There are always a few stories that didn’t make it to print for a variety of reasons, usually due to two ever-present inhibitors: space and time. But year-end reflection offers a small window to tie up any loose ends that might nagging, and with that in mind, this end-of-year note comes to you in two parts. Part one, King on patrol. Part two, this year’s (uninvited) anniversaries.
Part one:
Earlier in the year, I wrote about a photo I wasn’t supposed to share but couldn’t resist, even if in a slightly modified version. (“The photo you weren't supposed to see,” www.officer.com/10295913.) There are several other great stories and pictures we captured at Police Week this year that didn’t make it into our July issue (but a few of them were included in this issue’s “Never-before-seen photos” section, Page 44). One in particular features the stately King, a U.S. Park Police horse on mounted patrol with his officer partner. I come across the horse the bright afternoon that preceded the 2011 Candlelight Vigil at the Law Enforcement Officers Memorial site in Washington, D.C. At the moment, the memorial was overflowing with the blue-and-white-shirted Police Unity Tour riders. Taking a breath outside of the memorial walls after having just watched a newly widowed young woman and her family set eyes on her husband’s name on the wall for the first time, I saw a tall, molasses-brown horse with its shiny coat glowing in the sun. While observing, I saw a small girl with waist length dark hair ask and be granted permission to pet the horse, which she did gently, patting his muzzle and speaking softly. A couple white-rope honor guard officers bearing Fairfax, Va., patches on their left arms chatted with the officer on King’s back. A man in plainclothes and his wife approached a few seconds later, identifying himself as an out-of-state mounted officer in town for Police Week. A little while later, that officer got the chance to take a seat on King, which was fun to watch as a wide grin crossed his face. The officer also had to take a break for King’s doody duty, which drew inherent chortles (though it certainly comes with mounted patrol turf). We don’t get many opportunities to photograph mounted patrol—particularly the horse power part of it—not to mention amongst a giant crowd of law enforcement and its supporters on an incredibly gorgeous, warm day with ideal sun lighting. For the few minutes I got to observe, King helped facilitate connections and conversation in a microcosmic Police Week moment, a miniature representation of what officers come to do during the week recognition for the service and sacrifice of law enforcement and memorializing fallen brothers and sisters. The events during National Police Week at the memorial are moving in themselves, and within each event, there are these microcosms of experience; slices of the ambiance happening for a moment in its own universe. So I share with you this image of King, who helped me experience the juxtaposing grief and pride of Police Week as I spent one moment with the kind, heartbroken wife of a slain officer and the next with cops and kids delighting in King’s aptly noble aura.
Part two: Pearl Harbor Day
This year commemorated the 10th anniversary of the terrorist attacks on 9/11, But that anniversary drew other unforeseen feelings of loss from some, including a retired 82-year-old public safety worker who wrote in to a local paper (http://bit.ly/PHattack) noting that the attack on Pearl Harbor, Hawaii, in 1941 was equally destructive but he felt seems to go unjustly undiscussed. And the two attacks do share several unfortunate similarities including the surprise of the attack, the devastation of the American people, great loss of life and a milestone year: while this September marked 10 years since 9/11, this December marks 70 years since the attack on Pearl Harbor.
I believe the man’s sentiment came from his view of disproportionate commemorating for one attack over another, but I do beg to differ from the notion that one anniversary is more important than the other. With the anniversary for both events so linked, I’ve found to think of one is to think of the other. In fact, many of the folks we talked to for our 9/11 tribute referenced the 1941 violence, with Det. Roger Knight, an officer in Washington and retired military vet, telling me, “I guess now I know what the people felt like on December 7 when the Japanese bombed Pearl Harbor.” I found this allusion between the two events suitable and an unfortunate tie between the generations. But I have to agree with both Knight and the disdainful retired fire chief who wrote in to a local paper. After sharing his responses for the “Hindsight 2011” piece on Page 10, Knight thanked us for the 9/11 stories, adding, “Perhaps in 20-30 years someone will read it and reflect on what has changed, what we have learned.” I think both attacks take a rightful seat in the hall of American history. But to commemorate one is not to disservice the other, or rather, disservice those who were killed as a result of these tragedies and the impact of the attacks on the nation. The infamy in both cases is unavoidable, but I’d like to amend President Franklin D. Roosevelt’s 70-year-old sentiment to say that rather than live, it may be best if infamy in both cases rests with these two instances alone instead.
