My former detective partner, and friend of nearly 45 years, passed away Sunday afternoon. He and I solved a lot of tough cases together, and side-by-side we fought the good fight, sometimes not knowing if we’d ever make it home again. And, believe me, we’d been in many tough spots in our day.
Not only were we police officers who shared a love of our job, we also enjoyed a friendship away from the bad guys, guns, and our gold badges. He was a singer and I a guitar player, and throughout the years we played in a couple of bands together.
I eventually gave up the days of hauling heavy equipment and playing cover tunes to people gyrating on sticky dance floors. He, however, was still performing until the last week of his life. He loved it. In fact, the last time I saw my friend, he gave me a copy of his band’s latest CD.
During his time as a police officer and investigator, my former partner had been shot twice and managed to survive both incidents. He’d also been stabbed once while making an arrest. He pulled through that time too. But his recent illness was far too much for his tired body to bear. My thoughts and prayers are with his wife, daughters, and brothers and sister. In just a few short months he would have been a grandfather, but he didn’t make it to see the new addition to his beloved family.
You’ll be missed by many, my friend, especially by me.
I know heaven’s door has opened wide for you.