The President of the United States Said He Was Proud of Me

My own father never told me those words, but George W. Bush did.

Many people don’t agree with former President Bush’s policies, etc., but I watched him and I knew he had an excellent heart.  He is a good man.  He’s a good person and so is his wife, Laura.  I appreciate kindness and mercy in people more than any other quality, I think, because those qualities are so incredibly rare today.

President Bush absolutely did not have to take time out of his incredibly busy schedule to meet me, shake my hand and say, “Good job.  I’m proud of you.”  But he did.

The reason I’m writing about this is because I just finished filling out another application for another law enforcement job.  Whether you can understand this or not, filling these applications out always triggers the most horrific, awful memories.  In fact, it re-traumatizes and reminds me of all the lies, betrayal and deception that was done to me.  “Get over it already”, you say.  I am trying, trust me.  But when I am reminded of what I had and what I lost every, single day, that is not an easy thing to do.  So don’t judge me until you’ve walked an inch in my shoes.  I have been through hell and I just told God (again) I can’t take anymore.

Like King David, I am waiting to be vindicated, to have my name and my reputation cleared; to have justice done in my life.  When is that going to happen?  No one on this planet has a clue how much this waiting and this suffering is torturing me.  No one.

If you are disgusted with my grief, then that’s your problem and you’re an insensitive asshole.  Where is the mercy?  Where is the compassion?  Where are the true friends?

But this depth of pain is too much, even for friends.  I get that.  So I keep my pain to myself-most of the time-until I just can’t anymore.  And I cannot always turn to the bottle.  It is not my friend, it is my enemy. Alcohol is like that phony person who pretends to sympathize, pats you on the back for a few minutes, then walks away leaving you feeling more empty than before.  That’s alcohol.  So let me write for therapy, would you?

I know something good is going to happen in my life.  I just don’t know when, and that’s the difficult part.  People don’t want to be around sad people and I don’t want people seeing me sad.  But I get so damn lonely.

I have no idea why all of this has happened in my life.   I thought I was being vindicated from what those jackasses in the Minneapolis Police Dept. did to me after the incident at New Life Church, but I was hugely mistaken.  Instead, my life got worse.  I promise you this, though, all those lies are soon to be exposed.  Very soon.

If you’re weary of reading about my life, don’t read about my life.  No one is putting a gun to your head; just mine.

 

I Prefer Liquid Friends

You probably shouldn’t read this if you’re one of those uppity or overly-religious people who get offended by everything.  Or if you can’t handle the truth.

I am wondering if anyone else believes that a good, stiff drink makes you feel better than some of our friends do at times.  I do.

I don’t mean to sound like an alcoholic because I’m not.  But I am increasingly turning to an alcoholic beverage in the early evenings when I get home.  I have one glass.  Sometimes two.   After that, I feel better.  Not so……..whatever.

Dare I write such disturbing thoughts?  Will I turn off potential employers by being so transparent?  Will I turn off the public?  Will I turn off my “friends”?

Those thoughts are thoughts to consider, but they don’t carry enough weight to not write them down.  Or to share them with whoever reads this.  I am a risk-taker by nature.

It is very, very freeing to write with disregard for what other people might think about me.  I’m not crazy, I’m honest.  And many, if not most, people appreciate honesty over make believe.

If you don’t like me or want to be friends anymore, don’t act like you do. No “air kisses” please.  I’d rather we be respectfully distant around each other.  I can handle the truth.  It hurts, but I can handle it.  And don’t hug me if you can’t accept my sexual orientation.  Accept all of me, or none at all.

I am more forgiving of human flaws than most.  We’re humans, not gods.  We make mistakes.  And many are unintentional.  Hear me out.  I will hear you out.  Apologize and I will forgive.  Forgive me when I apologize.  Who invented the grudge anyway?  Makes no sense to me.  Lets move on and continue to enjoy our friendship, can we?

It’s 2:45 in the afternoon as I write.  In another couple of hours, I will enjoy another visit with my faithful, liquid friend.  And I will be just fine.

Wasted Life

I literally cannot stand Facebook.  I deactivated my account a couple days ago and that felt good.  I did it for a few other reasons, but mostly because I have sunk about as low as a person can right before they take that final “step”.  I won’t take that step, though, because I love my cat too much.

I want to start over.  I want the last 14 years of my life back.  I have a lot to offer any employer, particularly in the law enforcement field, but none will give me a chance, though I am more than qualified.

Here’s the thing; I’m honest, hard-working, have great integrity and principles, am in excellent physical condition, and I would give my life to save anyone elses, including those who have done their best to destroy me. I don’t have to like those people, but I promise you I would not hesitate to save them.

And I have been destroyed.

I had to shoot and kill a gunman who had already murdered 4 innocent people and wounded 4 others. I shot him multiple times, under fire, and his blood from an arterial wound in his neck that I inflicted, sprayed all over me as I attempted to handcuff him after I fired the last, fatal shots.  (While I was with the Minneapolis Police, we were trained to handcuff dead or alive).

I didn’t want to kill anyone, but he gave me no choice.   When that gunman entered the church with his AR-15, I wasn’t afraid, I didn’t get tunnel vision, and I didn’t have any problems breathing normally.  I was in my element and I knew exactly what to do.  Yes, I knew there was a chance I could be killed, but that fact didn’t deter me for a minute, nor did it frighten me for a second.  We shot at each other.  While I hit him multiple times, he missed me.

The coroner correctly stated that I killed the gunman after shooting him multiple times, then days later, a cover story came out, trashing the hell out of me with complete lies, saying I “lied during an investigation” while with Minneapolis and was fired for it.  No, folks, I did not lie during any investigation and my proof is on video.  Then, on the inside of that same newspaper, the coroner suddenly changed his mind and said the gunman killed himself after I merely inflicted a “flesh wound to his thigh”.  Really?  A flesh wound, huh.  Yet the gunman had maps to other locations where he was going to go shoot people after he shot up New Life, and he had well over 1,000 rounds on him, as well as a thousand more rounds in the trunk of his car and another high-powered rifle, an AK-47.

He also had over $300 cash on him, two cell phones, and was dressed like a SWAT officer.  Oh, but he gave up and decided he should kill himself after I inflicted this “flesh wound to his thigh”.  Give me a break.

Did any of you know that the gunman actually warned New Life Church that he was coming there to kill?  He sent an email to New Life, which they did receive, and I verified this with an Arvada Police officer.  (Arvada is the first location the gunman killed people before coming to Colorado Springs).  I only found that fact out last year. This fact was also not made known to the public.  There were approximately 7,000 people on the church campus at the time of the shooting.  The gunman, Matthew Murray, patiently waited until all uniformed police officers left in their squads, then he made his move.

So many lies were told after the shooting, but especially lies were told about me. New Life Church destroyed my reputation, nationwide, so they could preserve their own.  And that is the truth.  I still don’t have a cop job.  I promise you, if I would not have been lied about, I would have a cop job by now.  I am a police officer and I have been one since March 03,1993.  I am very good at what I do.  I love combat, I am not afraid of the enemy, and the more danger there is, the more interesting I find my job.  And no, I am not an adrenaline junkie.  I am simply not one ounce intimidated or frightened by the bad guy, and neither should any other police officers be.

Females make excellent soldiers and cops, yet it’s always the males who are portrayed as the heroes in movies, on TV, etc.  You men are not the only heroes and you know it.  We don’t need you to save us or protect us.  No man, and I mean not even my own father, has ever protected me.  But I don’t need protecting, I need a job.

Why does my life have to be wasted?

Why do wicked men prosper?  Especially dishonest, crooked preachers like Brady Boyd of New Life Church?  Why does that pathological liar get to prosper when I suffer?  He’s no better than Ted Haggard, sexually taking advantage of  young men who were hurting and had reached out to him for his help.

Risking your life to save others doesn’t mean anything anymore.  I would risk my life again and again to save others and I’m glad I have done it because every life matters, but it is clear that my life doesn’t matter. I say that only as a fact I have had to get used to, but still am not.

Here’s the tragic moral of my story and of most stories in this world; be honest, be brave, have integrity and you will gain nothing.  Be crooked, be evil, be corrupt, and you will have everything.

Being Unemployed Isn’t Sexy

“What do you do for work?”

“I’m a police officer”.

“What agency are you with?”

“None at the moment.”

Sounds attractive, doesn’t it?  Not really.

It’s actually quite embarrassing and humiliating, but I know I am not alone.  I know many of us don’t have jobs right now.  That is just wrong and I am very sorry for all of you who are struggling right now.

I have applied with police departments since the shooting at new life church, but they won’t even background me.  I cannot tell you how this makes me feel.  I don’t know why they won’t even give me a chance, but I do know I have a lot to offer them.  The fact that my own kind won’t let me back in to the career I love with a passion absolutely devastates me-and it’s wrong of them.  What more must I do to prove that I am a good cop?  Many of my police officer friends have told me that a high-profile incident like mine is a career-ender.  Why?

Why does someone like Elliott Spitzer, who paid high dollar for prostitutes, get a fantastic job with CNN when others of us who have broken no laws get no job offers?

After the news of the shooting came out, some reporter from the Gazette quickly dug up some very false dirt on me from my 5 years working for the Minneapolis Police Department.  Minneapolis fired me after I allegedly called a bus driver an asshole after he deliberately blocked me in in my squad car-while I was on a call.  I did not call him an asshole to his face as alleged, but rather, I muttered it to myself after I had spoken with him.  This whole incident was captured on videotape, proving my innocence, yet they still fired me.

The only thing the reporters wrote in the paper was that I “lied during an investigation”.  No, I did not lie.  I am not a liar.  I am not a perfect person, but I do have  integrity.

I get the message; don’t apply to anymore police departments because they are simply not interested in me.  But I have no idea what else I can do for a living.  I have invested so much in my beloved career.  I even earned my degree in college in criminal justice with a minor in psychology.  I have also worked as a parole officer and a criminal investigator, both for the State of Colorado.  I wrote a book.  I’m a nice person.  Geesh….

The gunman in my incident gave me no choice but to take his life.  I wish no people had to die that day, but they did.

Honestly, sometimes it feels as if my life was also taken that day.  And I have a right to feel what I feel.

I Need A Sign

One of the most difficult things we can ever do is to wait on God to bring us justice.

But it’s the right thing to do and our time will come.  Many of us have been lied about and mistreated, but God sees everything and those wrongs will not go unnoticed or without God taking action.

I believe that myself.  Most days.

Then there are the days when I really appreciate that song by Train called, “Calling All Angels” where the first line is, “I need a sign, to let me know you’re here” (referring to God).   Today is one of those days.

I know I will pull out of this funk, but writing is therapeutic and I know I’m not alone in my thoughts.  My hope is to help anyone else who needs encouragement right now.

We’re going to be okay.  God is a god of truth and justice.  The truth will come out one day and we will experience justice.

Hang in there and keep your eyes on God no matter how difficult things get.  People will always disappoint and betray, but the one true God in heaven never will.  Scripture says, “everything that is hidden will be uncovered”.  I will cling to that truth with my own jaws of life and I encourage you to do the same.

I won’t give up if you don’t give up.

Missing Piece: Integrity

Where has integrity gone? 

Integrity, to me, is one of the finest qualities a person can have.  These days, unfortunately,  it’s also the most rare.

When we tell someone we’re going to meet them someplace,  we should not only show up, but be on time.  When we promise to help a friend move, rain or shine, we need to keep our word to them.  And when we promise someone a job, we need to fulfill our promise to that person. 

We are damaging not only good relationships, but also our soul when we simply blow people off without any communication or explanation whatsoever.  Keeping our word to someone is having integrity and it should come to us naturally as well as easily. 

Integrity is putting others first and ourselves second.  Maybe we don’t feel like doing something we promised.  That shouldn’t matter.  We need to put our feelings aside, keep our committment, and show people that they matter because we all do.