Independence Day: A Walk In An Armed Camp

I saw this display as I was on my way home 

from work and went back on Independence Day 

for a picture. Given the area where I live, 

I'm not at all certain the man who put up this flag 

and I would agree on anything except 

that this country is in distress.

Yesterday, the city of Indianapolis lost another policeman, 

a twenty-two year veteran, when he was shot 

with a semi-automatic weapon by a known felon;

bullets from the gun were so powerful they 

ripped through the officer's vest. This is the third man 

killed in the line of duty and the eighth shot 

in the past eighteen months. ER docs, who tend to

the victims of these crimes, see this as a major

public health crisis.

On the one hand, you have an entire culture of 

villains with access to firearms who use them at the 

slightest provocation. Friday night, seven people were shot

when one man became upset when another man

bumped into him. On other occasions, police will go

to the site of a reported shooting to find no 

victims, but they will find a great number of shell

casings. It's as though it's evidence of

premature ejaculation, with the casings the

spendings from a violent ecstasy spread

all over the sordid alleyways.

And then there are the other idiots, the ones

who insist on their right to bear arms, as designated

by the Second Amendment. Well, that's another

fantasy, with those folks thinking their right to carry

a weapon will automatically render them safe

from harm. Hell, if they were to be attacked by a robber,

they'd be dead on the ground before they could draw

their own penile extension. In those cases, the attacker

would already have their weapon drawn,

meaning the "victim" would virtually have to walk

around with his gun in his hand and -- there you

have it, another idiot showing his dick.

In between, there are the normal, every day folk

who just try to go about their business

while walking between these two armed camps.

It is an appalling reality, with the flowers

and beauty of the season stained with blood

and intractable stupidity all around.

    

The Saddest Good-bye

The men above are members of the Speedway Fire Department. 

They are standing to salute the passing funeral cortege of

Officer Rod Bradway, a member of the Indianapolis Metropolitan 

Police Department, who was killed in the line of duty 

on Friday, September 20.
Officers from all over the country came to pay their respects
to a fallen comrade, some to attend the ceremony,
others to stand in for local police so that they could 
attend the services. There were at least a thousand cars,
preceded by an equal number of motorcycle units.

The procession was scheduled to leave the downtown area
at around 1 p.m., then travel across town to pass by
Officer Bradway's westside station and at the Wayne Township 
fire station where he had been a firefighter 
and EMT before joining the IMPD.

People began to line Lynhurst Drive not long after
the funeral services were complete, bringing with them flags
and signs to show their support for the man and his family.

The men shown below are practicing their role,
saluting the cortege as it passes Speedway Fire Station
Number 2 on Lynhurst Drive. In addition to their
participation, the men were on regular duty;
during the time the procession was passing, they actually
went on two separate runs. Others in their unit
quietly and efficiently stepped in to take their posts
while they were away.

The sad reason for this funeral, this procession, was because
Officer Bradway answered a call reporting domestic
violence at a westside apartment complex. Not long after his arrival
at the woman's home, he called for back-up. The woman's
screams of terror increased and the policeman
entered, only to be met by the assailant, who shot him
from the side, where his protective vest did not cover.
The second officer, who'd just arrived, entered right behind,
trading shots with the assailant, shooting and killing him.
But Officer Bradway was dead, having put the lives of a young
woman and her ten-month old baby ahead of his own.

Of all the calls police get, ones involving domestic abuse
are the runs they most dread. They are situations fraught with
volatile emotions, raging hormones and tempers - and, very often
guns or other weapons. The situations are always changing,
dangerous for everyone involved.
As a woman, I want to know what it is about men and their
need to control women? We fight sexual discrimination every day
in the workplace, the media, and in our relationships because men
assume they are entitled to control us and every aspect
of our lives. Why do they also feel the need to beat us, to threaten
us, to demean us, - all the while calling it love?

Because of this a good man has died, leaving a bereaved
woman and two teen-aged children. Another woman and her child
live, but with life-long emotional trauma. Yet another family,
that of the killer, live with the eternal shame of having 
a son and brother who made bad decisions; recently released
from prison, the killer was not supposed to have weapons,
but, of course, he did. It's entirely possible there may not be enough
money to pay for his burial.
It's an ugly story, too often repeated, one for which there
does not seem to be a good ending - just losses and
unhappiness for everyone concerned.

Last Friday marked the 50th anniversary of the lighting 

of the World's Tallest Christmas Tree. Strands of lights were 

hung from the Indianapolis War Memorial Monument

by volunteers from the International  Brotherhood

of Electrical Workers. Around its base, thousands of spectators

gathered to watch the entertainment before the tree

was switched on by a young girl who had won a coloring contest.

Santa Claus, accompanied by assistants, Frosty the Snowman, 

and Rudolph the Red-Nosed Reindeer, strolled among the crowd,

visiting and posing for pictures with admirers of all ages.

Street peddlers, hawking light sabres, light sticks, and antlers decked 

with flashing lights, wandered the crowd the entire evening.

The Indianapolis Metropolitan Police Department used 

their mounted patrol to quietly keep watch over the throngs

of people. In recent years, the patrol has replaced

their earlier horses to improve their visibility at night, 

so that they are all now white, roan, or gray.