Pensions Not the Problem

Last night the local Fox News affiliate here in Philadelphia chose to devote a large portion of their 10:00pm news program spotlighting what they call "The Pension Problem" in Philadelphia, New Jersey and other places. In calling pensions the problem, Fox misled the public and missed an opportunity to highlight the truth for tax-payers.

Once again, the local news media, this time Fox in particular, cow-towed to liberal politicians and let them off the hook for a mess that they singularly have created. But not only that, they also portrayed hard-working city and state employees as the problem, seemed to be trying to pit tax-payers against pensioners, and never once keyed on the real problem.

That real problem? Out of control spending on issues, services, and frankly outright budgetary 'pork' over decades and decades as well as regular, intentional under-funding of employee pensions. All of that going on with little to no outcry from media watchdogs.

Fox missed an opportunity when they once again identified the real problems improperly in stating that "Pensions are at the heart of budget troubles in the state of New Jersey and in the city of Philadelphia."

Pensions are not the problem, politicians are the problem. Politicians who spend money that the city's citizens simply do not have and never did have on programs that make them feel and look better.

No, I am not going to take any time whatsoever to point out any particular program or project that I feel falls into this category. I will make one simple statement, however. If any fiscal conservative individual had been put in charge, this would not have happened.

A critic of my position might call that a copout. Frankly it is a simple acknowledgement that there are far too many such spending debacles. Get yourself a copy of the budget and go through it for yourself. Why are we spending any money on some of the programs at all? What made them Philadelphia's tax-payers responsiblity in the first place? There are many such items in every budget.

And further, Fox tried to blame a part of this on the stock market downturn. I have heard the exact same lament from Mayor Michael Nutter and other politicians. The fact is, the stock market should be almost a non-issue. If the city had funded the pensions fully all along, and invested that money safely, and not used it to cover other expenses, there wouldn't be any problem right now, or those would be minimal.

Further, nothing will change in Philadelphia until the city follows the lead of the citizens of New Jersey and begins to toss the liberal Democrats who have run our town into the ground over decades out onto the streets.

Governor Chris Christie has begun the difficult task of straightening out New Jersey's problems which were created by Democrats and RINO Republicans over decades in our neighbor state. Philadelphia needs exactly the same changes here in order to have any chance at saving itself from ruin.

Pensions are not some burdensome extravagance lavished upon privileged people. Speaking as someone who has been working for two decades with the promise of a city pension at the end of the line, what pensions are instead are a fringe benefit based on a solemn promise.

When I decided to take on the job of a Police Officer and go out onto the streets of Philadelphia day and night to fight crime, that promise of a decent pension at retirement was a huge reason for making that decision. The city gave me it's promise of that pension, and I along with numerous other officers gave them decades of hard work in return.

It's always bemoaned as some obvious fact that police officers "don't get paid enough" for the work that we do. Chasing bad men with guns up dark alleys, searching through dark buildings for wanted criminals, standing in the middle of thousands of vehicles to direct traffic safely are all on the enormous list of dirty, dangerous jobs.

Most of us do this job because we love it, that's true. Many, like me, are part of multiple familial generations of public servants for whom a part of the attraction is that knowledge that we are making a positive difference in our communities.

But we also have traded off that relatively low salary for dangerous, hazardous, and as we have seen highlighted here in Philadelphia over the past few years deadly work in exchange for benefits that are important to us including quality health coverage and secure retirement.

Again, those are things that the city of Philadelphia promised to us when we took this job decades ago. It was a promise the city made to my own father back in 1960 when he began to work for thirty years for this town as a police officer. It is a solemn promise that they owe both realistically and morally.

Now there is a little problem here. The "they" of whom I speak is a city. That means in functional terms it's tax-payers have to share in footing the bill for these services. They also have to share the blame for the problems for continually voting in the same politicians and Party and mentality year after year.

Those fiscal problems can be solved by fully funding all pension obligations, providing basic services, and cutting out the pork entirely. Not a single politician or official working for the city of Philadelphia should have a 'take-home car' for instance. Why should tax-payers be paying for the vehicles themselves as well as costly maintenance, fuel, insurance, and so on? Outrageous on it's face.

If the city of Philadelphia had real fiscal and social conservatives running the show, the budget and services would be slashed and taxes lowered rather than raised. This would make Philly attractive once again for residents and businesses. More businesses here, more jobs. The cycle would reverse.

But no, the liberal socialist mindset is not only alive and well in Philadelphia and most other big cities in America today, it has spread to our national government as well. Tax and spend, spend and tax: the liberal socialist mantra.

No, Fox Philly, pensions are not the problem. The out of control spending of politicians is the problem. And since the vast majority of those politicians and all of the power are liberal Democrats with socialist thought processes, there should be the proper direction for your news features and stories.

When the media begins to challenge the power structure that has been in place in Philadelphia for decades, begins to call a spade a spade in naming specifically the Democratic Party and the liberal spending policies as the true problem, then they might have some integrity and credibility.

Stop pitting citizens against citizens, tax payers against employees, one hard-working Philadelphian against another. Instead, Fox Philly and other media outlets, turn your Constitutionally-mandated and protected power against the powers-that-be who got us into this mess and keep us wallowing in it. That is your job. Go earn your pensions as we earn ours.

Thank You, God

Happy Thanksgiving to everyone who takes the time to read these thoughts of mine. Anyone who cares enough about the way you think and express yourself to actually use some of their valuable time to bother reading is certainly worth thanking.

There are many others in my life for whom I am thankful that they are a part. There are many things, situations, events, objects, opportunities for which I am particularly thankful this year. But there is one above all others to whom I am grateful for providing the blessings of all those others in my life.

Thank you, God.

Thank you for the wife whom you directed into my life more than 17 years ago. Thank you for providing to her the gifts that have enabled her to grow with me, forgive me, love me. Thank you particularly for the gift of the time we've spent together all these years. Most particularly, for bringing us together in an understanding and acceptance of faith in your son, Jesus Christ.

Thank you for my daughters and my grandchildren. They have provided incredible love, color, and depth to the experiences of my lifetime. Thank you for all they have taught me and brought me, more than they probably know or could understand. Thank you for the gift of continuing to enjoy them as they all grow and mature, and I will continue to offer special prayers for their increased spiritual growth.

Thank you for this home that you have provided for my wife and I, and for the opportunities that we have had over the years to improve and secure it for ourselves. Thank you for the enjoyment of our family and friends here, some as their home, some as regular visitors, some as infrequent guests. All as welcome today as they have ever been at any time previously.

Thank you for my education, particularly this year with the achievement of a life long goal to graduate from college. Thank you for the opportunities provided to me by the Philadelphia Police Department, the Community College of Philadelphia, and Saint Joseph's University and all of the good people who manage those programs. And going back even further, to the people at Our Lady of Mount Carmel and Saint John Neumann for providing the educational and spiritual foundation that inspired those later goals.

Thank you for the gift of health, and for a reasonable amount of financial security and prosperity in times that have been difficult for many others. Well aware of the difficult times that I have experienced in the past, both physically and materially, I will never take these particular blessings for granted, knowing full well that challenges may lie ahead in the coming years.

Thank you for continuing to inspire Americans within this great nation that was founded with and grew under your direct blessings. Thank you for the men and women who still remember your primary role in that founding, in our past, in our present, and in our future. Thank you for all of those who refuse to surrender to the efforts to turn our nation away from your path. Thank you for not turning away from America when so many Americans have turned away from you.

Thank you for another incredible season of sporting enjoyment from the Philadelphia Phillies, as well as for the gift of the game and for inspiring my own passion for it's enjoyment over the years as both a spectator and a participant. Thank you for getting to experience the thrill of the Phillies winning two World Series titles in my lifetime, and watching them compete in three others. Bless their organization with continued success, and we fans with continued opportunities to enjoy their play.

Thank you for the gifts that you have given me to express myself, both verbally and in writing. These gifts have allowed me opportunities that would not have come along otherwise. Opportunities to serve my community as a police officer, and to serve police officers and others as a teacher. The opportunity to express my feelings on issues of importance here at my website. And now the opportunity to express your Word as a lector for my parish.

Thank you for the meal that I am going to enjoy with some of my family members this particular Thanksgiving Day. For the turkey and stuffing and vegetables and trimmings. For the warm, happy home in which we will enjoy that feast. For the people with whom we will share that meal. And thank you for all of the meals that I am privileged to share throughout the year with all of my loved ones at every opportunity.

Thank you, God. Thank you for my life and for the people in that life. For all of the family members, friends, co-workers, acquaintances, priests, teachers, service providers. My one prayer this Thanksgiving Day is that every one of them, particularly those who intentionally turn away from you, or who do not fully understand or accept the sacrifice of Christ, that their hearts and minds and souls may be opened to the full measure of your love, forgiveness, and grace.

Nigger: Just a Word, or Something More?

A Philadelphia Police Officer is in some hot water today thanks to racial comments he made while escorting a college student journalist. It brings to the fore a legitimate question: are words such as 'nigger', 'spic', 'gook', 'harp', 'nip', 'chink', 'fag' or 'gook' simply that, words, or are they more? I've heard this argument made any number of times, that these are just words, and if people are going to keep getting offended by words like 'nigger' then they are setting themselves up for a lifetime of taking offense. True enough in that any discussion on this issue, be it in the local newspapers, at the office water cooler, in an interview room at a police facility, on the internet, or in the halls of Congress or the United Nations is not going to change people's habits. It is not going to stop people from using these words, either in their most benign sense or their most derogatory. I have also heard the argument made that questions why, for instance, black people are so offended by the word 'nigger' when it is uttered by a white man or anyone from any other race, and yet they toss it around with ease among one another. 'Yo, he my nigger' or 'You one stupid nigger' or many other usages too numerous to mention come to mind. I have heard black people use these exact phrases among one another without anyone taking offense and without an eyebrow raised. For a long time in my life, I just didn't get it either. I thought that it was just another way for a black person to try to gain sympathy, to feign victimization by the white man, to play the race card. If I tried to list for you how many times in my life that I was called 'honkey' or 'whitey' or 'white boy' or 'cracker' or 'mick', it would fill a book. If I listed for you how many times those words offended me when used towards me, you could count those times on one hand. So I just didn't get it. Then one day about a dozen years or so ago I was involved in a conversation about this very topic with a fellow police officer who happened to be black. At the end of the conversation, I said to him "So your people can toss that word around all you want, can call one another 'nigger', can use it any way you want, but if I call you a 'nigger', that's wrong and you're offended?" His simple one-word response: "Exactly." Why it took a smart fella like me three decades of his life to understand a simple concept that was summed up by this cop's one word answer is fodder for another entire article. But the simple idea is this: some words offend people of ethnic, racial, or sexual groups. Period. They just do. And the fact is that those of us who may not be in their particular group will never, ever understand the emotions behind those feelings. But we don't need to understand the raw emotions. All we need to know is that these words offend, and so we should refrain from using them in most circumstances. So does that mean that we can never, ever use pejorative terms or slang words? No, of course not. Everything has its place. For instance, so far in this article I have used the word 'nigger' nine times, counting the headline and that last mention in this sentence. Using any word in a legitimate intellectual discussion is appropriate. There has been a major copout in today's society where people from Oprah to Obama use the phrase 'the N word' in public, but then aren't afraid to use 'nigger' in private conversations. Failing to use the word itself in an intellectual discussion helps to raise the word above it's meaning. It is the meaning that lies behind the word when used in a derogatory sense that releases its true negative emotional responses. This is particularly so when it is uttered by a member of one group that has historically been in a position of power and influence against some member of a group that has been historically deprived of that power. Now just because of my own personal enlightenment, don't take that to mean that I have never used the word 'nigger' in conversation, I have. And so has almost every single person who is reading this article: cop, lawyer, judge, politician, factory worker, businessman, whatever. It is one of the reasons that we all knew instinctively that Mark Fuhrmann was lying in the O.J. Simpson case. The man is a big city police detective and was asked if he ever used the word 'nigger', and replied that he had not. You might as well have painted a huge word 'LIAR' across his forehead in capital letters after that. He could have been, and probably was, telling the truth about most every other aspect of the case and his involvement. But no one was going to believe him after this point, particularly after the defense made a concerted effort to prove that he had lied about this issue. One thing that I can say for sure is that I have never used that word directly towards any black person, or in the presence of any black people, in any derogatory way. Even if I felt that I was in the presence of someone that I felt comfortable with and had no fear that they would take offense, I wouldn't use that word in that way simply out of respect. Now understand this, most cops are very comfortable around other cops. That thing about being white, black or yellow, but when the uniform is on we are all blue? That isn't just talk most of the time, that is how most cops genuinely feel. We toss around racial and sexual and other slang phrases and profanities among one another that would make a sailor blush. But we also know our place. We know when we are among friends, when we can let our hair down, and can toss around the bullshit without having to worry about anyone taking offense. The officer in the particular case that has broken in the local news was not among friends, and should have known better. He was driving a reporter around with him who was doing street-level research for a story that she was going to write. Was he trying to impress her in some way by acting tough and hard and macho? Who knows. Who cares. The fact is that this young rookie cop was stupid to make those comments to anyone, let alone a college journalism student writing for her newspaper. Now some would say that this officer should be off the police force simply for having those feelings. I disagree. We all bring a wide variety of personal experiences and backgrounds to this job. None of us can help the way that we were raised, what we were exposed to, or what was our 'normal' for a couple of decades before we ever considered police work as a profession. What we can do, however, is grow, mature, and learn how to set aside any personal prejudices and perform a professional job for all citizens, regardless of any background of theirs which may be different from our own. The young officer in question works in a tough area of North Philly, an area where he is exposed to a great deal of crime, hurt, pain, and even death on a daily basis. It is an area that is mostly black, and where most of the murder, drug dealing, and crime is perpetrated by blacks against other blacks. It is not hard to become jaded by all of that. For some white people who hear about blacks feeling oppressed by the 'man' or the 'system', that is a hard pill to swallow, that blacks in these areas expect more from us than they do of their neighbors. But they, and I believe the officer in this case, have it all wrong. Most of the people in that area are not bad people. They don't deal or use drugs. They don't rob folks. They don't expect more from white people, or the system, or the man, than they do from their neighbors. They expect their neighbors to treat them with courtesy and respect and perhaps even affection, and they have a right to expect these things. As always, it is the few who make it difficult for the many in these neighborhoods. There just happen to be more of those 'few' in that particular neighborhood for any number of reasons that are not the fault of those 'many'. So to white people everywhere, get it for once. You can't call a black person a 'nigger' at all. You can't use the term 'niggers' in regards to black people in any public discussion or forum where the term is being used in a derogatory manner. It doesn't matter how many times blacks use it among themselves, it is simply different, and you need to understand and respect that as a simple fact. The same goes for any other derogatory slang word for any other group as well. Words like 'nigger' are not just words, they are indeed something more.

Grass-Roots Support for Philly's Embattled Cops

On Halloween morning in 2007, police officer Chuck Cassidy of the city's 35th district pulled up to a local Dunkin' Donuts to perform a routine security check and perhaps grab a fresh cup of joe to begin his work day. The bright sunshine of the morning combined with the lesser light inside the shop made it impossible for him to see inside the establishment. Little did he know as he pulled open the door to that innocent coffee and donut shop, one that he had entered many times before, that it would be the last door he would ever open. Inside was an armed robber who turned and fired a gunshot into Cassidy before the officer ever knew what hit him. Thus began the most deadly string of murders of Philly's Finest in decades. Just seven months after Cassidy's murder, in May of 2008, Sergeant Steve Liczbinski responded to a robbery in progress taking place at a bank branch inside a supermarket of his 24th police district. It would be the final call of his career, as Liczbinski was also gunned down in cold blood by the robbers. Philly cops and their supporters mourned the loss of these two popular officers throughout the summer of 2008. Little did they know it was not over yet. Not nearly. In early September the city's police were again driven to shock when officer Isabel 'Izzie' Nazario was killed. She and her partner were involved in a vehicular pursuit of a stolen car, though not in direct pursuit, when the driver suddenly emerged from a blind intersection and slammed into their cruiser at full speed. The loss of a third officer in less than a year seemed like dirt being rubbed into an already open wound. Then the unthinkable happened. Just a couple of weeks later, still in September, officer Pat McDonald pulled over a vehicle for a simple traffic violation, something that many of the city's police officers do every single day, something that I did hundreds of times. Only this would be Pat's final car stop. This time the driver was a wanted man, and he decided to shoot and kill Pat McDonald rather than risk returning to jail. It was official, Philly's cops were under siege. People were taking shots at us, running from us, physically challenging us like never before. The thug mentality had overcome the city, and race became a part of the issue as each of the cop-killers faces flashed across television screens. Former Mayor John Street's notorious statement that "the brothers and sisters are running this town now" seemed to be taking on a gangsta tone. Something was seriously wrong here in Philly, and many of our citizens stepped forward with words of condolence and togetherness, some even with anger at what was happening. But did they then go back to their communities, to their families, and begin to make real changes that would back up their words? Less than two months later, Sergeant Tim Simpson, a fellow supervisor in the exact same squad of officers in which Steve Lisczbinski had worked at the time of his murder, responded to yet another robbery call. Like Lisczbinksi, it would be Simpson's final call. As he responded to the robbery he entered the intersection of Aramingo and Allegheny Avenues. Here a drunk driver in a speeding Camaro slammed into Simpson's cruiser. The 24th district had lost their 2nd Sergeant in six months, and Philly's cops had lost their fifth officer in under a year. A long, cold winter of grieving got underway, and in the middle of it just about two weeks ago, young 25-year old father-to-be John Pawlowski and his partner pulled up on a disturbance on the highway involving an argument between two men. When Pawlowski confronted the aggressor, this male pulled the trigger on a gun which he had concealed in the pocket of his jacket. As officer Pawlowski's partner drew his gun and killed the assailant, John fell to the ground, the sixth Philly cop killed in the line of duty in less than a year and a half. There have been 7 Philadelphia police officers killed in the line of duty stretching to the robbery-murder of officer Gary Skerski in May of 2006. The violence against the police officers who are trying their best to protect the citizens of an increasingly hostile city was just too much for a young woman by the name of Courtney Agger. Not the wife or family member of an officer, Courtney was just a young woman in her twenties who was among the many who were sick and tired of all of the attacks on cops. She wanted to do something, and in the spirit of the 21st century she took to the internet. A member of the 'Facebook' community that is perhaps today's most popular internet gathering place, Courtney started a grass-roots effort to organize a march in support of Philly cops, and in remembrance of all those who have made the ultimate sacrifice, both in recent years and throughout the past. Her little Facebook group advertised a march to take place on Sunday, March 1st, 2009 beginning near the Skatezone facility in Northeast Philadelphia and proceeding around the Northeast Airport to the home of Philly's 8th police district at Academy & Red Lion Roads. She likely envisioned dozens, perhaps hundreds if it went well, of her friends and other sympathizers marching in support. Little did she know the power of both the internet and of her cause. At yesterdays march, thousands turned out in an overwhelming outpouring of emotion and support for Philadelphia's embattled police force. There were a number of police brass and union officials on hand, regular officers like myself, as well as numerous friends and family members. T-shirts, sweatshirts, wristbands, flags and other items were sold. In the week leading up to the march, Philadelphia police detective Al Ford was attempting to serve a warrant when he was shot in the leg. Another officer returned fire and killed Ford's assailant. Ford was taken to the hospital and is going to be okay, but his shooting highlights that this is far from over. As a color guard led Sunday's procession, Courtney had to allow herself to feel just a little pride for what she had accomplished. It was completely justified. Grass-roots support from the community such as that showed by Courtney Agger is absolutely appreciated and even needed by the Philadelphia Police Department. We have been seriously demoralized by what has happened in recent months, and outreach such as this sincerely touches us all and reminds us of why we do what we do, that it is important to continue, and that it actually affects peoples lives.

Judicial Misconduct at Broad & Champlost

Philadelphia Judge Craig M. Washington is either the single stupidest person in the history of the American judicial system or he is the most callous, ignorant and disrespectful. There is no middle ground for the actions that Washington took yesterday at the 35th police district here in the former 'City of Brotherly Love' which can no longer claim that moniker with any credibility whatsoever. The latest in a string of murders of Philly cops happened just days ago when young, bright and talented police officer John Pawlowski of that very 35th district was gunned down in cold blood on our increasingly violent streets. Police officers with badges, guns, vests, and with fellow officers just a radio call away (or closer in Pawlowski's case) are not safe, so you the average citizen most certainly are not safe. It was under these circumstances that Mr. Washington, whom to recognize with the title 'Judge' would be a severe travesty of that institution, marched into the very home of the 35th district on Tuesday morning. Washington was there to preside over 'divisional hearings', a process by which members of the court go out into the community and conduct preliminary hearings in criminal cases. They do this in order to better serve the community. The process of appearing at your local police district for what can sometimes be multiple hearings before the criminal case even gets underway is far more convenient for most victims and witnesses than having to travel downtown. It is a win-win, as the victim/witness gets convenience and the justice system gets those same victims and witnesses actually showing up and actively involved in the case. This process is what brought Washington to Broad & Champlost, the home of John Pawlowski and his fellow brother and sister 35th district officers, on Tuesday morning. Understand that while divisional hearings have been held at the 35th district for years, these are obviously not normal circumstances inside that building. With one of their own gunned down just days ago, the officers there are still in shock and still processing their grief. After all, John Pawlowski has not even been buried yet. Washington finally began to process the cases before him after arriving late, a bad habit that a number of justices have gotten into all over the city. At some point well into the proceedings he noticed a memorial display that had been setup which featured a photo of officer Pawlowski and some flowers. Washington turned to court officer Blanca Rodriguez and ordered her to remove the picture, saying that it was "inappropriate" and a "distraction" to the proceedings. Now had it ended at this point we could perhaps write off Washington as simply the most stupid individual to ever mar the bench with his presence. I mean at this point we possibly could say that he just didn't get it, that he was too intellectually and emotionally inferior a human being to process the situation. But then he went more than a step further. The court officer refused to take down the memorial, and Washington stormed off his bench and out to the office of the 35th district's commanding officer, Captain John McCloskey. He demanded that McCloskey order the memorial taken down during the court proceedings. McCloskey, being both a human being and a true leader of men, denied Washington's request. The incensed Washington, ego bruised, then marched to a police Inspector who also turned him down. Washington had now gone from possibly stupid to utterly childish as he stomped around the district building crying and whining for someone to listen to him and do what he said, after all this was his court and he was the judge, which meant he was the boss here. He stormed back into the area being used for the court hearings, took officer Pawlowski's picture, and in the act that finally showed his colors he turned the fallen hero's picture over on its face. What Washington failed to consider was that this was not a courthouse and he was not the boss. This was a police facility, a particular facility where a family of officers were in grief and mourning. This was their house, not his. He was lucky to get out physically unscathed. Members of the police union, FOP Lodge #5, were notified and arrived at the building and immediately confronted Washington, who scurried from his bench like a dirty, slimy, frightened rat. He ran out into his car and hastily pulled away from the district, possibly contacting a police wagon as he did so. In these final actions, Washington proved exactly who he is. The man is not stupid, he is quite simply ignorant and disrespectful and cared more about his ego than the memory of a murdered police officer. Philadelphia is less safe today because John Pawlowski is dead and Craig Washington will still be hearing criminal cases in a courtroom. In a final act of cowardice by the local judiciary, the top judge in the Municipal Court system backed her man's actions by saying that Washington's moves were proper and did not show disrespect. Judge Marsha Niefield, who herself should feel shamed and embarrassed this morning after her 'rally around my buddy' statement: "I understand that emotions are running high, and that is completely understandable considering the tragic loss of the officer. That having been said, Judge Washington attempted to maintain the proper court decorum consistent with other places." If the circumstances were not so tragic that statement would be comically ignorant rather than arrogantly so. The fact is that the memory of a fallen hero, John Pawlowski, and his fellow officers of the 35th district were completely and utterly disrespected yesterday by Washington. His actions show the street thugs how police officers can and should be viewed and treated by them. If this is how we can treat them in their own house, then we can do even worse when they come into our neighborhoods or down to our corner. What Washington did yesterday at Broad & Champlost was nothing short of judicial misconduct.

Numb...Again

Another Philadelphia police officer lies dead this morning. He was only 25 years old. His young wife is now a widow as she carries their first and only child in her womb, a child that won't be born until the coming summer is almost over. A child that will never know it's father, never even get to meet him. He is John Pawlowski of the PPD's 35th district, and he is the 7th Philly cop to be killed in the line of duty in the past 33 months. I remember a time when it seemed that we lost a brother or sister officer every few years. Now we don't even get six months, and often it's been much less. There was a time when it made me sad and angry. But the wave of murders of our officers over the past couple years has simply left me numb. I can't even watch the stories on TV anymore beyond the headlines to get the basic facts. I am well aware that the danger is part of the job for which we have all signed up, but I want it to just all stop, even if just for a couple years. Part of the problem for cops is that we do a job that few others could ever possibly relate to, but we can all relate to one another. No matter what our current responsibilities in this career that we have chosen, we were all John Pawlowski at some point. We all put on the uniform and the badge, strapped the gun to our hip, slid behind the wheel of a marked police car, and slipped out into the night to patrol the streets of Philadelphia. It is alternately thrilling and dangerous, exciting and deadly. It is sometimes slow, but rarely boring. And always, always, there is the next corner to turn, around which may lie one of the funniest things that you've ever seen, or the end of your life. You work those streets as a cop in a squad of men and women who become your extended family. You are with them almost every day or night in those circumstances and situations. Especially as a young person in your early years on the job, you form a bond in that squad that will never leave you. My squad was special to me, and always will be. It included my own brother, Mike Veasey, with whom I had the absolute pleasure to work with as a partner for a few years. It included others who I will also always carry in my heart: Dave Lee, Juan Perez, Lisa Collins, Tom McComesky, Bob Donahue, Joe Kramer, Tommy DiFlorio, Aaron Horn, Chris Faber, Kevin Bethel, Thom Hoban, Stevie Susson, Denise McDonough, Nick Campolongo, Herbie Felder, Kevin Wong, Charlie Kelly, Ray Plymouth, Anne Klineburger, Eddie Blunt, Patti Parks, Bobby Bonds, Dominic Tursi, Dennis Andraczak, Tommy Key, Gary Burrell, Louie & Stephanie Velazquez, and many others. There are so many people that touch you on this job, that you lean on to get you through the tough times, that you laugh with during the good times. Not only those folks in your own squad, but also those in the other squads within your district, and other cops all over the city, and the many business and community people that become a part of our everyday lives. Working the streets is addictive. It is an experience that is difficult to describe. Having that kind of respect from most people, experiencing that affection from folks you don't even know, and carrying the burden of the power that the people have bestowed on you that includes taking away someone's freedom and even their life. Only police officers who have worn that uniform and stepped out on those patrols will ever know that feeling. This was the life that young John Pawlowski was living, the same one that I lived, that my brother lived, that our father lived. The same one that every street cop has lived. It is what makes losing John, and all the others in recent months and years, so very difficult. It is always worth mentioning them all by name, because what has happened recently will forever link them: Gary Skerski, Chuck Cassidy, Steve Liczbinski, Isabel Nazario, Pat McDonald, Tim Simpson and now John Pawlowski. We are them. They are us. It is Valentine's Day, and a young woman carrying a baby should be waking up to her young husband and thinking about things like cards and flowers and candy and dinner. Instead she has to plan a funeral. I am numb...again.

Islamism Series: al Qaeda's Black Death

When most people think of attacks or attempted attacks by Muslim radicals against the United States, Israel, England, and others who they perceive as their enemies we think of bombs and guns. The radical Muslim group Hamas continues to bombard Israel with rockets from Gaza, prolonging a conflict that the Israelis tried to halt days ago. But it is not just these 'conventional' weapons that we need to be concerned with when addressing the problems of Radical Islam.

The British tabloid 'The Sun' recently published a report that al Qaeda members in Algeria had been killed during experiments with a strain of the bubonic plague. A report in the Washington Times stated that a U.S. intelligence official dismissed that claim, but did say that the terror group had to close a base of operations in the African nation after an experiment with 'unconventional weapons went awry' killing at least 40 al Qaeda operatives. The experiment was believed to likely be either biological or chemical in nature.

Intelligence officials estimate that Muslim terror groups have been pursuing biological and chemical weapons for at least a decade. The Times article goes on to quote a 2005 U.S. commission report that the al Qaeda bio/chem weapons program "was extensive, well organized, and operated two years before" the 9/11 terror attacks in the United States.

In January of 2003, British authorities arrested seven men in connection with an effort to produce ricin, the poison that killed a dozen people and sent over 3,000 to Tokyo-area hospitals after it was released on that city's subway system back in 1995. At least one of the men had spent time at an al Qaeda training camp, and during their investigation authorities found an al Qaeda manual that included a recipe for making the poison.

The fact is that Islamic terror groups are exploring and experimenting with many ways of attacking the West, and they are not going to stand down in these efforts just because we have elected a new president. Whether our presidents name is Bush or Obama, the Muslim radicals see their struggle with our way of life. They will continue their war on us whether or not we bring any or all of our troops home from the Middle East.

This year in the Philadelphia police department's MPO curriculum one of the courses is titled "Crisis & Emergency Management." It is a scenario-based course that presents four different scenarios outside of the usual, day to day law enforcement experience and asks for ideas on how to handle them. It also presents some of the resources available above the police department level, and explores how and when these resources would be made available.

One of the scenarios involves a bio-terror attack such as the type that al Qaeda has been planning. It is hoped that we here in the City of Brotherly Love never have to deal with such a scenario in reality, but that in attending this class our officers may have a little better picture of how we will respond should it ever come to pass.

Whether the al Qaeda experiment in Algeria involved bubonic plague, which killed 1/3 of Europe's population in the 14th century and became known as 'the black death', or some other agent is relatively unimportant. What remains most important is that we understand that radical Islam and its tens of millions of adherents continue to look for ways to attack freedom loving people everywhere, especially in Israel, Europe, and here in the United States. The very real plague of this radical Muslim ideology is a virus that must be stamped out, and against which we must remain on the offensive.
NOTE: This is a continuation of the "Islamism Series" articles, all of which can be viewed by clicking on that below label.

Goodbye, Tim Simpson

I didn't find out until about five minutes ago. Last night, I went to bed at around 11pm, so I missed the news at that time. Just waking up this morning, I poured myself the first cup of coffee of the day, and fired up the computer. Then a local news anchor said those words on TV: "Our top story, the Philadelphia Police Department is again in mourning this morning..." My head whipped around to the TV screen. Sergeant Tim Simpson of the 24th district was dead, killed in a horrific car crash at approximately 10:45pm last night. He was killed at Aramingo & Allegheny while responding to a robbery call, possibly by a drunk driver who was speeding. This is the 2nd officer killed in an auto accident in the last few months, with Izzy Nazario killed back in the late summer. It is the 4th Philly cop killed this calendar year, the 5th in the last year, the 6th on-duty in 2 1/2 years stretching back to Gary Skerski's murder in spring of 2006. With Walter Barclay's death from wounds that he received decades ago in a shooting, it marks the 7th Philly cop to die of an on-duty incident in that time period. My stomach flips again, and I say a prayer for the officer, his family and friends, his co-workers, and all police officers. It's beyond ridiculous now. We got almost, almost, a two month break this time. We deserve years without such tragedy at this point. They all need to be remembered as a group: Walt Barclay, Gary Skerski, Chuck Cassidy, Steve Liczbinski, Isabel Nazario, Pat McDonald, and now Tim Simpson. Ironically, it was Simpson who had worked closely with Liczbinski, and was the officer given the responsibility of cuffing the murderer of his fellow Sergeant and former partner just this past spring. We will again cover our badges with mourning crepes, again put on our blouse coats, again make funeral arrangements, again bury a fellow officer. This time it will be a brother with a wife and children who we will bury at Thanksgiving. To make matters possibly worse to me, I saw a picture of the officer. He looked a lot like an officer who I served with in the 6th district, Terry Simpson, and I wonder if they are related, possibly brothers. That would make an already intolerable situation even more personal, with my own brother also on the job and both of us knowing Terry. We will find out more of these details in the coming hours and days, but there is one thing that we already know. The Philadelphia Police Department has a very dark cloud hanging over it right now. The winter cold has settled over the area this morning, the first real morning of frost. It feels even colder now. This has to end. Doesn't it?

No Hijab on the-Job

The Philadelphia Police Department has a series of dozens of what are known as 'Directives' which govern nearly every facet of a police officer's work. From their uniforms to their firearms, from the proper procedures for obtaining warrants to the proper procedures for recording daily work assignments. Every single person who signs up to become a police officer is aware of these directions, qualifications, and restrictions. The uniform serves a couple of specific purposes. Not only does it identify each wearer as a police officer, but it also engenders respect. It's formality let's those who come in contact with an officer know that they are dealing with someone who reprsents their municipality in an official capacity. The uniformity shows that all those wearing the particular uniform are parts working together as one entity in carrying out their respective individual duties. The Philadelphia Police Department is a para-military unit, which means that they are a group of civilians organized in a military fashion. Much of the uniformity, weaponry, and tactics of being a police officer are drawn from the military services. Today, the uniform of the Philadelphia Police officer is under assault by a handful of special interest and religious groups. A female officer from North Philly's 35th District, publicly identified in the local media as officer Kim Webb, claims that she became a muslim after being hired for the police job, that her faith requires her to wear a 'hijab' at all times in public, and so now wants to wear this garment along with the rest of her police uniform. This article of clothing is completely religious in character, and has nothing to do with her police job, and is nowhere to be found on the list of proper uniform items in the PPD. Bottom line, P/O Webb is not allowed to wear the item while in uniform. But that is not good enough for P/O Webb, just as other officers in the past have not been happy with the department's policies on beards, piercings, tattoos, and other items. The fact of the matter is that these people all know what they are getting into when they sign up. If the don't like the rules, they shouldn't become a cop. If something about their lives changes, such as a religious awakening of some sort, and it triggers a conflict with their departmental assignments or standards, then that person needst to either find a way to conform to the work requirements during on-duty hours, or they need to resign their position. There is no constitutional 'right' for me to tattoo a crucifix on my head, or wear crucifix earrings or pins, or a Jewish officer to wear a yarmulke, or any officer to wear a beard in uniform, as there is none for this officer to wear a hijab. As a Catholic, I have received 'ashes' on Ash Wednesday and left them on during work hours. Of course, they were gone the next day. I wasn't looking to wear ashes every day, or wear a crucifix on the outside of my uniform around my neck. Now Webb has filed a law suit, and has been joined in it by another muslim female and a handful of ethnic and religious organizations. What we are seeing happen is the attempted opening of Pandora's Box, and what the history of this liberal city and it's cop-killer releasing judiciary has is a strong liberal record on these types of things. Courts in the past have ruled that as long as an employee has a sincerely held religious belief, they should be accomodated as well as possible. This horrible ruling, allowing for any manner of possible abominations, has killed morale in a number of companies and municipalitites. It is long past time for the judiciary to backup the legitimate standards, structure, and morale of the Philadelphia police department and other employers before those things become a thing of the past. The courts should absolutely say no hijab on the-job. And Philadelphia police supervisors and commanders should solidly enforce the uniform regulations as regards items such as religious or ethnic organization pins, hijabs, yarmulkes, hair lengths and styles, piercings, tattoos, beards, and more.

The One That Got Away

It was just after 1:00 AM in the typically freezing cold early morning hours of Friday, January 30th, 1970. It was just three weeks earlier that the Beatles had performed together in the studio for the final time, and since the new soap opera 'All My Children' had made its debut on television. The remnant of a previous snowfall still coated the ground as rookie Philadelphia police officer Fred Cione pushed his red patrol car around the corner and into the 1700 block of west Oxford Street in the city's 23rd district. My wife, the former Debbie Marshall Howe, grew up just two doors from the Cione family on east Huntingdon Street in the city's Kensington area. As a 14-year old budding adolescent at that time she already recognized that Freddie, a single Vietnam vet, was 'really handsome' and 'built'. As this handsome 25-year old rookie cop drove around that night he came upon three men walking the streets, and found something suspicious about them, or their behavior, or just the fact of them being on the streets in that location on that kind of night. In any event, the only thing we really do know is that Freddie got out and approached the three, and that one of them opened up on him with three gunshots, one of which went into this chest and another into his gut. The men ran off, and Freddie was left to die like a dog in a North Philly gutter. That was almost three full decades ago. Just last week I was teaching a CPR class at the department's Advanced Training Unit, and one of the cops in attendance wore the nametag 'Cione'. I asked if he was a relative of Fred's, and the young man responded that he was Fred Cione's nephew. I am quite sure that he has heard the story a number of times already in his life since his own father, Freddie's brother Nick, became a Philly cop after his brother's death, and two of Nick's own sons subsequently have become cops. The murder of Fred Cione on that cold January night came back to me in the past couple of days as we here in Philly suffered the murder of yet another of our young stars, police officer Pat McDonald, the fifth Philly cop to be murdered in the last 2 1/2 years. But there is one big difference between the murders of Pat McDonald and other Philadelphia officers murdered in the line of duty like Chuck Cassidy, Gary Skerski, Steve Liczbinski, Izzy Nazario, Danny Faulkner, Lauretha Vaird, Steve Dmytryk, Danny Boyle, and Leddie Brown and the murder of Fred Cione. The big difference is that the murder of Fred Cione is the only murder of a Philadelphia police officer that was never solved. Police Commissioner Frank Rizzo and his top investigators were never able to find anything to solve the case: no real suspects, no murder weapon, no motive. The police Homicide Unit has never let the case die, assigning top detectives to take a new look at it every so often, but no one has ever come up with any substantive leads. The only reliable witness, a female, was brought in to look at thousands of photos over the years, but was never able to identify anyone. The case remains the ultimate frustration for all of us as Philadelphia police officers. When one of us goes down on the job at the hands of a bad guy, the very least that we expect is that our brothers and sisters will hunt our killer down to the ends of the earth, and bring that killer to justice, one way or another. The three young men whom it was the unfortunate fate of Freddie Cione to run into on that cold, dark night so long ago now remain four ghosts that we need to exorcise. If we cannot ever solve Freddie's particular case, which we must always be open to doing, we must vigorously investigate all those that will come along in the future. Think about and remember Freddie Cione as you drive past his mural, painted on the Aramingo Avenue side of his neighborhood rec center just south of Lehigh Avenue. He shares the mural with Joey Friel, another neighborhood native killed on-duty. We not only must never forget Fred Cione, but we must specifically remember him and his case, and never allow justice to elude us again.

Another Philly Cop Killed

P/O Patrick McDonald, a member of the Philadelphia Police Department's elite Highway Patrol unit, was gunned down this afternoon in North Philadelphia. Two officers in total were shot, with one of them in stable condition. This marks the 2nd Philly Cop in two weeks, the 3rd in four months, the 4th in less than a year, and the 5th in the last 2 1/2 years to be killed in the line of duty. A more lengthy article on the officer and the situation will come in the next few days. Please pray for the officers and their families. Pictured here are the previous four: Gary Skerski, Chuck Cassidy, Steve Liczbinski, Isabel Nazario (left to right).

Isabel's Sacrifice

There is no way that I can get into the life and mind of Isabel Nazario last night, but let me paint you a picture of a normal night that would lead up to what happened to her that might bring it more closely home for you. First let's start with the fact that Isabel is a 40-year old mom and also a Philadelphia police officer, working for the Narcotics Strike Force. This unit is an active, on-the-streets, in-the-face-of-the-drug-dealers group that works every day to keep the city and its residents safe from the scourge of the illegal narcotics that are at the root cause of most other crime. Isabel and her unit are the people that 'hit the houses' of the dealers, that actively patrol the streets of the neighborhoods that are the worst infected. They chase down, get directly into the faces of, put their hands and cuffs on, and sometimes get into armed confrontations with drug dealers at all hours of the day and night. They also have a tremendous camaraderie within their group that comes from the both the respect that their day-to-day job enjoins and from the sharing of their personal lives and family stories. Isabel Nazario is the mother of a teenage daughter who was herself likely enjoying her first Friday night of the school year, perhaps anticipating shopping or some other activity with her mom over the weekend. I am absolutely certain that Isabel had her daughter on her mind any number of times while patrolling the streets of Southwest Philly last night. Maybe thinking about clothes that she wanted to pickup for her for the new school year. Maybe about getting some shopping done the next day for lunch or dinner. Maybe hoping that she was making good decisions on this Friday night, should she be hanging out with friends, especially the boys that become so much of the concern to those of us who are or have been parents of teenage girls. There is every chance that Isabel and her partner, Terry Tull, had stopped for some dinner during the evening. They likely strolled into some local eatery and grabbed a sandwich or a platter, sat down, and enjoyed a meal while talking about their families, maybe about a job that they had responded to earlier, perhaps about some situation involving a co-worker. Even if they just stopped for a cup of coffee, there is one thing that is absolutely certain. Neither one of them was considering that this would be the final hours of their life. Shortly before ten o'clock on Friday night, a call came over police radio that another unit was in pursuit of a vehicle. This vehicle was a white SUV, and it was traveling through the streets at a high rate of speed. What the information was unable to supply at that point was that the driver was a 16-year old who didn't have a license and who was under the influence of some substance, be it alcohol or drugs or both. Terry was driving, Isabel was the passenger, and they proceeded southbound on 39th Street towards Wallace Street, trying to maneuver into the area where they believed the SUV would be going. They were hoping that, if they were able to get into a position to help, that perhaps they could pull the vehicle over and take a dangerous driver off the streets. Like most rowhouse neighborhoods of Philly, the intersection of 39th and Wallace is difficult to see down one street from another. You would have to completely stop and look down the block to see any possible oncoming traffic. It is likely that Terry did just this as he got to the intersection. He pulled up at the stop sign and stopped their patrol vehicle, they both glanced at Wallace Street and saw that traffic was clear, and Terry then pulled their cruiser out to cross the intersection. What they were unable to see in the dark, in that short distance, in that short space of time, was the SUV that they were trying to find. It was heading eastbound on Wallace Street at an extremely high rate of speed, with the driver having no intention of stopping at the intersection. As he barrelled towards the intersection, Tull and Nazario had just pulled out into it, and the SUV was on them in a split-second, likely without them even knowing it was coming. If Nazario had any knowledge that it was coming directly at her, it was only in that one sudden instant of time. She had no time to react in any way, no time for one final prayer, no time to think of her daughter one last time, no time left in her life. The SUV slammed directly into the side of the patrol car at full speed, likely killing officer Isabel Nazario instantaneously. Tully was also seriously injured, suffering broken ribs and eventually also fighting for his life at the Hospital of the University of Pennsylvania. Fellow officers and rescue workers responded to the scene and while some took off in foot pursuit of Nazario's killer, successfully catching him a short distance away, others responded to try and save the lives of the officers. The 'Jaws of Life' were needed to cut them free of the demolished squad car, and local news media caught the dramatic scene as fire rescue workers attempted CPR on Isabel as they loaded her into the EMT for transport to the hospital where she was pronounced dead shortly after arrival. The Philadelphia Police Department had lost our 2nd officer this year in the line-of-duty, the 3rd within a calendar year, the 4th within the past two years. Perhaps even worse, a young teenage girl has lost her mother. We have one another to lean on, we have other officers to help handle our grief. This girl lost her only mother, and it is a loss that she will have a very difficult time in overcoming. We need to remember Isabel Nazario and the sacrifice that she made for her city. We need to remember it as being just as sacrificial, just as important, just as relevant as the loss of our other recent brothers who died while responding to armed robberies. We need to remember it as representative of what we all do every day, or have done on many days and nights, and as what could happen to any of us on any shift that we work. And we all need to remember this young girl, Isabel's daughter, and make sure that we let her know that she is not as alone as she feels. We need to let her know that she has a vast family in blue, and we need to make sure that she never forgets that fact. God bless the soul of Isabel Nazario. God bless Terry Tully as he continues his attempts to recover from his physical injuries and the likely emotional trauma still to come. And God bless Isabel Nazario's young daughter, that she may somehow one day overcome this devastating loss, and live a life that proudly reflects the sacrifice made by her mother. To all of my fellow Philly Cops, and to law enforcement officers everywhere, be safe, and may God bless you all for the sacrifices that you and your families make every single day and night.

The One Who Died From 289

Charlie Knox was a Police Academy classmate of mine from recruit class #289 in the Philadelphia Police Academy back in 1990. Entering the Academy and joining the Philadelphia Police Department was a huge step for me, both personally and professionally. It led directly to many big changes in my life, and signalled a complete change of direction for me and my family, both in the short and long terms. But the changes that I would go through as a result of joining the PPD were nothing compared to those of Charlie Knox. You see, he was the one who died on-duty from our class. The experience of a recruit officer at the Academy is not an easy one in any way, but it is an incredible experience, and it was seriously fun at some points. I have often described it as sort of being back in high school, but being paid for it. Only this time you have classes that include how to fire a gun, drive a car under emergency conditions, and hand-to-hand combat, among others. Still, the instruction takes place in classrooms and on the grounds of a campus environment, and it very much has a high school feel to it for those of any age. Our class #289 started at the Academy on April 23rd, 1990, and was made up of about 100 recruits divided into two 'platoons' identified as 289-A and 289-B. The division came alphabetically, and Charlie fell in with the 'A' platoon while I was assigned to 'B' platoon. Since most of your day-to-day experiences came within your own platoon, we didn't see a lot of the 'B' folks except in passing. But Charlie and I had become friendly in passing over that spring and summer. We were the same age, were both married, and both had young kids. His son was 7-years old, and my two daughters were 10 and 8 years. And he had that same kind of mischievous, smart-alick, attitude and sense of humor that I had, and we always said 'hi' to one another and asked how we were doing with the Academy process. When we got our assignments upon graduation, neither of us got a bad one: I was assigned to the downtown 6th district, Charlie to South Philly's 1st district. Having lived in the 1st for much of my teenage years, I knew it well, and knew that he would likely enjoy himself there. It also was close to home for him, as he lived just across the bridge in Southwest Philly. Our graduation was in mid-September of 1990, and we all congratulated one another and wished one another well. As we shook hands that day out at the old Convention Center in University City, I didn't realize that it would be the last time that I would ever see Charlie Knox alive. Everyone who came out of class #289 worked our first full year on the streets in 1991. As we moved through 1992, my first marriage had come to an end, and I actually met my future (and current) wife early that summer. So on Sunday, August 30th, 1992 with less than two years on the street, my own life was going through a number of big changes, but nothing compared to what Charlie was about to go through. That evening, Charlie and his partner, Tony Howard, were working a patrol wagon. Tony had less than 6 months on the streets, so it was a couple of relatively inexperienced, but aggressive, cops who responded to a call that came from police radio of a robbery in progress at the Roy Rogers restaurant at Broad & Snyder. Having responded to these kinds of calls hundreds of times, I can tell you that they flipped on their overhead dome lights, kicked the wagon into high gear, and headed towards that major South Philly intersection. Charlie was paying attention to traffic, and driving in that controlled emergency responder manner that we were taught at the Academy, while Tony was likely operating the siren when needed. The two also were mentally playing out in their minds what would happen when they got there, how they would handle whatever situation awaited them. They might even have talked out some flexible game plan. There was probably even the thought crossing their minds that all this could be for nothing, as so many calls like this end up being either 'unfounded' completely, or some other type of situation than a robbery, such as a minor argument or disturbance. They arrived at the restaurant just after 8:30pm, just moments after receiving the call, and walked in on a violent robbery in progress situation. Charlie confronted a male in the manager's office who was holding a gun to that manager's head. Charlie ordered the man to drop the gun, and then became engaged in a physical struggle with the robber. Unseen by Charlie, a second gunman suddenly stepped from behind a doorway, shoved a gun into Charlie's side under his vest, and fired. When Charlie fell, the gunman fired another shot into his head. Howard had entered through a separate entrance, and the gunman fired at him as well, striking him in the shoulder. Tony Howard was rushed to Thomas Jefferson hospital and survived the shooting. Charlie Knox wasn't so fortunate. He died from his gunshot wounds as the two robbers, who turned out to be brothers Tucker & Alan Ginn, fled the scene. They would not be arrested for another five months, after an incredible investigation and an intensive manhunt, and they were found guilty, now both serving life sentences in prison. This afternoon, myself and other classmates of Charlie's from Academy class #289, now having served 18 years with the police department, gathered along with his family, local dignitaries, and hundreds of fellow officers as a memorial plaque was laid outside the Walgreen's pharmacy which has now replaced the Roy Rogers restaurant at Broad & Snyder. The plaque is part of a memorial program instituted a few years back to honor all of Philadelphia's fallen heroic police officers and firefighters like Charlie Knox at or near the place where they made their ultimate sacrifice for our community. Charlie's son, Charlie Jr, was not there today. He was tragically killed in a car crash at the age of 16, six years after his father's murder. Charlie's widow, Arlene, has since remarried and has two young children with her 2nd husband. She was there, front and center, to honor her former husband and her hero. Anyone who knew Charlie Knox will never forget his famous, flashing smile, and that twinkle in his eye. When we were in the Academy, at one point an instructor invited everyone in the class to take a look around at one another, because he said that the odds were that at least one of us was going to be killed on duty over the course of our careers. It turned out that we didn't have long to wait. It was less than two years before Charlie Knox became the one that died in the line-of-duty from class #289.

85 Shots and 'One Less Nigga With a Gun'

A year ago at this time, in July 2007, Steven 'Butter' Miller (left) was shot at 85 times by Philadelphia police officers. I have sources that say it was actually 81 times. In any event, about two dozen of those shots found their mark, and Miller was dead. In it's July 24th-31st, 2008 issues the extremely liberal 'Citypaper' here in Philadelphia, one of those free tabloid style publications distributed throughout the downtown area by placement in stores, business lobbies, and curbside boxes, published a cover story titled '85 Shots' about the incident. As could be expected if you understand the source, the Citypaper writers, Doron Taussig and Tom Nammako, told the story in a way that was, in both tone and tenor, completely sympathetic with the alleged victim and extremely critical of the Philadelphia police officers involved in the shooting, as well as their hierarchy in its response. That's a shame, because the real problem right here in Philadelphia and in many big American cities today is not unwarranted shootings by rogue groups of police officers. Actually, one of the biggest problems facing American big cities today is men just like Steven Miller. Fact is that Miller exited his house that night as a stark-raving mad lunatic waving a gun around in the air, alternately pointing it at officers as well as towards neighbors homes as he waved it. The officers gave him plenty of warnings to drop the weapon, perhaps even more than they actually needed to give. At a certain point, one officer felt that the circumstances had gotten too dangerous and felt that he needed to discharge his weapon in order to save his own life, the life of a fellow officer, or that of a community member. It was a hot summer night in South Philly, so it was dark, and when this officers' shots rang out other officers who had also responded did not know from where these shots were coming. They fired at the man who they saw waving around the gun, Miller, just as they were trained, and they took him down. One of Miller's best friends, Daniel Williams, was quoted as saying "...they probably look at it like, that's one less nigga with a gun." Your words, Mr. Williams, but the idea behind them is not so far off from the truth. What this city needs, in fact, is thousands of fewer young men waving around guns, and every one that is stopped from doing so is one less that will harm the rest of us. The article goes on to actually print the names of seven officers involved that night before discussing how neighbors see these officers now and say, in the words of one Tyree Bullock: "Here go this motherf*cker". How about the mother-bleepers living around you every day, Mr. Bullock? The ones doing the shooting, drug-dealing, pimping, impregnating, and glamorizing it all in their booming and blaring rap music? The article also goes on to talk about another of the people in Miller's life, one Anthony Lawrence, who relates that in the past twenty years he has personally seen 34 deaths in his neighborhood, implying those were violent deaths. I have lived 46 years and was born and raised in South Philly, and I don't think that I have known more than a couple people, if that many, who have been killed by violence. Why have you seen so many, Mr. Lawrence? Why so many, Citypaper? Rogue cops shoot them all down? Not hardly. The fact of the matter is that most of them were killed by men just like Steven Miller. But before he met his demise, he helped perpetuate even more of the problems in the urban world. He had fathered seven children, none of whom he financially supported, by three different women, none of whom he had ever married. He had been arrested at least once in his life, for drugs of course, and had also been shot once on a playground basketball court. He had wasted away his twenties in a life of drugs and violence and 'laying back'. Oh, and in trying to become a rap star, of course, all the while perpetuating the exact lifestyle of huge numbers of young men in his demographic community across the nation. Irresponsibility, criminality, violence, addiction, all frequently glorified by the rap community in one of the most heinous examples of all-time of a community announcing and advertising for its own demise. Miller's rap group was named DLK (Down Low Killaz). Nice. And typical. The article states that Miller was 'suited up' (carrying a gun) on the day that he died because he 'had gotten on bad terms with a dangerous young bull', meaning that some young thug was looking to gun down Miller for some reason. The only 'bull' that matters in this story is perpetuated by this article, that somehow men like Steven Miller deserve our sympathies. The folks who really deserve our sympathy are the seven whose lives he created, but who didn't elicit enough love and respect from him that he would go out and get a real job or two to support. What makes men like Miller and many others in his violent neighborhood around Tasker & Taney Streets decide to turn to drugs and violence, both in the reality of their lifestyle and the glamorization of that same culture, rather than turning it around, staying in school, taking responsibility, and bettering their community. What makes one man from South Philly into a Steven Miller and another man from West Philly into a Will Smith? The answer quite simply is personal choices. Steven Miller chose illegitimate fatherhood. Steven Miller chose to get involved with drugs and violence. Steven Miller chose to walk out of a house waving a gun at neighbors and police officers. Steven Miller left those officers with no choice but to fire 85 shots, however many it took, and leave the city with 'one less nigga with a gun.' His choice, and it is people like the authors of this Citypaper article and the editors who chose to run the story with the slant that they did, who make further choices that keep all of us less safe each and every day in the city of Philadelphia.

Academic Progress

Just got some nice news in the mail yesterday. I was named to the Dean's List at my college, Saint Joseph's University, for the Spring 2008 term. You get named to the list for being a Senior and maintaining at least a 3.50 GPA. Right now in the Summer term, I am attending a Sociology class that is my next-to-last class work. In the Fall term, will have one more Sociology that will be my final class that will finally earn me my Bachelor's degree in Criminal Justice. My GPA is over 3.90, with just three A- grades keeping me from that perfect 4.0 over the years. About five years ago at this time, someone finally got through to me about the importance of going after my formal education, even in my 40's. I had been putting it off for over two decades. Originally had been set to attend LaSalle out of high school back in 1979, but my high school girlfriend and I got pregnant, and I went out to work instead. I had two beautiful daughters and a mini-career in banking (over a decade), but neither the career or the marriage lasted. After joining the Philly PD in 1990, learning and enjoying the police career was my life, and then I met my wonderful wife and got married in 1995. But school was something that always remained a regret in my mind. I actually got to the point where I put it down, publicly taking the position that it wasn't really important for someone to succeed in life. Again, someone finally got through to me. That someone was anonymous on a message board, which is something that I absolutely hate (anonymity in posting). But whatever that person said back then got to me, and so for the past five years I have gone to night school, first Community College of Philadelphia, and now for the past two years at St. Joe's. Making the Dean's List and being set to graduate next spring is making all the time, money, and work feel very worthwhile. So thanks to that anonymous poster, thanks to CCP and St. Joe's for the opportunities, and thanks to the PPD for their relationship with those educational institutions. If any of you are friends or family members, or even other cops or adults, and you have been putting this or some other opportunity off because you feel it simply has passed you by, don't do that. Don't sell yourself short. Go for it, you can do whatever you really decide to set your mind to. The important thing is to get started, and don't give up or take a break until you reach your goal. For me, now I have an alma mater (almost), and a Philly Big Five college that I can point to at tournament time with pride and say "The Hawk Will Never Die!"