Better And Better

If you don't draw yours, I won't draw mine. A police officer, working in the small town that he lives in, focusing on family and shooting and coffee, and occasionally putting some people in jail.

Tuesday, October 23, 2007

Funeral escort.

A thousand people doesn't sound like much.
But it is, in a town twice that size.
All those people add a heartwarming touch
Seen through the mourners' eyes.

At least a hundred kids in front of the school,
Each with a little flag to wave.
Making even those who are cynics as a rule
Believe there's something to save.

His life ended by a bomb at the road side.
He returns now to the place he knew best.
And our little town gathers in sorrowful pride
To see its son carried to his final rest.

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At Tuesday, October 23, 2007 5:59:00 PM, Anonymous Anonymous said...

Because Freedom is never free, and Liberty is never more than a generation away from being extinguished.

For the rest of us, we have a great deal to live up to. As Capt. John Miller said to one Private Ryan in the movie, "Earn this."

We can but try.

At Tuesday, October 23, 2007 6:26:00 PM, Anonymous Anonymous said...

That sounds exactly like the funeral we had in our town recently. While it was very sad, it also brought out a lot of community pride.

At Wednesday, October 24, 2007 8:55:00 AM, Blogger Jay G said...

I'm guessing in TX there's much less of a need for Patriot Guard riders, eh?

Sorry to hear of your town's loss.

At Wednesday, October 24, 2007 10:38:00 AM, Blogger Tam said...

I've noticed that Texas and Tennessee don't often have to look to dead politicians for naming bridges.

At Wednesday, October 24, 2007 10:58:00 AM, Blogger Murphy said...

Semper Fidelis.

At Wednesday, October 24, 2007 3:51:00 PM, Blogger JD said...

Something I found on the net. . .

A Soldier's Last Judgement

The soldier stood and faced his God, which must always come to pass. He hoped his shoes were shining just as brightly as his brass.

"Step forward now, you soldier, How shall I deal with you? Have you always turned the other cheek? To My Church have you been true?"

The soldier squared his shoulders and said, "No, Lord, I guess I ain't Because those of us who carry guns Can't always be a saint."

"I've had to work most Sundays And at times my talk was rough, And sometimes I've been violent, Because the streets are awfully tough."

"But, I never took a penny That wasn't mine to keep... Though I worked a lot of overtime When the bills just got too steep."

"And I never passed a cry for help, Though at times, I shook with fear, And sometimes, God forgive me, I've wept unmanly tears."

"I know I don't deserve a place Among most people here, as They never wanted me around Except to calm their fears."

"If you've a place for me here, Lord, It needn't be so grand, I never expected or had too much, So if you don't, I'll understand."

There was a silence all around the throne Where the saints had often trod As the soldier waited quietly, For the judgment of his God,

"Step forward now you soldier, You've borne your burdens well, Walk peacefully on Heaven's streets, You've done your time in Hell."



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