By Greg Payton
There is a sound during the wee hours of the night in the home of a law enforcement officer. It is simple yet profound. At first it is subtle, then it has a volume that can’t be dampened. You won’t hear it in other homes and if you did it would have little meaning. Its substance is not lost on the officer or those awaken by it.
On one hand it signifies another shift is over, a safe return to sanctuary, all is well. Then there is the deeper meaning. The reason behind the sound, its significance, the possibilities, the concern, the worry, and the wakefulness.
The first is the quiet release of the Velcro on the gun belt and the squeak of leather as it’s placed in a safe place. The second, the one that can’t be muted in volume, is the rip of the Velcro straps during the removal of the ballistic vest. The wearer can return quietly home, open and close doors softly, move carefully through the rooms, but the large Velcro straps on the vest can’t be silenced.
The vest is hung on a hanger until the next shift. Those that have heard the sound carry the burden of its meaning.
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This first appeared in The Havok Journal on January 12, 2024.
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