Last updated on January 11, 2022
I can’t imagine you thought being a police officer in America would come at such a price. The level of hatred and disregard for your profession is growing, and the driving force is fear.
Many cannot comprehend the reality of the world’s condition, the level of abuse, and violence across the globe. We live in troublesome times. Endtime Ministries declare it the end of the age with Bible Prophecy.
I believe them.
Society forgets the good you do amid the pain and sorrow. Lashing out in grief, many overlook your dedication to seeking justice for victims of violent crimes.
Many don’t understand the horrors you witness at crime scenes. The countless videos of child sexual abuse you view in disgust to catch a pedophile and keep children safe.
They don’t see the condition of the children you rescue from abusive homes or sex traffickers. The young woman you help break free from domestic violence.
The times you rushed into a school to prevent a mass shooter from killing more innocent children. The heart and soul you give to make the world a safer place.
I’ve not forgotten the good you’ve done.
You were there for and came back when no one else would listen. You were my strength and voice when fear consumed my heart.
Appreciate Police Officers Rescue from Domestic Violence
I was twenty-one.
It was the worst day of my life—the day of my son’s open-heart surgery. Anthony, my firstborn, needed surgery at two years old to repair a heart defect.
After he went in for surgery, my husband and I went to the mall to buy a gift. I called to see if our monthly check had arrived at his request.
He became enraged because we had no money left to purchase drugs. Forcefully walking onto a wooden path, he picked up a large rock to threaten my life, saying, “I’ll kill you right here, and no one will ever find you.”
The look in his eyes was frightening; I yelled, “stop; you’re going to kill me.” He dropped the rock, grabbed the gift bag for our son, and slammed me over the head.
Walking back to the mall, blood pouring down my face, he said, “you’re going to tell the police someone raped you.” Shortly after calling, you arrived and drove us back to Albany Medical Center.
I went to the emergency room for twenty stitches in my head. You waited, and afterward, drove us to the mall where the incident occurred.
Then began asking questions and brought a k9 dog to the scene. Before long, the dog sat down on my husband’s side of the car. I was sure the officers knew. Shortly after, you drove us to the Ronald McDonald house.
After Anthony was home recovering, two police detectives came to talk about what happened. They drove me to a police barracks in Malta, New York, for questioning.
The officer said, “We wanted to wait until your son was home and recovering from surgery before questioning you.” I told the truth, stating I was too afraid to press charges.
He said, “you don’t have to press charges because we are pressing charges for you and your husband is already in jail.”
I signed a statement, and you drove me home. My husband got sentenced to six months in Jail for Domestic Violence.
The police were the first to speak out for me—the first to break the cycle of abuse and violence. The police saved my life.
I understand times are tough, and not everyone is perfect. And people have a right to voice opinions. But I want you to know, “I appreciate the police work you do. Thank you for putting your life on the line for me.”
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