I seem to be on a roll today talking about the youngsters. This is slightly different because it concerns a blog maintained by a gentleman (and I know, without doubt, he is one) who goes by the name Cerberus, the Guardian of Hades. The Guardian keeps living folks from entering Hades. That is an apt description of his job–he’s a cop.
He is also a Former Marine. Two ties to my boys.
My middle son, as I’ve mentioned, is an officer in a city of about 300,000 people. He loves his job. He doesn’t care much for the politics, which endanger him and all the citizens of the city. Cerberus often has the same feelings, and is on what the military calls Terminal Leave.
We often decry abuse by officers based on what we see in some video. It does happen. But more often than not, the cop is doing what he can to subdue someone who has absolutely no interest in being subdued. My son is quite adept at using submittal techniques, but has run into a few situations where brute force applied liberally is all that will suffice. I keep telling him I don’t want to see him on TV in some home video. He has plenty of scars after only two years of dealing with the dregs.
I worried less about my sons in a combat zone than I do about the cop. His attacker may be some little old lady who looks as innocent as his own grandmother, as Cerberus can attest. He has learned to not look into a suspect’s eyes, but has other keys to use in being aware. The little tricks which come from experience. Things Cerberus tried to teach his cops.
Here’s one hoisted to you. I feel a bond, and understand the decision.