Keeping us all safe and alive

Imagine you are a police officer. You dearly love your family, your job, your town. You are alive and full of life.

You receive a call. You arrive at your destination and enter.

You turn the corner in a hallway, trying not to kill the man you’ve come to arrest. Indeed, you are trying very, very hard not to do that (though you easily could, if you so choose).

You are also, in fact, trying very hard to prevent him from killing someone you have never even met in your life, a complete stranger.

You turn the corner to try to calm the situation. Before you can say a word you are shot point blank in the face.

You are dead.

By the way, your name was Mark Vance (your pic is seen at the end of this column).

I was privileged to attend the annual memorial service for Bristol Tennessee police officer Mark Vance one November evening several years back. You can visit his memorial yourself anytime you’d like. Just walk straight across Broad Street in Bristol TN from the Mill Creek parking area (at Steele Creek Park) and you will find the Mark Vance Memorial Greenway.

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I taught the man who took Mark’s life. This man had previously been a student of mine at the Bristol Virginia Jail, where I taught adult education (GED) and Good News ministry classes for nearly a quarter century. I won’t even mention his name, as it is not worthy to be mentioned in the same column as that of Mark Vance.

Two nights a week for several months, I shook the man’s hand who would one day kill an innocent officer in the line of duty, an officer who was trying his best not to kill this young man.

So far as I know, this young man has never said he was sorry for taking Mark Vance’s life. He has only offered excuses for his behavior. Yes, he was sentenced to many years in prison, and deservedly so.

Yes, we condemn this young man’s actions, and well we should. Yet, if we are not mindful, our attitudes toward the police can become much like that of this young man. We … yes, even you and I, my friends … can make excuses when we are pulled over for speeding. No, we might not willfully murder someone, but we might very well ultimately kill someone just the same (perhaps even ourselves or our own family) were it not for a police officer pulling us over.

We should all be ever grateful for those who serve us in law enforcement.

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While away from home visiting an ex-inmate/student in a big city late one night, I stumbled upon an armed street gang in a back alley while taking a short cut back to my car. Yes, I took a shortcut on a somewhat isolated downtown street late at night. (Note to self: do not do such a thing again.) In Bristol, I would have had no problem. I would likely have known at least half of them (if we had such street gangs in Bristol, which … thankfully … we do not).

But I was not faring well with these people. They didn’t seem to appreciate the fact that I’d taught a couple thousand other souls much like them, and that I understood their plight and poverty as much as anyone they’d likely ever meet. They wanted my money, cell phone, and credit cards. I also heard one say, “The ignorant fool, let’s work him over.”

Suddenly a flashing blue light whirled around the corner, coming quickly straight toward us. The shadowy cowards scattered to the wind. I was saved from my ignorance by the good people in blue.

As are we all, my friends, every single day of our lives, whether we know it, or not.