A Memory: Bottles & Dinosaurs

One of my earliest memories must be from not too long after Dave was born. He wasn’t a newborn, but probably less than a year old. That would make me around 4 years old. We lived in New Jersey at the time. I remember being in the bedroom on the bed, with Dave laying there, and my mom. She had brought a bottle into the bedroom, I guess in anticipation of feeding him. I’m not sure why, but she had to leave the room for a moment and she told me to wait to feed him till she came back. When she came back, I was, of course, already giving him the bottle.

I have no idea if this is a true memory or if I made this up at some point. No matter, there are a million little and big memories I have of Dave, starting with that one. Around every corner, there is something that reminds me of some part of our growing up together, which is both painful and beautiful to think about. Sometimes I can smile about those thoughts, and sometimes I just sink into sadness at the idea that this chapter of my life, the chapter with Dave, is now written. Because of that it’s that much more important to try to recollect and write up those memories. I will attempt to do to the best of my ability with my future posts.

An obvious childhood memory that comes to mind is that when Dave was little he LOVED dinosaurs – he knew EVERYTHING there was to know about each of them. He read this kids’ magazine about them and learned about what they looked like, what they ate, when they lived, how big they were, where they lived and so forth. You could ask him anything and he could rattle off the facts. They were his absolute favorite animals. He watched “Land Before Time” a million times, getting upset every time the momma-dinosaur dies.

He also collected dinosaur toys. He had standard “regular” dinosaurs, but also a collection of dinosaurs that were miniatures from a museum in London. He and I both got a set during some vacation. We would build structures, the higher the better, out of books for the “baby dinosaurs” and the big dinosaurs were the bad guys. Well, the carnivores were the bad guys – the T-Rex and the velociraptors. The herbivores were usually some kind of allies. Most of the game was just the little guys going about their business, and the bad guys trying to get them. Or, if one had been captured the little guys would band together and save it – always in time before getting eaten! Sometimes the little guys even helped out their bigger friends, though obviously they couldn’t scale the structures, so we’d have to build traps to keep everyone safe.

I loved playing this game with him as much as he loved to play them, but sometimes, my girly side wanted to incorporate some other ideas. So, occasionally, there’d be a dinosaur and my-little-pony cross-over event. I don’t remember those nearly as well.

A Thought: “Don’t fear us. Don’t hate us.”

The Facebook world is extremely emotionally draining to me right now. I have friends on all sides of the political spectrum and the anger, misunderstandings and generalizations are so glaring, so confusing, so overwhelming, that most of the time I just feel that this whole problem is hopeless. I’m stuck in the middle, able to see the various sides, but the gulf between the parties seems so vast. I’m confused that people only seem to recognize the pain on one side of the equation: Black pain or Blue pain. In my mind, it’s all just pain. And, instead of yelling at each other from opposite sides of the table, we should acknowledge when someone is hurting. I feel utterly helpless.

This helplessness has caused me to avoid commenting on a lot of controversial issues, not because I’m ignorant to them or because I’ve put them out of my mind, but because my thoughts are confused, my emotional capacity has been drained by the loss of my brother and best friend, and it simply feels like no reasonable dialogue can be had. At least not in my current state, and definitely not on social media.

But, once in a while, I see a message that I think captures something important – a message that seeks to clarify and reconcile differences, a message that emphasizes that we each can do better in our own little world, a message that ultimately desires unity. With his permission, I wanted to post one such messages by one Texas police officer.

Thank you for your words, officer. And thank you for keeping Dave in your heart as you go out in service of our communities.

“This is a little outside the norm here for me. You guys know this is usually an outlet for my sense of humor. But this was heavy on my mind today. In light of recent events, pretty much right at my own front door, I’m sitting here looking for the motivation to go to work, wondering why I do this. Then I’m very aware that 100s of thousand others across this land are going to work as well with the uncertainty of what’s waiting for us when we check in service. My thoughts are: we are peacekeepers; it’s time to work. However recently, we are hated targets.

Two young officers I respect have both reached out to this old man and asked, “what keeps you going?” One answer is “It’s what we chose to do.” The other one, most recently, pretty much answered her own question when she told me “We do it because that’s our job. We strap up because we are warriors.” She pretty much nailed it. That’s what we are for the peaceful.

I think we are the excuse used by the lawless for violence and now have to be, and need to be, the catalyst for change. We aren’t the killers many accuse us of being, but sometimes a life is taken, but NEVER because it’s a desire to do so.

There’s no way to describe what comes over you and takes place inside you when you point a gun at another human being. That’s something and someplace you never want to be. Well, we don’t either.

I think back over the last 30 years, why I chose this profession, or why it chose me. Simply put, catch the bad guys and help everyone else. It turns into a job of dealing with more bad guys than helping it seems like.

I think tonight, I’ll try to pick up where Dave left off. David Hofer, one of our young officers whose life was taken recently, was a good officer and a kind young man. Dave, I think, pretty much set the example or set the bar for kindness to everyone, good or bad. Tonight my goal, other than to go home at the end of the shift, is to see how many positive encounters I can have, to be like Dave!

My beat is largely minority with some that have been identified as a threat to police. I personally don’t see ethnicity. I don’t see color. I see behavior and deal with the behavior. I see what’s needed and what needs or has to be done. I think you’ll find almost all in my profession see that the same way, believe it or not.

Don’t fear us. Don’t hate us. Just know we are there, doing a job most would never want to do. So much hate in this world. Someone I don’t know yet, will want or need my help today, so I guess I’ll get ready to go to work now and see what’s waiting out there.

Pray for the Blue, say a few words of encouragement to the next cop you see.

Pray for peace, love one another!”

A Story: The Open Door

“I do not know what to say to start with.  I do not have anything profound to say.  It still hurts.  Dave’s locker is still right across from mine, a St. Michael sticker permanently affixed to it, never to be opened again.  I have Dave’s name on my bracelet, the mourning band with your badge is still attached to my gear.  I am sorry.  As one of the senior guys that was on his shift, I am sorry Dave came to our little town for a better life only to be taken from us.  It has been hard sitting down and telling this story because only few days after this happened Dave would be gone. 

 Now that I have brought everyone down, I hope I can liven it up and they have a laugh at this, because I still do.  Just know some “colorful” language will be edited…

We had been having a rash of daytime apartment burglaries and I was patrolling one of the complexes on my end of town.  While patrolling I located a patio sliding glass door opened up about a foot.  Not sure what I had yet, I asked for an additional unit, and Dave was dispatched (it should be noted that he was already enroute to back me up when he heard me check out). 

Upon Dave’s arrival we went to have a closer look at the door.  This patio was probably about 12 feet long by about 4 foot wide with probably a 4 foot railing across it.  The ground surrounding it was standing water from recent heavy rains. 

 While we did not see any signs of burglary, we did see one of the biggest pit bulls in existence lounging on the chair looking at us with a “what are you idiots looking at” look on its face. 

Dave: “Bro, we gotta search it.”
Me:  “Uh no, you see the size of that dog.”
Dave:  “Policy bro, policy says we search.”
Me:  “You go first then tough guy, I’ll follow you.”
Dave:  “Bro, you’re all former SWAT and Army, and an FTO, I need to learn from you. You go first!”
Me:  “As the senior officer on scene I am making the call we not entering this apartment.”
Dave:  “Bro, policy says we search. I don’t want to get fired!”

It was clear that the apartment had not been burglarized.  We could see laptops and TVs inside, and nothing appeared thrown around.  Dave was also clearly using “bro” intentionally in all his sentences.  All professionalism went out the window as we jokingly bantered back and forth about Policy and the size of the pit bull like kids on a playground, all the while this huge dog is eye balling us, before I finally said “I’ll call Sarge.” 

 So we walk back to the squads and I call Sarge who AGREED with me (Dave shot me the bird as I wrote “told you so punk” on my notepad) to not enter the apartment, but we needed to try and shut the door. 

So, we then went back to the apartment to shut the patio door, only to find that thepit bull was now GONE. 

Me:  “Where the hell that dog go?!”
Dave: <cackling> “Bro, he’s hiding, waiting to eat your face when you go shut that door.”
Me:  “You shut it… you’re a foot taller than me and can get over that railing better…and I’m a better shot than you.”
Dave:  <still cackling>  “it’s your call bro. You found it.”

So we came up with the plan: as I hopped over, he would watch and cover me against the still hidden pit bull.  The apartment patio is several feet below the level of the parking lot, and I got in position to hop the fence. I turn around and look back at Dave who now has his phone out.

Me:  “What the <blank> you doing?!”
Dave:  “Bro, when that dog jumps out at you, you’re either gonna end up in the mud or lose an arm, both of which will be awesome on youtube… but I promise I’ll only let him get one arm.”
Me:  “You mother…”
Dave:  <laughing almost uncontrollably>

Well, I made it over the railing without getting eaten, and got the door shut without seeing the dog again.  I am sure if anyone was watching they were like “what the hell is wrong with those cops.”

I know I could never do justice to the mannerisms and voice of Dave. I just hope those that knew him can insert him and know just how funny this was. 

Was I actually ever concerned about that dog?  Absolutely not! As much as we were joking around, I never once doubted Dave would be there if that dog had showed up. 

Miss you BRO, see you on the other side…”

~ P.B., Euless PD

A Story: End of Watch

“There was one day where I was sitting alone with Dave. He found this the perfect time  to question me about my worries in regards to making the move to Texas. “What’s your biggest fear about moving here?” I told him that in the NYPD Mike always had a partner and although Euless seems like a safe area, I just didn’t love the idea of him being alone. Dave instantly laughed. He said: “You think Mike will ever be alone? He’s MY partner, kiddddd! I always have his back. If that’s your biggest fear you’re fine. I’d die for him and that’s the truth.”

Fast forward a few months, Mike and Dave constantly reminded us of the movie End of Watch. “This movie is so completely like us” they’d say. Both Marta and I never laughed and said: “That’s not funny because one gets killed in the end.”

If you’ve never seen the End of Watch, I’d suggest keeping it that way. It is heartbreaking, but a true depiction of what police officers go through. In the movie, tragically, the officers were ambushed, leaving one officer to watch his partner get killed, which now more than ever hits home.

In the end, during David’s final moments, he was with Mike, Ed, and Mo and Dave did exactly what he had promised me he would do. He saved Mike’s life and there are no words to describe how thankful I am for what he did. He truly honored their brotherhood and will be honored as a hero forever in my eyes.

~ Stefanie O., Friend

In Memory: 06/13/16

Dear Police station. Thank you for all of the thing for help for making us be safe. thank you for teaching us safty rules at schools and doing traffic on schools thank you very much
Love, Gabby

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In Memory: 06/09/16

Dear, Euless Police Department
Thank you for helping our world and our community, thank you because you are keeping us safe from pepole and stragers. and other pepole but my mom and dad arnt relly stanges because  I know them relly well and my friends Thank you.
Thank you! polices
~ Ruhi

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