Non-Fiction
<i>Tears hard to hold back</i>
It is not every day that one sees a funeral procession of a police officer who died in the line of duty. I witnessed such a one, one of the most serious and spectacular processions that I have ever seen, a few days ago. In a civilized society, it is the police officers who safeguard law and order and keep things flowing. It is also the police that prevent crime. Without them society will be in chaos. A police officer, a nurse, a sweatshop factory worker, a city sanitary worker, a fireman, a postal worker, a farmer who grows things for us; they are the backbone of any society. They are the everyday heroes who we do not give a moment's thought. Some of them earn less than a dollar a day. When a police officer in the US dies in doing his job and leaves behind a mourning family, the entire police fraternity comes together to honour that slain officer. I've never seen such a procession before! I have read in the papers how a police officer's funeral is held, with the bag pipers marching on, twenty-one gun salute to the folding of the national flag which is given to the grief stricken family. Witnessing a funeral procession was something quite different and extraordinary. As I was taking my daily walk, near the intersection, close to my house, I saw about fifty police cars blocking all the roads. At mid-day the entire town stood at a standstill. For miles traffic was backed up. As I walked along the walking trail, I saw people gathered on all sides of the streets to view what was to come next. After about ten minutes the procession started as the body of the slain officer made its journey towards the church, the synagogue, the temple or the mosque. I did not know what faith he/she belonged to. But in that moment there was no need to analyze anything. All became one, from the fully uniformed police to civilians gathered together to give the slain officer a hero's send off. When the motorcade sped through the city it was an unforgettable sight. There are customs that have to be followed when assisting a grieving family with police funeral. All the officers I saw had a black ribbon placed over the badge which symbolized the law enforcement community in mourning. There was also a riderless horse and a pair of boots was hanging from the saddle that belonged to that officer. Everything is planned meticulously and to the minute for a line of duty funeral. All the rituals are followed to honour the fallen officer. It happens every day. A police officer gets killed somewhere while doing his job. It is the toughest and the most emotional aspect of being a police officer. Even though we take the police for granted and often think of them as a threatening presence and keep a safe distance from them, we all realize that they are there to ensure safety for the civilians. When an officer dies in the line of duty, in death he gets proper respect. This became obvious from seeing the sea of lined up police vehicles, all ready to send a hero through his/her last stop here on this earth. I was overwhelmed by the hundreds of police cars, the officers who gathered in that intersection showing the world the camaraderie and unity which is very unique of the police fraternity. It was a final tribute appropriate to celebrating a dead officer's life. The ceremonies commenced exactly at a quarter to one when a long line of motorcycle officers started the procession. After that, every sort of law enforcement vehicle came to sight, hundreds of them. Then midway through I saw the unmarked funeral home van with the body inside. The windows were tinted and as a result I did not see the coffin carrying the body. As I saw the van my eyes started to well up for this unknown hero. I held my tears and watched rest of the procession. After twenty minutes the procession ended with the chief of police being the last one to follow the procession of cars that were occupied by officers and their families. As the chief's cruiser passed by me, a little boy who was standing with his mother waved at him; he rolled down the window and nodded his head. The mother saluted him. That is when the tear that I was trying so hard to hold dropped. Watching the evening news I learned that it was a funeral service for a city police officer who had died trying to prevent a burglary in progress.
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