This note was sent, anonymously, by one of the Euless PD officers. Thank you so much for sharing.
“A few months ago, when we were on shift together, Dave sent me a message through our unit computers and asked, “Where you at?” I told him I was catching up on paperwork at Midway Park. He rolls up a short time later in his patrol unit (#904) and, with a serious face, asks: “Bro, smell my unit. Do you smell anything?” Knowing Dave, I immediately assumed he was trying to set me up for a fart joke, so I told him, “Brother, I’m not going to pull your finger.” He laughed, but again, with a serious face, says: “For real. Tell me, does my car smell like a cigar?” He apparently couldn’t resist the urge to try out a stogie around Christmas time and I couldn’t blame him. His unit did smell a bit like a cigar, but the boys at our local car wash fixed him up good. Just don’t tell Chief.
That was what I used to think of every time I saw unit 904. It was, until that day at least, when he was again in Unit 904. His unit sat parked where he put it at that park when he arrived to assist his brothers. It sat there for hours after that God forsaken moment he was taken from us. None of us wanted to move or touch or disturb anything with it. We wanted it to be just as Dave left it. As if, somehow, maybe Dave would come pick it back up and drop it back off at base. I know, it doesn’t make any sense. Nothing on that day did. It still doesn’t. I don’t know. I know I won’t drive 904 anymore though. That’s Dave’s unit.
Rest easy brother.”