First on scene

I do some volunteer chaplaincy work with the Perry Police Department. The time I spend with them is far too limited, but it is valuable to me, and I hope valuable to them as well. Every so often I will meet prior to shift change and pray with the officers going on duty; asking God to get them home safely at the end of their shift. But most often my time is spent riding along with an officer for a few hours, every few weeks. It has been an interesting experience, to say the least. Usually, there isn’t a lot going on around Perry, and they seem to be extra careful not to get near any “real action” with a civilian in the car. But that all changed on the morning of Friday, April 10^th. 

That particular day I was riding with Officer Mann. If I’m being honest, the first hour or two was kind of boring. We drove and talked about random things. I learned about his hobbies and family and his time spent in law enforcement. We answered a couple small calls and watched for speeders, but there really wasn’t much going on. The only exception was there was abnormally heavy traffic flowing through town because of an accident on I-75. Then in a flash of time, he received a call, and things went from super quiet to super concerning. 

Officer Mann had been dispatched to help with the traffic on the north side of town, and so we were making our way northbound on Macon Road. When all of sudden he turns on his lights, flips on the siren, whips the car around, and hammers the gas. I had no clue what was going on. Like many officers, Mann wears an ear piece through which he communicates with dispatch. Unbeknownst to me, a threat had been made and 911 had been alerted. I asked, “what happened?” He said, “someone has a weapon at Perry High School.” I kid you not, within 30 seconds we were parked near the school and he started giving orders. Mann said; “get out and stand over there near that house, I may need the car and I can’t have you in it … do not move until you are cleared to do so!” I did as instructed – for the next hour and a half. 

Mann reached behind him between our seats, unhooked his tactical weapon and took off cautiously, but quickly towards the school. He and a Houston County Deputy were first on scene. With weapons drawn, they rushed towards the school, not knowing what they were running into. They made their way together towards the front doors, contacted the staff inside, and entered the building. Within minutes, there were officers everywhere. Like everywhere. I have never seen so many cop cars. Each wearing full tactical gear, and each ready to do what was necessary to keep these kids safe. Law enforcement quickly set up a perimeter, stopped all traffic, sent up a drone overhead, and were actively searching and securing the area. 

Soon after we arrived a staff member came over the school PA and said, “this is not a drill, we are under a ‘Code Red.’ Teachers secure your rooms. Students stay where you are.” A little while later, another announcement; “Panthers, officers are on the scene, you are safe, please be patient while they secure the halls and grounds.” My heart was heavy for these kids. Some of them likely frightened. I could imagine others acting tough, as if they weren’t afraid. I was told later, in one of the classrooms, students pushed a bookcase in front of their door. 

As I stood helpless in some stranger’s front yard waiting, I prayed. I prayed for the officers. I prayed for the staff. And I certainly prayed for the students. Later, we found out someone had phoned in a threat, and there wasn’t actually someone on school grounds with a weapon. However, when the call came in and those first responders arrived, they didn’t know that. None of them knew what they were rushing into. But rush in they did. 

I could not be any prouder of the Perry Police Department and the Houston County Sheriff’s Department. Without hesitation they each and every one put themselves (as best they knew) in harm’s way. Without blinking any eye, this 20-something-year-old officer who I was riding with (who doesn’t even have kids) went running towards that school ready to do what needed to be done to keep your kids safe. 

We Americans forget things way too quickly. In our 24-hour news cycle society, we forget stuff way to soon. But I will not forget the bravery I witnessed that day. This was one of the most powerful moments I have ever witnessed in person. In a culture gone crazy, where mindless buffoons suggest we should defund the police, we ought instead to thank God for the courage of these men and women and support them as best we can. Sadly, we live in a world where school shootings happen. We live in a world where children and teenagers sitting in school, are in danger. Thank God for the training, discipline and bravery of our local LEO’s and the good work they do to keep us (and our children) safe.

So let me close by offering some advice.
Rather than criticizing and maximizing their every flaw; support the police. No, they’re not perfect; but I have spent enough time with our police chief and the members of his department to know, they try hard to serve us well. We don’t rightly appreciate them nearly enough. Therefore, given the opportunity, say thanks to our officers and deputies for their service. Buy them lunch sometime. And if you are a Christian, pray for them, and pray often. Pray for their families. Pray for their safety. Pray they get home safe at the end of their shift. Romans 13:1-7 and 1 Timothy 2:1-3 instructs believers to pray for those in authority that we might lead a quiet and peaceable life. 

Our kids are grown, and we didn’t have any children in school that day. But many of you did – and you ought to thank God for the way our men and women in blue responded. And like I told officer Mann, when he came and finally gave me the all clear … next time I won’t complain about it being boring! Because quiet shifts are good shifts for cops.