Along with hundreds of others, on the night of Dec 7, 2017, I went to the courthouse square to honor Officer Kenneth Copeland, who had recently been killed in the line of duty. It was a memorable night on many levels, but for openers, out of the blue it snowed that night. It started as freezing rain, then big heavy wet flakes began to fall. Within half an hour, I could hardly hold my ice-cloaked umbrella upright.
It was miserably wet and cold. Some people left early. But none of the many officers did, and since I was surrounded, I figured I should stick it out with them to the end of the ceremony because after all, they never get to pick comfort over circumstance. My exact thought, over and over: how on earth can they do their jobs in this kind of torment? As my umbrella got heavier and the crowd shrank together (it sort of compacted as everyone was using each other for weather protection) I got pushed closer and closer into the backs of two visibly touched lady officers. They were leaning on each other for support, clearly crying at times.
Since all I could really see of the ceremony was the giant POLICE lettering on the back of their jackets, and it was hard to hear, I spent much of the time pondering the lives of all the devoted first responders around me. They are so tough, and yet in many ways so vulnerable. I could just “see” those yellow slickers out in bitter weather, and chaotic nights, and floods, and wild winds, and hostile places. With numb feet and frozen hands, for almost an hour I watched the heartbroken friends in front of me, imagining all that it takes 24/7 to keep the rest of us safe and dry and warm and civil. And that made me think of recent anti-police headlines (TYJ, none from here!) which made me mad in addition to sad.
By the time it was over, I was an emotional mess. I found myself needing the comfort of telling the two women how much they had moved me, and how sorry I was for the loss of their friend. That’s how I came to meet Claudia Cormier for the first time and only time. She was gracious, and I walked away with her elegant features (and the back of her icy snowy jacket) imprinted forever on my brain as the very real very human face of law enforcement.
It’s such a hard job, and they DO IT ALL FOR US!!! What happened to her on an ordinary Saturday night, and to Kenneth Copeland on an ordinary workday .... no words. I know the whole town is praying, let’s not quit until she is back at her desk. Or better yet, let’s expand our prayers and gratitude to all peace officers everywhere, and pray for them always.
Cathy Dillon,
Crystal River Inn
