"It's the cops who give the law legs." Indeed.
http://www.postnet.com/postnet/stories.nsf/ByDocID/EC8D64A38D38B1A8862569410024C90A
Viewpoints : When a cop is shot, we all bleed
ON Aug. 8, a St. Louis cop named Robert Stanze was murdered while trying to do his job. Since the officer's death, friends have been asking what I was going to write about it. The common expectation was that I'd do a "where are they now?" piece about the community activists who always seem to sprout like mushrooms after a cop shoots some misunderstood felon.
To be honest, my first reaction was to do just that. But I rejected that notion for a couple of reasons.
For one thing, in a free society, citizens have the right -- perhaps, even, the obligation -- to question police conduct.
A lot of the people I see on TV waving placards and chanting slogans after a police shooting strike me as insincere publicity hounds seeking to exploit the moment. I've always felt that if the deceased had this many friends while he was alive, he probably wouldn't be deceased to begin with. But it's a far better thing to tolerate a few loudmouths than it is to accept the alternative. No thinking person who ever worked for a police department wants to live in a police state. I was thus reluctant to suggest blanket condemnation of the protesters.
Libertarian instincts notwithstanding, the experience that really altered my perspective about this tragedy was the funeral. It came as no surprise that law enforcement types turned out in huge numbers. The memorial mass was celebrated at a basilica packed to capacity with every conceivable variant of police uniform.
Hundreds more waited outside. An impressive turnout was to be expected, however, because cops have a reputation for sticking together. What wasn't expected was what happened once the funeral procession left the church.
Hundreds of cars followed the hearse from the city's central corridor to a suburban cemetery. Traffic was stopped for miles as the procession took some 45 minutes to pass any given point. Thousands of onlookers lined the route to pay their respect. They were joined by inconvenienced motorists, their hectic schedules interrupted, who simply abandoned their autos to gaze at the spectacle before them.
The crowd stood wordlessly, the quiet of the day broken only by the ghostly rush of the passing patrol cars and the distant drone of a police helicopter. A silent tribute to the fallen centurion.
THE reaction of the public convinced me that the community at large really does understand what cops consider to be their private burden. In a police state, you see, nobody mourns a cop. People who feel that they are oppressed don't grieve the loss of their oppressor. In a democratic society, however, the cops play a different role -- they're peace officers, not an army of occupation.
Any grade school civics student can tell you that our nation is governed by the rule of law. Enacted by elected representatives, this law is the collective will of the people and no one stands above it. Pretty words for school kids.
In practice, legislators who sit in granite statehouses pass bills, which are signed into law by governors who sit in leather chairs. Judges who sit in oaken chambers adjudicate the resulting statutes. The operative word here is "sit." It's the cops who give the law legs.
They stand on streets of concrete and asphalt, placing themselves in harm's way, to ensure that the entire process has some practical utility. Without them, legislative will would have no more import than the bar stool observation that "there oughta be a law."
Judges would be reduced to oddly costumed custodians of empty courthouses, for few felons volunteer to stand trial. In a very real sense, cops are the incarnation of our collective will. Their duties are dictated by the laws we demand.
I didn't know Bob Stanze, but I know his type. They're the compassionate, flawed, cynical do-gooders we call "the city's finest." These knights in dented armor are the best we've got to offer because they represent our collective hopes for a decent and just society. The bone-chilling call of "Officer down!" is, in fact, an "SOS" for our way of life and the values we share.
The next time you hear that a cop has fallen -- and, regrettably, that time will come -- don't "send to know for whom the bell tolls." It tolls for us all.
LAW ENFORCEMENT\M. W. Guzy, St. Louis, is a former city police officer who works in the St. Louis sheriff's office. The views expressed are his own. His commentaries appear every other week, usually on Wednesdays.\viewpoint @postnet.com
© 2000 St. Louis Post-Dispatch
[This message has been edited by Oatka (edited August 20, 2000).]
http://www.postnet.com/postnet/stories.nsf/ByDocID/EC8D64A38D38B1A8862569410024C90A
Viewpoints : When a cop is shot, we all bleed
ON Aug. 8, a St. Louis cop named Robert Stanze was murdered while trying to do his job. Since the officer's death, friends have been asking what I was going to write about it. The common expectation was that I'd do a "where are they now?" piece about the community activists who always seem to sprout like mushrooms after a cop shoots some misunderstood felon.
To be honest, my first reaction was to do just that. But I rejected that notion for a couple of reasons.
For one thing, in a free society, citizens have the right -- perhaps, even, the obligation -- to question police conduct.
A lot of the people I see on TV waving placards and chanting slogans after a police shooting strike me as insincere publicity hounds seeking to exploit the moment. I've always felt that if the deceased had this many friends while he was alive, he probably wouldn't be deceased to begin with. But it's a far better thing to tolerate a few loudmouths than it is to accept the alternative. No thinking person who ever worked for a police department wants to live in a police state. I was thus reluctant to suggest blanket condemnation of the protesters.
Libertarian instincts notwithstanding, the experience that really altered my perspective about this tragedy was the funeral. It came as no surprise that law enforcement types turned out in huge numbers. The memorial mass was celebrated at a basilica packed to capacity with every conceivable variant of police uniform.
Hundreds more waited outside. An impressive turnout was to be expected, however, because cops have a reputation for sticking together. What wasn't expected was what happened once the funeral procession left the church.
Hundreds of cars followed the hearse from the city's central corridor to a suburban cemetery. Traffic was stopped for miles as the procession took some 45 minutes to pass any given point. Thousands of onlookers lined the route to pay their respect. They were joined by inconvenienced motorists, their hectic schedules interrupted, who simply abandoned their autos to gaze at the spectacle before them.
The crowd stood wordlessly, the quiet of the day broken only by the ghostly rush of the passing patrol cars and the distant drone of a police helicopter. A silent tribute to the fallen centurion.
THE reaction of the public convinced me that the community at large really does understand what cops consider to be their private burden. In a police state, you see, nobody mourns a cop. People who feel that they are oppressed don't grieve the loss of their oppressor. In a democratic society, however, the cops play a different role -- they're peace officers, not an army of occupation.
Any grade school civics student can tell you that our nation is governed by the rule of law. Enacted by elected representatives, this law is the collective will of the people and no one stands above it. Pretty words for school kids.
In practice, legislators who sit in granite statehouses pass bills, which are signed into law by governors who sit in leather chairs. Judges who sit in oaken chambers adjudicate the resulting statutes. The operative word here is "sit." It's the cops who give the law legs.
They stand on streets of concrete and asphalt, placing themselves in harm's way, to ensure that the entire process has some practical utility. Without them, legislative will would have no more import than the bar stool observation that "there oughta be a law."
Judges would be reduced to oddly costumed custodians of empty courthouses, for few felons volunteer to stand trial. In a very real sense, cops are the incarnation of our collective will. Their duties are dictated by the laws we demand.
I didn't know Bob Stanze, but I know his type. They're the compassionate, flawed, cynical do-gooders we call "the city's finest." These knights in dented armor are the best we've got to offer because they represent our collective hopes for a decent and just society. The bone-chilling call of "Officer down!" is, in fact, an "SOS" for our way of life and the values we share.
The next time you hear that a cop has fallen -- and, regrettably, that time will come -- don't "send to know for whom the bell tolls." It tolls for us all.
LAW ENFORCEMENT\M. W. Guzy, St. Louis, is a former city police officer who works in the St. Louis sheriff's office. The views expressed are his own. His commentaries appear every other week, usually on Wednesdays.\viewpoint @postnet.com
© 2000 St. Louis Post-Dispatch
[This message has been edited by Oatka (edited August 20, 2000).]