HTG Eureka (Black Rain Ordnance)

(It should be noted that Black Rain Ordnance purchased HTG recently so if you have questions about suppressors contact Black Rain Ordnance in Neosho Missouri directly 888-836-2620. I do not know if they plan to make the Eureka still, personally I think it has a very strong place in the LE market but contact BRO if you have questions or are looking to buy one of these suppressors. Black Rain Ordance)

A patrol rifle is in my opinion a critical tool in the modern police officers tool box.  It gives officers much greater range to deliver accurate and controlled fire when needed.  This gives officers much greater opportunity to find adequate cover for the situation.  In the environment that I work (suburban) most distances are a house or two away so the typical distance is 30-50 yards.  With and handgun under perfect conditions and what not, could I make a head shot if needed?  I have done it on targets at the range but they were not shooting back and such so, would I be willing to bet my life or a fellow officers life on a handgun shot at that distance.  Not unless it was my only option.  Now with a rifle, that’s a much easier shot.  At that range you can even select which portion of the head you want to target. 

My personal patrol rifle has evolved from a department issued Colt 6920 (a great weapon) to a Noveske 10.5 Short Barreled Rifle with Aimpoint micro and not too many other gadgets.  I do have a weapon light.  Currently I have been on a massive weight loss kick for my rifle.  With weapon light and optics I have it down to 6.5 lbs.  Now this is after having it a nearly 9 lbs. with Trijcon optics massive weapon light, forend grip hydration pack, just kidding no hydration pack.  But after having it strapped to my chest for hours at a time on SWAT callouts I decided to lighten it up.  I spent lots of money buying fitting and replacing with even lighter items to get my weapon as light as possible. 

However I recently took a major departure from my weight loss kick on my rifle.  During basic SWAT school and more so in HRT (Hostage Rescue Tactics) school we did lots and lots of live fire in different shoot houses.  It was there that I really felt the teeth loosening, bone shattering blast of a 10” rifle.  I remember in one scenario I was slicing a door way on a “Slow and deliberate” search and had to engage a threat into the room.  As I shot into the room my team that was stacked up to my right was getting blasted by the concussion.  Now it’s not quite as bad but it’s close to a DD (Diversionary Device) going off in their face.  Now I’m not looking to upset their OODA loop but the reality is with a blast that prominent you may be jacking up your team and momentarily putting them in a reboot or flinch. 

So with this I decided to acquire a suppressor for my weapon.  The choices are abundant.  I was looking for the best performance in the smallest package I could find.  Weight was not my first priority but length and noise reduction were.  I settled on The HTG Eureka.  Its 4.5 in in overall length and that is noticeably shorter than most of the competition in the 28db reduction range.  I found a dealer SEDNAtek and placed my order.  If any of you have any class III needs Rob at SEDNAtek is who you should contact.  He is knowledgeable and very helpful and has a keen understanding of LE needs.  He contacted the ATF on my behalf and explained the LE use this was for and the ATF expedited my form and I got my tax stamp in an exceptionally short time.

I have to be honest, I was blown away at how much it cut the noise and flash down.  With a standard A2 flash hider my rifle is a fire belching boom stick.  To say its LOUD is an understatement.  I cannot even imagine how much pain my ears would feel firing it with unprotected ears.  However with the Eureka attached I can shoot it without any hearing protection without any discomfort.  I do not have any empirical scientific data to support how much reduction there is, I will use my favorite Napoleon Dynamite unit of measure, it’s a butt load of sound reduction.  The massive fire ball that is even visible during the day time is gone.  It’s pretty amazing.   Now factor in that when it’s threaded on it only adds about 2.5 inches of length to the weapon over an existing flash hider.  AMAZING!!

I put it on my 18” barreled SPR precession rifle and with hearing protection on I could hear the bullet hitting a steel plate at 300 yards louder than the report of the weapon.  And suddenly I have this nasty thwangy spring sound I have never heard before that is louder than the report of the weapon.  I guess the boom is normally so loud you can’t hear the recoil spring and buffer moving.  Now I can.  I guess the longer the barrel the better the results.  But even with my shorty it’s fantastic.

I put about 300 rounds through it and was surprised how much change there was to my zero.  I’m a firm believer in rechecking zero after ANY changes to the weapon.  Just because you never know.

Do suppressors have a place on a patrol rifle or entry weapon?  In my opinion unequivocally yes.  The weight penalty well worth the reward. 

Vets

Having worn the uniform of two branches of this great nations military I feel a keen bond with our nations veterans.  Over the years I have met a few veterans that stand out and touched my heart.  The one that comes to mind is Sal (not his real name).  I had known Sal for a few years an alcoholic transient (Bum, homeless guy, hobo, vagabond or choose your preferred label) for years.  He was friends with Steve (not his real name either).  Both of them were always respectful and cooperative with me over the years.  I made it a point to check in on them every so often.  Sometimes I was dispatched to calls requesting they be moved along and other times I just stopped to check on them.  I would check them for warrants and ask if they wanted to go to jail.  In the hot summers and cold winters sometimes they actually wanted to go to jail for a cool or warm and safe place to sleep.  When they said they didn’t want to go to jail I left them about their business of drinking themselves to death.  I make them pour their “Steel Reserve” out if they had an open container rather than giving them a ticket.  I have never been a “stats” driven officer.  I tried to focus on doing what was right.  I figured life was hard enough for them living on the street, I didn’t need to make it harder than it had to be.

I ran into Sal one day in a stinky alley in my area.  I was asking him about how his friend Steve died in the park a few days earlier.  He was telling me the story and the prosecutor who was riding along with me was truly devastated by the circumstances.  He said Steve had been having alcohol seizures and when he came back to the park he saw him non responsive.  Then he said “being a former repertory therapist I started CPR and sent someone to call 911”.  I said "are you freaking kidding me Sal you’re a repertory therapist?”  He said “yeah, for several years, but I couldn’t save him he was too far gone when I got to him”.  We talked some more as I had him pour out his beer.  He told me he had been in the Navy, he said he worked his way up to chief warrant officer.  Being a former Navy man I know how big of a deal this was.  He said he got busted down to E6 when he got his first DUI then worked his way back up to E7 (Chief) now for those of you that don’t know but advancing in the Navy isn’t as easy as some branches.  We talked about how he lost his home and family and now lives as a bum in a stinky dirty alley in the crapiest part of town. 

It was remarkable to see that Sal was in fact a contributing member of society and had served his country honorably but now was looked down upon by all that drove by and passed judgment.  I know for certain the prosecutor riding with me had a polar shift in his opinion on who the homeless population could be.  Before leaving I extended my hand to shake his hand and said “Shipmate, is today the day?”  In the Navy calling someone shipmate is like calling them brother.  He looked at me and said “the day for what?”  I responded “the day I take you to rehab to start the first day of the rest of your life getting back what you have lost.”  At first he chuckled then he saw in my eyes that my offer was genuine.  I could see that his eyes started to tear up as he contemplated what was happening.  He laughed it off like it was a joke and pulled his hand away and said with a chuckle in his voice “and give up all this? No, today is not the day”.  I responded “That’s fine, but when the day comes that you are ready, will you let me take you there?”  He smiled and said “Sure”.  We parted ways that day.  When we drove away the prosecutor said “I had no idea that people like that lived on the street”.  At one point Sal had been the salt of the earth.  He was still a great guy.  But something in his life had triggered pain that he felt an intense need to numb with alcohol. 

Every time I saw Sal after that I called him shipmate he would smile and before I even asked it for the millionth time he would say “Sorry shipmate, today is not the day”.  At times I could see just how much it pained him to refuse my help.  The problem was like Steve, by the time I got to Sal it was too late.  He was too far gone, and even though he had a pulse he was too far down his path to death to turn back.  I brought him dinner one thanksgiving and he thanked me but his body didn’t process food anymore as he only consumed alcohol.  He was too far into the depths of dying the death of an alcoholic.  A few months later the seizures started and not long after that he was found dead, in that same stinky, dirty alley in the crapiest part of town.  A g** damned Navy veteran that served his country dying a miserable death in a disgusting place with not even a glimmer of the honor he deserved.  It pains my soul to think about it.  It pains my soul that I did not get him the help he needed sooner.  I often wonder if I had pushed a little harder if I could have saved him.  I will never know for sure because it’s too late.  I will forever wish that I was able to find out what caused him the pain he felt so I could help him.  But that is a wish that will not come true.

Yes he made choices to get where he was but clearly he had a need for help.  I recently saw a statistic that 18 vets a day commit suicide.  That’s a vet every hour and twenty minutes killing themselves.  Vets are 4 times more likely than the population to commit suicide and 8 times more likely to abuse substances.  PTSD and TBI’s are real and we as a nation have not done enough to help our vets that need help.  I know that it is too late to help Sal, but I can take what I learned from him and when I am on a call, slow down and ask the questions that need to be asked to see if I can get this person the help they need especially if they are a vet.  As first responders we will deal with this issue more and more, we need to train and be prepared to help those in need.  In the end, we can either be the vets best friend or worst enemy depending on how we handle things. 

No gloves, no love!

A while back I assisted in taking a violent criminal into custody that ended up throwing a wrench onto my personal life.  I won’t get into any specifics about the case because has not been adjudicated and will likely end up being a death penalty case.  Regardless, when I went hands on with the suspect I experienced a signifigant blood exposure.  The suspect was very bloody from the way he was taken into custody (he lost a fight with the land shark that sniffed him out).  Now the call up to that point was pretty tense and because we had been preparing for an ambush, when I exited my car I didn’t  glove up and grabbed my rifle. 

Let’s face it,  if I can choose which tool to take to an ambush,  my 10.5" barreled AR-15 with Aimpoint Micro optics and light and more importantly multiple 30 round mags (loaded to 28 rounds of course to stay within department policy) is going to be pretty high on the list, much higher than gloves.  I was already wearing my vest but as far as other PPE (personal protective equipment) I could have done better.  Sure my ballistic helmet would have been a good idea but even the basics would have been a good idea.  I had two pair of black nitril gloves in my vest and another pair in the my pants pockets, but waited too long to get them on.

Once the tempo of the call slowed down I should have gloved up before touching anyone.  But this time I didn’t and really wish I had.  I am a pretty serious germ-a-phobe and really prefer to glove up before touching people regardless.  But like I said I didn’t this time.  And when I looked down I had his blood covering my hand and running down the back my hand over some scabs from working on my car and down my arm.   As soon as I could I cleaned it off and went through three bottles of hand sanitizer to clean up. 

Later when the suspect was receiving medical treatment it was determined that he had MRSA, this combined with the fact the he was a little guy and had been in prison for several years, I assumed he got passed around like a playboy so who knows what else he had.  So I completed the appropriate blood exposure paperwork and went through the processes prescribed.  I went to the doctor several times and they drew my blood several times for testing and gave me some guidelines.  Because they had not analyzed the suspects blood yet they put me on the worst case scenario precautions.  Among them was no unprotected sex with my wife for six months.  There were some other even more intrusive personal limitations given to me that I will spare you the details of.  To confirm, I asked, “Okay so no unprotected sex with my wife but unprotected sex with hookers is still good right?”  He had a stunned look on his face so I let him off the hook and told him, “I’m joking you know, right?”

 Suffice it to say, this momentary of lapse of not putting PPE gloves on had complicated my life comprehensively.  Because of no gloves, I was forced into the scenario of no glove no love.  I learned now that no matter what when it comes time to touch people, take the time to glove up.  Not just for the six months of probation, but just to avoid the stuff you can bring home to the rest of the family.         

The choice is yours of which side you support, I made my choice

On December 9, 1981 at approximately 0351 hours Philadelphia Police officer Daniel Faulkner pulled over a vehicle.  Before he exited his car he radioed for back up.   It seems apparent that Officer Faulkner recognized the subject as someone he knew to have an active warrant for his arrest.  Along with requesting back up he requested a paddy wagon for transporting prisoners.  While attempting to handcuff a subject that did in fact have a warrant (William Cook) a struggle ensued to get handcuffs on the suspect according to witnesses.   

According to four eyewitnesses the brother of William Cook, Wesley Cook aka (Mumia Abu-Jamal) ran from a parking lot across from the traffic stop and witnesses observed Mumia shoot Officer Faulkner in the back.  Officer Faulkner fell to the ground on his back and witness said he fired into the chest of his attacker while he lay wounded on his back.  The attacker fired four more shots into the officer while he literally stood over him finally shooting officer Faulkner in the head killing him.  The attacker tried to flee but collapsed at the front of William Cooks car.  Just after 0352 hours approximately 90 seconds after Faulkner requested back up, officer Shoemaker arrived on scene to find Faulkner dead and Mumia slumped over the curb.  Mumia was wearing a shoulder holster but his .38 revolver (purchased by Mumia himself) was on the sidewalk next to him.  Officer Shoemaker gave him commands to “freeze” but Mumia reached for the gun and attempted to raise it to shoot at Shoemaker.  But the chest wound from Faulkner’s gun had sapped most of the strength out of Mumia so as he was struggling to bring his gun back up Officer Shoemaker, rather than shoot and kill the subject uses less force than he was authorized to and kicked the Mumia causing him to drop the gun.  Shoemaker kicked the gun away and struggled with the suspect to take him into custody.

 Three witnesses on scene confirmed that Mumia was the shooter as he was placed in the paddy wagon.  While at the hospital he made a spontainous utterance to the hospital staff treating him “I shot the mother f***** and I hope the mother f***** dies”.  So let’s review the facts.  Officer Faulkner was shot and killed at a traffic stop.  The shooting was witnessed by several people.  The shooter of Officer Faulkner was observed by witnesses being shot in the chest as he was shooting the officer in the face.  Mumia Abu-Jamal was found at the front of the car driven by his brother at the traffic stop with a gunshot wound from (Faulkner’s gun) in his chest.  Next to him was a revolver with 5 spent casings and one unfired round.  Mumia was wearing a shoulder holster for the same gun that was laying next to him that he was found to have purchased.  Seems like pretty overwhelming evidence right?   Well a jury of ten whites and 2 blacks convicted him after two hours of deliberation.  He was sentenced to death after three hours of deliberation.  His case made it all the way up to the wise nine (US Supreme Court) and his conviction and death sentence was upheld.

 Mumia never once said he didn’t shoot and kill Officer Faulkner at trial.  His bother never once testified that his brother didn’t shoot Officer Faulkner.  He merely stated he was innocent of the charges.  He said this because he felt killing an officer was justified.  His radicalist Black Panther roots assured this.  There are people who feel Mumia is a political prisoner.  I am not kidding look it up.  Paul Newman, Ben & Jerrys Ice Cream and a host of other intellectuals argue that he is a political prisoner.  16 cities have included him as an honorary member of their city even though he sits on death row.  Paris France named a street after him to show their support for this political prisoner.  Why, Because its sounds good to them.  Somehow the supporters of Mumia seem to be blind to the fact that Mumia’s bullets were found in the back and brain of Officer Faulkner.  How does that happen?  I will tell you how.  In typical radical movements like the Black Panthers they were documented to set up ambushes on police officers (the government oppression)  Am I the only person who finds it beyond coincidental that Mumia “happened” to be across from his brothers traffic stop at 3:50AM with a gun waiting?  But to the radical left Mumia is a hero and even today you have people posting “Free Mumia” on Facebook and other places every day.  What is it in society that makes people think that he is a hero?  I cannot answer that.  Those that consider him a political prisoner point to the fact that he was denied the right to defend himself.  Well at first he wasn’t, but after he repeatedly did not follow the rules and could not contain his outbursts.  From the onset, Mumia felt the rules did not apply to him.  He should be able to kill whomever he wants to and the court should not be allowed to tell him when he can and cannot talk.  He was empowered by the supporters who felt he had been “set up”.

You will need to choose for yourself which side you fall on.  But know this.  There are groups out there today that are even more radical than the Black Panthers were back then.  They not only feel it’s acceptable to kill police officers, they delight in it.  Look no further than Youtube and see the comments on officers murdered.  I saw one video showing the cold blooded murder of an officer.  The officer pulled a truck over and as soon as it came to a stop the driver jumped out and opened fire on the officer as he was getting out of his patrol car.  The dash cam captured the whole thing.  The video was titled “Making Bacon” and praised the shooter for just “doing what needed to be done”. 

One thing I have learned is that wackjobs come in all shapes and sizes.  It does not discriminate and encompasses all races and classes.  You can never be too prepared or vigilant.  I just hope that if I get killed on duty that worthless souls do not delight in my death and praise my killer.  I am afraid that not even gods power would be enough to keep me from haunting them deeper into their own misery.   

http://www.danielfaulkner.com/bio.html

I was fine, right up to the last call

“PRESENT… ARMS” the command was shouted to the cordon.  Ceremoniously slow (on a four count), I raised my right hand in perfect unison with the group to salute.  A few moments later the casket of a slain officer moved passed me.  Behind the fallen officer, walked his widow and 7 year old son and 3 year old daughter.  The widow clearly grief stricken by the untimely slaughter of her husband, the children not fully grasping the finality of what was happening. 

As the family passed me, I moved my 1000 yard stare down to the little children who surely were deeply missing their father.  I notice that both children with crystal blue eyes were looking back at me, smiling.  I assume that they were raised to like police officers just like their father and not fully understanding what was going on and were happy to see so many police officers with shiny shoes and badges and colorful ribbons.  I don’t know for certain why they smiled at me but they did.  Without thinking I broke bearing and gave them a slight smile back.  At the same time both of their smiles grew and their eyes got even brighter.  I would be lying if I told you I saw what happened next because instantly my vision became too blurry to see as tears welled up.  The rest of the family passed by and I wasn’t about to break bearing again.  The command was given, “ORDER...ARMS”.  Again ceremoniously I lowered my salute on a four count and as had been previously arranged, we were given to command “Honor Guard..Post” the cordon in perfect unison made a right and left face respectively to face the funeral and fell into a pre arranged ranks. 

The rest of the funeral went on with full honors.  There were stories shared of lives that had been edified by the fallen officer.  How simple tasks he had done with courage, conviction and honor had impacted people’s lives in a positive manner.  To the officer it was just another day at work of serving others.  He died on a call that every officer has been on.  He was in circumstances that every officer has been in.  It was by most accounts a routine situation right up to the moment that the murderous suspect ended the officers life.  Except for being murdered, it was just like any other day as an officer.  Exactly what we all face every day.  It was a touching ceremony and I felt honored to be a part of it. 

I was able to maintain my composure right up to the last call.  For those of you that have not attended a police officer’s funeral there is a tradition called the “Last Call”.  It is something that I can’t talk about without getting choked up.  Even as I write this my eyes are blurry.  At the graveside the police radios are tuned to a certain frequency and in the silence, a dispatcher gets on and calls for the fallen officer by their call sign.  The silence of no reply by the officer is as piercing as a dagger to the heart.  Generally three times they call for the officer and three times there is no reply.  Then the dispatcher says something to the effect, calling the officer by their call sign, that they have arrived on their final call and are 10-7 (end of shift) forever.  At this funeral it sounded something like this.  “Mary four thirty one…………Mary four thirty one………..Mary four thirty one……………….. Mary four thirty one is 97 on his final assignment in Heaven and will be 10-7 forever.  Mary four thirty one…. you will be missed by all, we will take it from here.”

It is the last call that will make the hardest, salty police officer weep like a baby.  It’s not uncommon to here the widow or mother wail and cry during the last call.  Its during the last call that the occasional inhale sounds like sobbing blubber.  You struggle to regain your composure as your eyes fill up and you hear the officer to your left and right, behind and in front of you sniffle struggling themselves to hold back the flow of emotion. On this day, I was fine right up to the last call.   This year is starting off with tragic statistics, 5 officers murdered in the first two weeks.  Stay safe, be vigilant and do all that you can do to love your family and let those that you love, know that you love them.  Every officer killed in the line of duty, started thier shift just like any other day, not knowing if today was going to be the day.  I feel like I leave a little bit of my soul at each funeral, this one more than most.

My two cents, and it may not be worth that

Top Gear is a car show from Britain on the BBC and is in my opinion the best imported TV show from jolly old England ever.  My mother would have argued Rosemary and Thyme was better, but I wouldn’t agree.  Top Gear is for car lovers pure car porn.  Some of the most amazing and exotic cars in the world driven on some of the most amazing roads in the world.  I have enjoyed the show for years and over the years I chose to over look the blatant pejorative political and cultural jabs at Americans.  I still maintained my fanship with Top Gear because the show is so sensory and pleasing to me.  With the jabs at politics and culture we Americans spawn came the complete and total castigation of American Cars.  Let’s face it, we Americans at times give them some of fodder for ridicule.  And when it comes to cars, for the most part I have to agree with them, I have only owned a few American cars since my driving career stared in the mid 1980’s, a 1968 Cadillac Coupe Deville, given to me any my brothers by our grandparents.  This was a truly fantastic car a 1989 Chevy S-10 and a 1992 Ford Ranger pickup truck.  I prefer European and Japanese cars to American cars, what can I say. 

Where my sensibilities got offended by the Top Gear clan was when Jeremy Clarkson one of the three hosts said the following regarding public sector workers striking in Great Brittain.  “I’d have them all shot. I would take them outside and execute them in front of their families. I mean, how dare they go on strike when they have got these gilt-edged pensions that are going to be guaranteed while the rest of us have to work for a living?”  Now this was specific to those public sector workers in Great Britain but I feel a need to stand Lockstep with my brothers and sisters across the pond in public works.  I take offense that he says we should have to work for a living like the rest of us.  Rest of us?  Driving around in exotic sports cars and blowing hard in absurd levels of douchebagary (see the urban dictionary for definition) is work?  I want that job and what he makes for doing it.  Oh wait, that’s what everyone else is saying to us.  They think we don’t work and we make too much for doing what we do?  A bit of the pot calling the kettle black, I would say.

Now this attack on the public workers is just a mirror of what is taking place across the Atlantic here in America.  Here the Jeremy Clarkson figure head is captured in those that call themselves “Tea Party” (I know it’s ironic right) and they use the Gadsden flag as their moniker.  As a former Navy man who served on the USS Constitution which bore this flag in anger many years ago, I take offense to their using this flag, but that’s just my own opinion.  Most people have no idea what it represents or its history.  I am certain  many would be shocked that the don't tread on me motto and flag was used by the south when the north was trying to infringe on their rights to slavery.  (http://opinionator.blogs.nytimes.com/2010/11/08/georgia-to-u-s-dont-tread-on-me/)  Anyway, the attack on the so called “Gilt edged pensions” has been going full swing here in America and spear headed by the "Tea Party"(not to the same kind of tea party I had with my daughter and her dolls and miniature tea cup set).  I often hear that I am over paid and over compensated for my job.   I am told I do not deserve such a “generous pension”.  Most times I bite my tongue and hold my opinion to myself.  But Now, I will not hold my opinion back. 

First off, if you have not been a police officer (or any public safety personnel) you have no idea what I do or deserve for what I do.  I do not know how to be a plumber and I would not try to assume that I do.  I do know it costs over $100K to train me to do what I do (you can go to law or medical school cheaper).  Most days I would do the job for free if I could afford it, because I love doing it so much.  Some days you could not pay me enough to do over.  Many people try to compare what we do to any other job.  It’s not any other job.  I was having a conversation with a fellow officer about how our job gets treated like it’s any other job.  He told me, “I had a guy who was shooting at me, the first few shots I fired into his torso didn’t stop him.  I finally shot him in the face.  I walked over and watched part of his brain oozing out like pulp into the street.  Another time I had to step over big chunks of human brain and skull of a parent who had just murdered their two children with head shots from a shotgun before turning the gun on themselves.  Do people have any idea of the images that go through my mind when I am falling asleep.  Horrible things I have had to see and do.  Putting myself at risk, to make others safe, then they bitch and moan that my benefits are too good.” 

Back when everyone was fat and happy making dot com gobs of money nobody gave two craps about those of us in public sector work making less than them for long term stability and a pension.  However, now that those that made obscene amounts of money in real estate and technology and other fields aren’t making as they used to; I am now the bad guy.  I get “too much”.   Now common sense would tell you it a clear case of sour grapes.  But now factor in elected officials getting on the Tea Party Band wagon like the infamous Russell Pearce, Kirk Adams and now Andy Biggs who bow to the wishes of the Tea Party and Goldwater agenda.  They recently changed police officer retirements in Arizona from 20 years to 25 years and the contribution from my check to my pension is going up from $400 a month can go up to $800 a month. Senator Biggs is authoring anti police union legislation.  That crackling sounds you hear is the sound of the republican party burning the bridges with police and fire unions that have supported them in the past.  You will see a shift of police organizations that have for decades supported republicans switching parties.  Why? Because these elected officials try to treat police and fire like any other job.  Its not!

This is all happening at a time where the agency I work for is charging me $504 a month for medical coverage $114 for dental and $20 for vision plus another $40 in disability and life insurance since the Cities “Gilt Edged” benefits include one year’s salary paid to my family for life insurance if I get killed.  So let’s do the math.  For these awesome benefits I actually have to pay $1076.00 a month then, I have to pay taxes (just like everyone else that claims that they are a tax payer and pay my salary) about $450 month and you get a grand total of $1473 that I am paying each and every month for my “gilt edge pension” and “Golden benefits”.  Most people assume that “they” the tax payer are paying for my benefits.  Spare me a little more math, so after deductions, I risk my life as a police officer for $3301 a month take home.   With this I am to raise a family, make a mortgage and car payment.  Not to mention the several thousands of dollars I have spent on my own equipment for the job (averages between 2-4k a year of my own money I spend on equipment).

I know many may ask why I would do this job for that amount of money.  The reality is because I love it, but part of me does it for the stability.  Even though the pay is not terribly good especially for the risk, in the end after 20 years I will get a pension as a retirement.  Clearly they don’t pay me enough to put millions away by the time I retire, but they promise me that If I will do my job, Save lives when needed, take bad guys lives when needed, deal with all of the filth that society does not want to; after 20 years we will give you a pension. 

Let’s take a look at what many propose, doing away with pensions all together for public safety.  Is it possible?  Sure.  But you will have to pay significantly more money up front for the employees to fund their own retirements.  Fine.  Instead starting cops out at $50K you will need to start them more like $70K and then keep jacking it up to keep them. So you can attract good people who are going to be a) good at it b) willing to do it and c) willing to do it for a long time.   At about 3-5 years all officers take a look in the mirror and decide if the scars on their soul and the damage that has been done to them is worth it and if they should keep going.  I can tell you that the money is not worth it, not even close.  Having to step over brain and skull and hair on the ground over a parent who used a shotgun to commit suicide then going in and finding the two children who are now practically headless due to the 12 gauge shotgun wounds to the head, not even $10,000 dollars pay for just that day is enough.  Not to have those images or the images of a brutal child abuse that you had to in vivid detail investigate and document.  No the money is not even close to worth it.  But knowing that at 20 years I can retire and still make a modest income and care for my family is why I and other continue to stay for the 20 years. 

Soon cities will be hiring people who are only there for the money and getting the problems that brings.  Then when money is the only benefit, at 3-5 years most will look in the mirror and leave for better options elsewhere or they are just sick of doing it.  Now the $150K you spent training them to be cop and years of experience are gone and what are you left with?  A force of 3 year officers who are in it for the money.  Don’t get me wrong you will still have some good cops who do it for the love of the job and they will stick it out but cities will pay millions more for the mistakes of money hungry cops with little street experience.  There is nothing that makes you a good cop except years of doing it.  Nothing can but doing it can fully prepare you for this job.  So turnover will be overwhelming, lack of experience will create a decay in the system.  All the while the Bible thumping Tea Party will watch the Biblical prophecies that of continued wickedness and destruction of society as the world gets more evil.  I wonder if they will ever draw the conclusion that their personal attack and destruction of public safeties benefits and thusly the public safety system is part of the evil?  I doubt it.

November 12th 1913

November 12^th 1913 Started like any other day for Marshal Hyrum Peterson.  He was the first law enforcement officer in the dusty western town of Mesa Arizona.  At the time Mesa was a small suburb of Phoenix with just a few hundred people.  The state of Arizona was merely a year old at this time, and Arizona was still very much the “wild west” with towns such as Bisbee and Tombstone and Arizona Lawmen such as Virgil and Wyatt Earp to bolster its legend.   At 53 years of age Peterson had spent most of his years working as a farmer on ranches.  But for the last five years he was the person tasked with enforcing law and order.   He went on about his daily duty of patrolling the town on his bicycle.  But this day, November 12, 1913 would end very different for Marshal Peterson. 

On this day he witnessed two subjects attempting to steal a bicycle.  He pursued them on his own bicycle and when they got to what was then the edge of town near Broadway and Country Club, the subjects fired upon him striking Marshal Peterson five times.  Twice in the arm, twice in the leg and a fatal chest wound that struck him in the heart.  He died moments later.  Marshal Hyrum Smith Peterson was the first Mesa Law Enforcement officer to die in the line of duty.   While not the official Mesa Police Department of today, Marshal Peterson was still a Mesa Arizona law enforcement officer, and all of the Mesa officers since regard him as a brother. 

It would be another 81 years almost to the day when Mesa would lose the next officer killed in the line of duty.  I will get into the tragedy of Officer Steven Pollard at a later time.  Today I choose to focus on Marshal Peterson.  His murderers were caught and tired in a court of law.  They were sentenced to death by hanging, but justice never came for Marshal Peterson.  Seven years later both killers were pardoned by then Governor Thomas Edward Campbell.  Apparently he felt that the murder of a police officer was not a crime worthy of death and seven years of incarceration was enough and they were set free.  Some speculate the Governors decision was based in religious bias, others a political stunt, but nobody really knows for sure.  One thing is true, thousands of worthy souls have stepped up to the cause and carried the torch that metaphorically dropped to the ground when Marshal Peterson fell dead.  Tens of thousands of times since then men and women all around this country have stepped up and taken on the risk of dying an inglorious death to carry that torch.  One hundred and forty times this year so far men and women have stepped up to carry on where their fallen brothers fell.  I challenge you to attend the funeral of the next officer in your area that gets killed in the line of duty.  You will be welcomed, room will be made for you.  Watch their brothers and sisters grieve as the last radio call is put out and the fallen officer never responds back.  Watch the family members shutter as the tears roll down their face during the twenty one gun salute.  That my friends is the price that some pay to keep you safe.