Lawrence Hall, HSG
Mhall46184@aol.com
First Responders: Gifts
of Service
Or watch the things you gave your life to, broken,
And stoop and build ’em up with worn-out tools
-Kipling, “If”
Finding a police car parked in front of our country
estate along Beer Can Road and County Dump Extension one morning was a
surprise. Usually there are only a few rabbits inviting the hawks to breakfast,
a tire-flattened possum or two, and the jewel-like glint of fresh beer cans in
the morning sun. We later learned that
there was a search on for someone who had been called into court and had not
responded appropriately. In the event, we learned that there was more than
that. The following interruption to the neighborhood’s rural tranquility lasted
some 24 hours.
When the Metternichian state of repose is disrupted by
fire, flood, false ideologies, or criminal behavior, the causation of a moment can
require a prolonged and patient rebuilding of civilization, even when that is
on a local level.
This resolution requires the prolonged endeavors of
skilled men and women of energy, professionalism, and a sense of mission.
This day-night-day event required, to the best of my
limited knowledge, game wardens, medics, state police, city police, sheriffs
and deputies from two counties, police vehicles, police foot patrols, horsemen,
search dogs and their handlers, rescue vehicles, helicopters, drones, base
establishments in two counties, stand-by service by fire departments and others,
and gallons of coffee.
In an aside let us note here that our area sheriffs and
other law enforcement leaders never appear on teevee wearing tailored golly-gee-whiz
pressed uniforms with brass buttons and shiny ornaments and a bunch of stars on
their collars as if they were fleet admirals in The Glorious and Majestic
All-Powerful and Ever-Victorious Ruritanian Navy. A proper copper just can’t swan around in all
that sartorial nonsense while chasing a meth-cooker through the woods or
sorting out a drunken brawl or waiting out a crisis for 24 hours or comforting
a weeping mom because her child’s not going to come home.
And now I will get back on task:
Many of our first responders are volunteers, and so in
addition to their support-the-family jobs they also serve the community on
their own time and often at their own expense.
We need them.
Civilization, grounded on thousands of years of human
endeavor and faith and culture, celebrated in music, art, literature, and
healthy sport, is at times a rickety structure that requires our constant watch
and maintenance. When even a few among us fail to do our part, the failure
makes a big mess for others to take care of.
Genesis is clear that we all fall short, and the
New Testament is equally clear that there is hope but that we must participate
in that hope. Passivity just won’t do.
Kipling reminds us of that in “If,” that marvelous
sequence of dependent clauses just as in the Texas Declaration of Independence,
reminding us of our failings and our mission. And if we sometimes feel that we
are the “worn-out tools,” well, maybe we are, but we still have to do our part
for the safety and security of our neighbors and ourselves.
Some among us, our first responders in all the services,
are especially good at building up again broken things and broken lives. They
truly “…fill the unforgiving minute / With sixty
seconds’ worth of distance run,” and we must always remember that.
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