In Memoriam

Somebody killed a policeman today and a part of

©1984 America Police Hall of Fame, North Port, FL

In memory of all the fallen law enforcement officers

I miss you dad !

KANE PENNSYLVANIA POLICE OFFICER STEVE JERMAN KILLED IN LINE OF DUTY

It is with great sadness to announce that on Saturday Feb 20, 1999 Long-time Kane Borough Police Officer Steve Jerman was shot to death about 4 am, apparently by a person in a car he had pulled over on Route 66 at the foot of Cemetery Hill. Although fatally wounded, Jerman somehow managed to shoot the assailant, and he was taken to Kane Community Hospital and then life-flighted to Presbyterian Hospital in Pittsburgh.

My heartfelt condolences go out to all of his family and friends. This is my hometown and it is another small town like my dad was killed in. It is about 17 miles from Johnsonburg.

Thanks to Frank "Bigdaddy" Robinson for the inspiration for this medal. Frank's 26 year old brother William E. Robinson was killed in the line of duty as a Baldwin County, Georgia Deputy Sheriff while attempting to arrest an armed robbery suspect on December 17, 1995. Bigdaddy's website is at http://www.hom.net/~bigdaddy/ if you'd like to visit.

    

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The following was sent to me by a good friend: Ken Lewis, a retired cop. Visit his great site.

When the Lord was creating peace officers, he was into his sixth day of overtime when an angel appeared and said, "You've done a lot of fiddling around on that one."

And the Lord said, "Have you read the specs on this order? A peace officer has to be able to run five miles through alleys in the dark, scale walls, enter homes the health inspector wouldn't touch and not wrinkle his uniform."

"He has to be able to sit in an undercover car all day on a stakeout, cover a homicide that night, canvass the neighborhood for witnesses and testify in court the next day."

"He has to be in top physical condition at all times, running on black coffee and half-eaten meals. And he has to have six pairs of hands."

The angel shook her head slowly and said, "Six pairs of hands... no way."

"It's not the hands that are causing me problems," said the Lord. "It's the three pairs of eyes an officer has to have."

"That's on the standard model?' asked the angel.

The Lord nodded. "One pair that sees through a bulge in a pocket before he asks May I see what's it there, sir?' when he already knows what it is and wishes he had taken an accounting job. Another pair here in the side of his head for his partner's safety. And another pair of eyes in the front that can look reassuringly at a bleeding victim and say, You'll be all right, ma'am', when he knows it isn't so."

"Lord," said the angel, touching His sleeve, "rest and work on this tomorrow."

"I can't," said the Lord. "I already have a model that can talk a 250 pound drunk into a patrol car without incident and feed a family of five on a civil service paycheck."

The angel circled the model of the peace officer very slowly. "Can it think?", she asked.

"You bet," said the Lord. "It can tell you the elements of a hundred crimes; recite Miranda warnings in its sleep; detain, investigate, search and arrest a gang member in less time than it takes five learned judges to debate the legality of the stop... and still it keeps its sense of humor. This officer also has phenomenal personal control. He can deal with crime scenes painted in Hell, coax a confession from a child abuser, comfort a murder victim's family and then read in the daily newspaper how law enforcement isn't sensitive to the rights of criminal suspects."

Finally, the angel bent over and ran her finger across the cheek of the peace officer. "There's a leak", she pronounced. "I told you that you were trying to put too much into this model."

"That's not a leak," said the Lord. "It's a tear."

"What's the tear for?", asked the angel.

"It's for bottled-up emotions, for fallen comrades, for commitment to that funny piece of cloth called the American flag, for justice."

"You're a genius," said the angel.

The Lord looked somber. "I didn't put the tear there.", He said.

The following poem was sent to me by: Michelle

The policeman stood and faced his God, Which must always come to pass. He hoped his shoes were shining. Just as brightly as his brass.

"Step forward now, policeman. How shall I deal with you? Have you always turned the other cheek? To My church have you been true?"

The policeman spoke with shoulders squared, "No, Lord, I guess I ain't, Because those of us who carry badges can't always be a saint.

I've had to work most Sundays, and at times my talk was rough, and sometimes I've been violent, Because the streets are awfully tough.

But I never took a penny, That wasn't mine to keep.... Though I worked a lot of overtime When the bills just got too steep.

And I never passed a cry for help, Though at times I shook with fear. And sometimes, God forgive me, I've wept unmanly tears.

I probably don't deserve a place Among the people here. They never wanted me around Except to calm their fear.

If you've a place for me here, Lord, It needn't be so grand. I never expected or had too much, But if you don't.....I'll understand.

There was silence all around the throne Where the saints had often trod. As the policeman waited quietly, For the judgement of his God.

"Step forward now, policeman, You've borne your burdens well. Come walk a beat on Heaven's streets, You've done your time in hell."