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Array
(
[sid] => 103538
[catid] => 1
[aid] => mick
[title] => ENDURING BLUE (POLICE)
[time] => 2005-08-15 07:03:37
[hometext] => Two groups exude camaraderie and fidelity as basic ingredients to their members . . . the police profession, and the United States Marine Corp. I've lived both. The celebration of death is of equal imoortance as the celebration of life.
[bodytext] => There is no line that seperates brothers-in-arms. Life and death co-exist on the same plane. 
Here we are together again, to lift a toast to a departed friend. A gesture is all we have left to give to a life we once found time to live. None of us sits and awaits the call we know will eventually sound for us all. But, as each of us passes from here to there he must first return to the exact spot where the group was transformed from boys into men, and camaraderie’s birth did surely begin. Like brothers we fought at the drop of a hat; and, like the friends we were, made peace, faster than that. We knew each other’s secrets (and they’re still untold) … lived a thousand adventures, and watched each one unfold. We met so many people … where do we begin? With those people we served … or with those we called friend? Did the ones we served ever come to our aid if the risk was too great, or, if they were afraid? Did they ever step forward to put in a good word, when many could have, but refused to be heard? Or, did they, so often, in the darkest of night, add dozens of voices to their chorus of spite ? Instead of thanks for a job well done what we got most often was, “ He looks like the one who treated me roughly, then took me to jail where they searched me, printed me, and placed me in hell just because of three robbers. I was the unlucky one caught inside the business, waving the gun”. Everyone was unlucky, but guilty? Hell NO! According to them there was no quid pro quo. The strength of our legacy tells who we are, where we’ve been, and, the things we attempted when men were just men. The scars we still bear (when our worlds did collide) are the same ones we display with so much pent-up pride. The unbroken circle is our breed’s final test and can only be broken with our last laid to rest. May that never happen to such men of good cheer; may the new be found worthy to recruit every year. Then, as each of them reaches the end of the line, may their rich flavor seep into the mellowing wine. Then, pass the cup forward, hold its contents up high; let it touch your lips lightly, say your last soft goodbye! As the numbers decrease, accept new members true; then, go forward eternal, with our long line of blue. Lt. John F. Templin Shreveport Police Dept. (Ret'd) [comments] => 5 [counter] => 189 [topic] => 31 [informant] => reflections [notes] => [ihome] => 0 [alanguage] => english [acomm] => 0 [haspoll] => 0 [pollID] => 0 [score] => 30 [ratings] => 6 [editpoem] => 1 [associated] => [topicname] => StoryPoetry )
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