PAX Centurion - Summer 2017

Page 18 • PAX CENTURION • Summer 2017 617-989-BPPA (2772) A PART OF AMER ICA DIED Somebody killed a policeman today and part of America died. A piece of our country he swore to protect will be buried with him at his side. The suspect who shot him will stand up in court, with counsel demanding his rights, While a young widowed mother must work for her kids and spend many long, lonely nights. The beat that he walked was a battlefield, too, just as if he’d gone off to war. Though the flag of our nation won’t fly at half-mast, to his name they will add a gold star. Yes, somebody killed a policeman today, it happened in your town and mine. While we slept in comfort behind our locked doors, a cop put his life on the line. Now his ghost walks a beat on a dark city street, and he stands at each rookie’s side. He answered the call, and gave us his all. And part of America died. Memorial Day Services In honor of the deceased members of the Boston Police Department O O O Organized 1871 Program ECUMENICAL MEMOR I AL SERVICE 10:00 A.M. March to “BPRA” Memorial Mass celebrated by Reverend John J. Connolly National Anthem: P.O. Teddy Hendricks Invocation: Grand Rabbi Y. A. Korff Welcome: Brian Gill, President Boston Police Relief Association Selection by the Boston Police Gaelic Column Remarks: Charlie Baker, Governor Commonwealth of Massachusetts Martin J. Walsh, Mayor City of Boston William B. Evans, Commissioner Boston Police Department Reading of the Roll: William G. Gross, Superintendent-in-Chief Boston Police Department Amazing Grace: Gaelic Column 21 Gun Salute: Mobile Operations Patrol Taps: Honor Guard Boston Police Relief Association Benediction: Reverend Gary Adams Selection by the Boston Police Gaelic Column Pass in Review The Police Officer stood and faced God, Which must always come to pass. He hoped his shoes were shining, Just as brightly as his brass. “Step forward now, you policeman, How shall I deal with you? Have you always turned the other cheek? To My Church have you been true?” The policeman squared his shoulders and said, “No, Lord, I guess I ain’t. Because those of us who carry guns, Can’t always be a saint. I’ve had to work most Sundays, And at times my talk was tough. And sometimes I’ve been violent, Because the world is awfully rough. But, I never took a penny, That wasn’t mine to keep… Though I worked a lot of overtime, When the bills got just too steep. And I never passed a cry for help, Though at times I shook with fear. And sometimes, God, forgive me, Final Inspection Author Unknown The Police Officer stood and faced God, Which must always come to pass. He hoped his shoes were shining, Just as brightly as his brass. “Step forward now, you policeman, How shall I deal with you? Have you always turned the other cheek? To My Church have you been true?” The policeman squared his sh ulders and said, “No, Lord, I guess I ain’t. Because those of us who carry guns, Can’t always be a saint. I’ve had to work most Sundays, And at times my talk was tough. And sometimes I’ve been violent, Because the world is awfully rough. But, I never took a penny, That wasn’t mine to keep… Though I worked a lot of overtime, When the bills got just too steep. And I never passed a cry for help, Though at times I shook with fear. And sometimes, God, forgive me, I’ve wept unmanly tears. I know I don’t deserve a place, Among the people here. They never wanted me around, Except to calm their fears. If you’ve a place for me here, Lord, It needn’t be so grand. I never expected or had too much, But if you don’t, I’ll understand.” There was a silence all around the throne, Where the saints had often trod. As the police officer waited quietly, For the judgment of his God. “Step forward now, you policeman, You’ve borne your burdens well. Walk peacefully on Heaven’s streets, You’ve done your time in Hell.” Final Inspection Author Unknown