It was a year ago today when our small town’s police chief was killed in the line of duty and other officers were shot doing their job, trying to execute a search warrant at a home up the street. I am reblogging the next day’s post.
When I dropped my daughter off at school yesterday morning, police and campus security were cordoning off huge sections of Exeter in anticipation of a Town Hall visit by the Vice-President. It was a rote and reasonable plan for the dangers inherent in any such high-profile political appearance.
But one can only truly plan for the imaginable.
Looking out the window last night I saw not the small town I’ve come to know, for better and worse, but sights I’d never seen in twenty-five years as a prosecutor. Nor had I seen anything remotely like this when my husband and I lived for years in a Boston neighborhood possessing an (undeservedly) bad reputation for crime.
The sounds came first: screaming sirens, a police car careening around the corner while others cars and ambulances rushed in the other direction. The dogs began to yelp and bay.
I assumed the imaginable:…
View original post 277 more words