Our Complicated Relationship

I get a little tense when I see a police officer, no matter what the circumstances.

Don't you?

It's almost never a good thing to be dealing with the police: you're in trouble, getting a ticket, have just been in a car crash, or horror of horrors, are getting hideous news at your front door. We who work in the news media have a particularly fraught relationship with police since they generally don't want to give us information we would like about cases or situations they're handling.

Last spring was particularly tough, with the violence of the G20, and the embarrassment that has followed for many officers accused of being, shall we say, too diligent in their work controlling the unruly crowds.

But with some of his final words, York Region Constable Garret Styles did more to repair the reputation of police than seven hundred inquests and inquiries into the G20 could have done.

As he lay under that minivan yesterday morning, trapped and mortally wounded, he worried to a dispatcher about the children in the car on top of him, the teenagers who had no drivers' licences and no business being on the road at five in the morning. Even as he asked for help for himself, his concern was also for the kids who killed him. That's the epitome of service to the community, in my mind.

Today, I'm thinking about the (admittedly few) police officers of my acquaintance, and about the fact that every day, they go to work with the knowledge they could be killed on the job. I'm thinking about my buddy Trevor, one of the kindest people I've ever known, my high school friend Paula, my OPP colleagues Mark and Martin and my new friend Terry who serves with the RCMP. Thank you for your work, and yes, I promise, I'll slow down!