The horrible and tragic murder of police officer Peter Figoski is a loss for all the people of NYC and America. Why is it so upsetting that the murder of a man I never had the honor of meeting would have such an emotional effect on me. I asked myself this and I thought of many reasons but what stands out to me most is the upset in my friends eyes. Police officers that have served many years with pride and integrity, men who have seen and endured situations and pain on a daily basis that your average person would talk about for years. The disrespect given to these brave men and women from all areas of society is disgusting; the public and politicians who dare compare their work and salaries with any other private or civil service job and complain about the benefits or salary makes me want to puke.
How many of those jobs require you to strap on a bullet resistant vest and firearm? How many times has the wife or husband of an office worker swallowed hard as they kissed their loved one goodbye with a sneaking suspicion that they might not return? How many times have these whining, petty, jealous civilians had their child cling to their leg with tears running down his face pleading ” daddy please don’t go, I don’t want you to die ” because the child just watched the news and how many nightmares did that child wake to? How many holidays did that 9-5 office worker miss because he had to stand in the rain and cold on Christmas, New Years, 4th of July and every other holiday? What is it like to know the guy or girl you are standing next to may not be there tomorrow because he may be killed responding to a routine job? What is it like to wonder if you will make the right decision in the inevitable life and death situations you will encounter? If some judge or jury will take your freedom because you made a mistake? What does it feel like to know that because you actively do something you put your job on the line because someone may not like the trouble you caused by investigating or actualy doing something? How about the responsibility to your partner for his life and safety? What about his wife or kids if you make the ultimate mistake? My thoughts are with every single police officer, their families and friends. The reminder of our own mortality and accompanying emotions are real. What we allow this to do to us or what we decide to do as a result of this tragedy makes all the difference and defines each individual. May god help us make good decisions and guide our actions in a posive way like being a little kinder to our acquaintances and keeping the honor of this hero alive.
By Marc Cosentino
Joe is a true sports legend and has been an inspiration to me since he won the gold meddle with a broken thumb on his punching hand. He was the epitome of Heart. No matter what was thrown at him by Mohamed Ali , he just kept coming, a real life Rocky from Philadelphia. I had the pleasure of meeting him and shaking those massive scar covered hands. It was when I was just a body double for Andy Garcia on the set of -The Yards. What impressed me most about Joe Frazier the World Champion was his graciousness. He treated me and every person on that set as if they were as important as any star or celebrity. He made people feel important and that is something I will always admire and respect about that genuine human being. I wish him well on his journey and salute him for his accomplishments. Marc Cosentino
Posted on Routine Patrol.
Hot Rodding gets in your blood. I have never met anyone who didn’t have at least a mild interest in cars. And truth be told I have never seen anyone ignore a well executed hot rod, vintage muscle car, classic or sleek sports car as it cruised by with it’s subtle or not so subtle clues. Some had the glint of sparkling chrome off a freshly waxed bumper with the blinding reflection of the sun signaling the arrival of a 57 Chevy or a 69 Dodge. Others had the unmistakable silhouette of a Shelby Cobra or a Split Window Corvette. Then there was that low ground shaking lope of a roller cammed Hemi idling by as it turned on some primal yearning for power and speed. Still there was the bright, shiny and wild colors of paint screaming ” Look at me” like the fist time I witness a candy apple red paint job reflected in the sun. The pleasure I would get from just cruising my 71 Chevy Nova through the streets to waves and thumbs up was a genuine connection with people who had deep understanding of what it means be a Hot Rodder or a just longing for simpler times and the genuine pleasure of the open road with it’s promise of Freedom. I think that really is the attraction for this boy. The adventure of new places with the understanding that anywhere you go, you have arrived at a place with an opening to the lives and stories of others because everybody has a car story.
Posted on Routine Patrol.
In 10 years we never spoke of that day or the events that followed but in speaking of attending a memorial service to commemorate the 800 volunteer ministers from ground zero, the horror and insanity of it welled up in my eyes. At first Barbara didn’t want to attend because at 70 years old she would be tired from working all day in Brooklyn and then have to take a train into Manhattan then a train and bus back to Brooklyn later that evening. Once she started talking about it the feelings rushed in and the pride for having been there with her family and friends took over and she decided to come any way despite how tired and late she would get home. I could see the pain and suffering of the rescue workers overwhelmed, tired, heartbroken but not beaten, as she spoke. I could hear her voice break and see tears held back for my sake the same way she did the first night at ground zero, mustering all her courage to be strong for the men and women in blue so as not to add to their grief. She had a special place in heart knowing her son was a member of the NYPD and knowing a lot of these rescue workers personally. A frail woman of sixty stood amidst the devastation both human and physical among the rescue workers and Volunteer Ministers of the Church of Scientogy NY. She was not trained for rescue work as a first responder but as a human being who cared enough to risk her own life to show up along with her family and friends to do what she could to support the rescue workers. Along with her sons, daughter and grandson she worked for weeks doing anything she could to help provide succor, a drink of water or just a smile. The worst in man has a strange way of bringing out the best in man. This man wants to acknowledge Barbra Yarshevitz for setting a fine example of kindness and courage in extreme conditions in the finest tradition of heroes from any walk of life in any situation. Along with all the people who helped you have my gratitude. Thank you Mom.
Posted on Routine Patrol.
I didn’t want to dwell on that crisp September day 10 years ago despite all the media attention. I tried to resist the news clips and television shows depicting the events of that day. The terrible injustice felt by friends on being told there is no room for the first responders at the memorial service. What could the the decision maker be thinking? Who made this decision? Not only did these brave men ands women risk everything ( which is what they do every day) but they were ring side to the horror and suffered loss that is beyond words. The majority of these heroes both dead and alive left the comfort of their homes, said good bye to their families and raced to respond because their country was under attack and people needed them. Those people could have been any one, you, me, your family, your friends. They did not care, they just went. Do not piss on my leg and tell me it’s raining! NY city is a big place and some arrangement could be made for these men and women. They earned every right to be there and are still dying from the poisons that our cowardly leaders said were not real or we should not be concerned with. This service is for the people, WE ARE THE PEOPLE! This should not be a political dog and pony show. GOD BLESS AMERICA!
Posted on Routine Patrol.
Chief Ray Diaz is one of the most dedicated and hardest workers I have ever met. No sick days, no watching the clock at the end of tour just doing the right thing by his own personal standards. No one held a gun to his head to work so hard and no one ever expected such a dedication and care. He has his own standards which are high enough. Two time purple heart recipient fighting for his country as a young Marine in Vietnam during some of the heaviest action. I have personally watched him run into gunfire to help the officers of his platoon as a young lieutenant in the NYPD 25 years ago. He had the patience and graciousness of a saint and believe me, I tested them as young officer. At his “walk out” (last day of his career) Police Commissioner Kelly went on and on about his great work on various commands and especially taking over the 70 Pct. at a very low point and turning it around through hard work and involvement with the community. Then it was Ray’s departing speech which was one of praise for the NYPD and the great people in his life who helped and guided him. By the hundreds of guys who jammed in like sardines to wish him well you knew they cared. In all the years I have known him I have never heard anyone speak ill of him and have never seen him do something mean or malicious. In a job of super egos he didn’t have one. But the thing that gets me most is that the NY News couldn’t even give him a page. 41 years, 3 Star Chief decorated soldier and hero but a small blip in a paper that devotes pages to the vile, degraded, criminals and “famous celebrities or sports figures” who have never put their lives in jeopardy for anyone, risked their freedom and careers to do their job or stood for anything but themselves. Something is so wrong with this society and our values are being lowered and corrupted by the low standards we accept. It is no wonder that people look down on police when the life of someone like this goes un acknowledged.
Posted on Routine Patrol.
This may sound ludicrous however it is true. Thanks to a 1/2 billion dollar Federal
grant to; psych studies, diagnosis and treatment of 0-3 year olds (yes even in this miserable economy we are pissing away hundreds of millions on make believe “doctors” with made up mental “disorders”.) A prominent case that actually made it to the NY Times on 15 February 2007 was an article titled Debate Over Children and Psychiatric Drugs, the horror of medicating a 2 year old child resulting in her overdose and death brings it home as to just how evil and insidious these blatant drug pushers are getting. Childhood is not a disease, nor are these quacks even doctors. A society of dull, obedient, compliant, unoriginal, psychiatric drug induced biochemical well mannered puppies is the goal and inevitable result of this drug pushing machine. The fact that billions of dollars are being made on this with a great portion from your tax dollars should make you sick. This is blood money! Visit CCHR.org for more info