Tag Archives: NYPD

Thoughts on Four Murdered Cops

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One of the things on my bucket list is saving a law enforcement officer’s life. They saved mine. In 1984 when I was held up and shot in the head at point blank range, members of the NYPD’s 84th Precinct were there in a flash and took me to the hospital. When I heard that four police officers from the City of Lakewood in Washington state were murdered in cold blood my bucket list commitment strengthened and my heart broke.

They four murdered officers are, Tina Griswold, 40; Ronald Owens, 37; Mark Renninger, 39; and Greg Richards, 42. They had families, friends, people who loved them, people they loved. They had dreams and hopes. And, they had a right to live out their lives. If that doesn’t break your heart, consider this; as a result of their murders, nine children have lost a parent. Renninger has three kids, Owens has one, Griswold has two and Richards has three

Law enforcement officers are human beings. Too many forget that. With a media addicted to reporting the worst in people, cops get ink when one of them abuses someone, does the wrong thing. And yes, when a law enforcement officer crosses the line, they deserve to be taken to task like anyone else. But the family of law enforcement officers across this nation do not deserve to be defined by the mistakes of some. The cops that raced to the scene when I got shot had no damned idea what they were walking into. Shots fired, man screaming for help. What can the get from that other than there has been gunfire? But they came anyway to stop the gunfire and try and save my life and they didn’t even know me! Their actions, going towards gunfire as opposed to away from it, are heroic by any measure, yet, in my case, as in the case of those like me, the media didn’t so much as lift a pen in interest.

There are four human beings dead now who had taken a job so they could protect and save lives like yours and mine.

I am sure I am not alone when I say I wish I could have protected them and saved their lives. All of my heart and soul is with their families and friends, and with their colleagues, and with all members of the law enforcement family in my country.

I am no one special and am anything but superman, but I will make this promise; if I ever encounter a situation where a law enforcement officer is being threatened or attacked, every ounce of my being will look to protect the life of the law enforcement officer. To those who might say, but Peter, you don’t even know these people or why risk your life, my answer is a simple one. The cops that saved my life didn’t know me and they risked their life to protect mine. They deserve to same and, for what it’s worth, they’ll  get it from me.

MEMOIR EXCERPT: I REMEMBER

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Dear Reader,

From time to time in this blog, though not in awhile, I publish an excerpt from the memoir I am working on. I am closing in on the end of this task, a scary and emotional proposition. When writing the following piece, I found myself overwhelmed with emotion. In fact, when it got to the part where the young man is begging for his life, I had to get up and leave the writing table. I did not return until the next day. It is striking to me how one can have a memory, much like something on a shelf, and manage its presence with some semblance of composure, yet, when you write the memory, you take it down from the shelf and live it. And then there is little shelter. Anyway, thank for for taking the time to read this, and I hope your life and the life of your loved ones is going well.

Peter S. Kahrmann, April 7, 2008

_______________________

I remember.

It is 1981 and I am walking down Court Street in Brooklyn with Charlie, a friend of mine. We hear angry voices behind us yelling and screaming. We turn and see a young black man running his heart out down the center of Court Street. He is coming towards us and he is being chased by maybe 20 angry young white boys, mostly teenagers. The young black man who looks to be in his twenties runs past us. His face is lit wild with terror.

Voices scream, “Get that fucking nigger! Get that nigger!” I tell Charlie get to the other side of the street, lets stay with this.

We are running on either side of the angry crowd of young whites now, watching what happens. Some are carrying sticks, pieces of two-by-four. One carries a piece of rebar about the length of a baseball bat. I am hoping the young black man will get away.

He doesn’t.

They catch him and the angry young white with the rebar slams it across the back of the young black man. He crumbles to the ground. He trys to get up but another angry young white breaks a piece of wood across his back. The young black man wobbles upwards and is downed again when a bottle is smashed across his head. There is blood now. He is on the ground screaming. “Please God don’t kill me! Please God! Please God! I have a wife and children! Please God! Please God don’t let them kill me!”

I lock eyes with Charlie and motion for him to call the police. I move fast into the crowd, reaching the young black man through a barrage of kicks and pounches. There is a pause in the violence, a sudden quiet, the angry mob does not know what to make of me. I pull the young black man up into my arms and hold him against a parked car so it shields him on one side. I shield him on the other.

Some in the angry mob try to reach past me and punch him. When this happens, I push the young black man into a crouch so he is out of reach and aim hard words back at the crowd, now nothing more than a single rage-filled being: seething, pulsing, breathing as one, dripping with hate.

I say, “What the fuck are you doing? You really want to kill him? You want to go to jail for him?”

One reaches in again. I shove him back hard and our eyes meet. I know if this mob explodes into us I will have to damage or kill someone quickly. Suddenly a big Italian man joins me in protecting the young black man. He is older than all of us, huge and burly, powerful, no nonsense. His presence nearly stills the mob completely. Later I find out he is one of the powers in the neighborhood and deeply respected by all.

Police units arrive and take the bleeding terrified young man to the hospital. I thank the big Italian man. He says, “Hey, I hear him say he got a wife and kids. That’s all I gotta hear. The man’s got family.”

The police say they are taking the young black man to Long Island College Hospital. The police are from the 84th Precinct, the same precinct that will save my life and take me to the same hospital just three years later.

AN AMBER ALERT FOR LAW ENFORCEMENT

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It is time for a nationwide Amber Alert for law enforcement officers and I am calling on New York Governor Eliot Spitzer and New York City Mayor Michael Bloomberg to lead the way.

Today I learned a New York State Trooper was shot to death and two others were wounded in the Catskills. It appears the man who shot the troopers, Travis D. Trim, 23, of North Lawrence, New York, was killed in a shoot-out with the State Police. Last summer Ralph “Bucky” Philips shot three New York State Troopers, killing one. He was caught after a five-month manhunt and is serving two life sentences. One wonders if Philips would have been caught sooner had an Amber-Alert type system been in place.

Is this personal for me? You bet it is. My life was saved by the New York City Police Department’s 84th Precinct in 1984 when I was held up and shot in the head at point blank range. All alone and bleeding to death from a head wound with the bullet lodged in my brain, I was able to get back to my feet, but my life would have soon ended if several units from the 84th Precinct hadn’t arrived lightening fast and taken me to the hospital.

I would propose calling the alert the Gregory alert, in honor of Brother Gregory Myles, a counselor at the New York State Police Academy, who selflessly tends to the hearts, minds and souls of those in the trooper family who are impacted by violence.

The Amber Alert website says the alert has saved the lives of hundreds of children. There is no doubt the Gregory Alert would have a similar effect. When these alerts are triggered, law enforcement notifies broadcasters, state and city transportation officials, radio and television programming is interrupted, alerts appear on highway signs, in e-mails, on wireless devices and on the internet.

When someone hurts or takes the life of a man or woman that has pledged to protect our lives with their own, an alert like this is the least we can do.