’s friends are police officers, and although I’m on a first-name basis with them, I use their titles when we speak. That’s respect. My parents taught us to respect others, especially law enforcement. I’m grateful and thankful for their help; they risk their lives to keep us safe, and I’m awe of their bravery. Our family always supported them, and still does.
As I listen to the news, I grieve for the families and friends of the officers and civilians who lost loved ones. What adds to these tragic events is they continue to happen, and now especially during the holidays, a time for coming together.
I’d like to know what you think.
Copyright © Janie Rosman and Kaleidoscope Eyes 2014