A Poem That I Wrote For Police Officers

National Police Week is coming up soon. This year it's May 12 - 18, 2019. My experiences with police officers have not always been pleasant! No, I don't have any criminal record; arrests, or such, anyway. I did get a speeding ticket once, on the highway in Missouri. I paid the fine. That's my whole Rap Sheet! I was lucky, that way, considering some of the other possibilities in my past. I definitely had some 'close calls' . . . but that's another story for another time here.

I was stalked by a police officer, for 11 years! Not as a criminal being tailed by a cop, but because he entertained himself by toying with me, and intruding into my private life, for whatever reason. I finally moved out of my very favorite apartment, right in the Old Market in Omaha, to try to escape him, and his less-and-less amusing antics toward me. Even that didn't stop him, though. Long story short (for a change, with me! LOL) I finally took him to court, to make it public enough to discourage him from doing any more of it, and that finally stopped it.

I had the vicarious thrill of working directly with the police department, as an undercover operative for them, on two different murder cases. Those involved two of the nightclubs that I had worked in as a dancer. One evening, I had met, and sat beside talking to, one of the murder suspects, in one of these clubs, but at that time I didn't know who he was. Sadly, we tried but were not able to solve these crimes, and they remain cold cases to this day. There are some funny aspects to my working under cover, though, despite its being serious, even dangerous work that I was doing, which I will share about in another Blog post at some point.

I was friends with a female police sergeant, at that time, who also loved my pet cockatiel, CeeBee! She came to my apartment and visited us. During one of my visits to her, at police headquarters where she worked, I brought CeeBee along in his handheld 'walking basket', since he brightened her day. He always rather looked like he was 'behind bars' in that basket, peering out from behind its lattice design as he did. This lady cop had a real sense of humor. She was finally close enough to retirement  to not care anymore if the male officers accepted her, or took her seriously, among their ranks, by this point in her career. We were in the elevator, headed up to her office in Internal Affairs, when an extremely straight-laced detective in a suit got on there with us, wearing that severely somber look on his face that's almost a caricature of the expression cops are typically known for. She grinned at me, looked sideways at him, and with a perfectly straight face made a crack about our having a 'jail bird' with us (LOL) and STILL this man did NOT even crack a smile . . . . I still smile just thinking about that!

One night a neighbor got shoved out, and then locked out, of her apartment by the man she had brought home with her. NOT a date that was going well! She knocked on my door, very late at night now, needing for me to call the cops to come help her because her apartment had been taken hostage and she had been kicked out of it. She was also 'doin' the dance', as she had been drinking a good bit and was 'busting a gut' to pee. I was already in bed that time of night, wearing little of anything for that reason. Soon, the policeman arrived at my apartment to meet with her and get the details about the situation. He sat on my bed, with me still in it, using my phone (a land line, at that time; by my bed) to call her apartment and try to get this jerk to answer her phone, and then, hopefully, her door. He tried that again and again, and also briefly considered trying to climb over there from my apartment window, quickly realizing that was too unsafe to attempt. As I observed this unusual activity in my apartment, I thought about this cop on my bed with me and this girl. This scene rather resembled a 'threesome', with two women and some guy in a 'kinky cop costume'! Being a dancer at the time, I was much more into the mindset that went along with that job, so . . . I did look . . . at the length of his . . . nightstick .

I've sent Get Well cards to police officers in the hospital, when they've been reported as being sick or injured and are recuperating. Some have even written back to me, so grateful for that little card with the well wishes written in it, and while that wasn't necessary or expected of them, it was very much appreciated by me! I've petted the horses of the cops riding them on patrol. One Halloween, I spotted a female officer sitting on her horse in the Old Market, watching the crowd as they bar hopped and celebrated a reason to dress up in their various costumes. Walking up to her, and her horse, I said, "Nice costume you're wearing! But how'd you get the two guys to be willing to wear the horse outfit, especially the one in the back?" She laughed. I was nearly run down by an officer on a Segway, once! I don't think he had a license to operate that vehicle. When I used to go out by myself, all fixed up, when I was younger, it was kind of a rush for me to see the foot patrol police men sticking their chest out all macho and acting very protective of me in a flattering form. A little harmless flirting is always kind of fun, if you're in the mood for that sort of thing at the time. I was, then. The motorcycle cops are always a fun group, too! That annoying 'Stalker Cop', who looked and acted like 'Barney Fife', was like having my own private Security Officer, for YEARS, and my friends would, of course, NOTICE him doing that, when they were with me, and comment on it, and make jokes about it. He once even used his police cruiser's bull horn to call up to me, as I was sitting in my apartment, and say, "Deborah! What are you doing?". GEEZ! For the first few years of it, I took it as him flirting, and since I was a dancer then, that mindset kind of came naturally to me, as well. But after that, I just figured this dude was sick, some kind of way.  Anyway. It is what it is.

On March 6, 1998, I wrote this poem for the city's police officers. The local news kept reporting on how demoralized they were feeling as a group, at the time, and I felt a real wave of compassion for them, because that is a really tough job for anyone to have to do. Ugly. Messy. Boring, Terrifying. Crazy. Dangerous. Violent. Tedious. Routine. Challenging. Sometimes, even deadly. I sat down at my dining table and wrote it, in one sitting, from my heart, then called the station and read it to a female cop that was on desk duty that night, to see if it would resonate with an actual officer, and cheer them up. She liked it so much that she wanted to come by my apartment, on a quick break, and get a copy, which I prepared for her. I then delivered it to her by dropping it from my window, so she could get back to her post on time! I still remember looking down from my apartment window, watching her, in her uniform, reaching up to catch it as it floated down through the late night air to her, with an expression on her face that showed it really meant a lot to her. That blessed me! I love blessing others, and that is made even more special, for me, when I can see that they know my intent is simply to do that for them. It was also published, in The Shield, the "official publication of the Omaha Police Union Local No. 101" in May 1998, in the middle of page 9.

That poem follows, here. It is just as valid today in what it says about appreciating what police officers do for our communities as it was when I wrote it over two decades ago. There are stories on the news all the time about bad cops. Since cell phones are in almost everyone's hands, citizens are able to use those to factually expose a lot of the police abuses now, helping to bust that 'All cops are good' myth. The black citizens seem to disproportionately suffer from the actions of these criminal cops that get unleashed on our society. Thankfully, more of these problem police officers are finally going to prison, which they deserve! I am not a person who is blindly approving of anyone simply because they are in a uniform. Women have been pulled over, in traffic stops, and been raped by cops. Innocent people have been framed, or worse, killed, by crooked cops. There is a disturbing degree of such stories being regularly reported on the national newscasts. But, there is still a majority of good police officers, who leave their homes every work day, while never knowing if they will be back there after their work is done. They see things that most of us could not even bear to see with our own eyes, and they have to not only look, but also stick around to investigate and report on it, after first trying to help these situations end up with a better outcome. This poem is not for all the cops. This poem, I wrote, is for the majority of police officers, whose 'Thin Blue Line' is all that stands between us and there being rampant crime, anarchy, even martial law due to unconstrained outbreaks of violence that can put everyone's lives at risk of harm or death. My poem is for the good cops.


                   To Serve And Protect


Always out in the cold, rain, wind, and heat
To serve and protect all those on their beat
Our city's police put themselves on the line
To give us the blessing of our peace of mind.

Often unsung heroes, just doing their job,
Yet still much like the very angels of God
Who go where they're called, and do what they must,
While often unnoticed; they do it for us.

Their lives on the line-- and some have been taken--
These brave souls continue, though weary and shaken,
To leave their own haven of family and home
And go out on our streets to face bad things alone.

Yet, have you noticed? They'll give you a smile,
Like they love what they do, like to them it's worthwhile;
And you're left to realize, as they go on their way,
For these public servants it's just one more day.

I really don't know how much they hear "Thanks"
So I wanted to say it: To all of the ranks
Who stand shoulder-to-shoulder helping us all,
Thank you for rising to such a high call.

For taking the trouble to stand for what's right;
For keeping streets safe through the dark hours of night;
For coming to help us all hours of each day;
There's no way to give you what you're worth in pay.

A "Thanks" is a small thing to give you, I know,
But will help keep you warm when icy winds blow,
And help keep you cool when the heat wears you down,
And give you a 'thumbs up' though no one's around.

So please take my "Thank you" and tuck it away
Under your badge for some discouraging day
When you've given it all but feel no one cares;
Like you are, my "Thank you" will always be there.

                                    - Deborah Gayle Robinson