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Lawdog nails it.

https://thelawdogfiles.blogspot.com/2018/03/meditations-on-death.html

READ THIS.

Mr. Dog understands Duty, and Honorable actions. A week or two ago, I heard a police officer interviewed on the radio, talking about law enforcement response to active shooters.  It went something like this: You hear bad noises.  Go to where the noises are coming from, and make it all stop. Period.

After Sandy Hook, within my family we discussed What Should We DO? I looked at my wife, she looked at me, and we agreed:  armed hall monitors, like in Israel.  I was asked, “How are the schools supposed to afford that?”

We answered, “Well, for 4 days a week, when she and I are not at work, my grandchildrens’ school will not have to worry about that expense. ”

“Do you think you will kill an armed intruder, intent on shooting students?”

My answer, “I sure as hell hope so! In any event, said intruder will have something to worry about, other than which is the next helpless victim.  I am confident I’ll fuck up his attack plan.”

I was told, “You’ll simply get yourself killed.”

My reply:  “That is possible, may be likely.  Can I not measure up to the courage of the teacher who died, sheltering other people’s children, with her own body? If I fix him in place long enough for the responding officers to END HIM, will my death have been in vain?”

Could it be, that my wife and I are the only parents/grandparents/neighbors who would volunteer for such duty?

I cannot believe that.

Mrs. Clinton’s child was protected, in school, by men with guns.

Mr. and Mrs. Obama’s children were protected, in school, by men with guns.

They are not alone.  Politicians’ children are protected by men with guns. (d)s, as well as (r)s.

Are not your children, your grandchildren, as worthy of protection as theirs? As anyone’s?

 

 

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FNG here. How-De-Do!

I’m an old stretcher ape. Started in EMS a long, long time ago, working in, and for Da Big City. Worked my way through nursing school, and eventually went to grad school, in my capacity of Official Old Fart. I’m chock full of stories, all of which begin with the obligatory disclaimer, followed by the Mark One, Mod 0 preamble: “This is no shit! There I was, fighting disease and saving lives….”