Derek Owens Fallen Hero

 

 In my nearly 18 years as a policeman, I’ve been to my share of police funerals. Ten of those years have been spent as a police supervisor and I’ve had one constant prayer. “Please God, don’t let me have to bury one of my own.” This Friday morning, I’ll be doing exactly that. And not just one of my own but one of my very best.

Patrol Officer Derek Owens # 746 with his partner Robert Goines #461 were investigating four males who were drinking in the garage of an abandoned house Friday evening when the men took off running. The officers gave chase and one of the four turned and shot at the officers striking Officer Owens in the abdomen. Both officers returned fire and other officers responded to assist.

Officer Owens was rushed to the hospital in a patrol car and, in keeping true to his good nature, he joked with the officers about their driving while en route. While spirits were high and hopeful early-on, Derek succumbed to his injuries and died shortly after 12:30 Saturday morning.

Although it has been some time since I have been Derek’s supervisor, we still greeted each other nearly every day. From where I sit, at a borrowed desk in the Detective Section, I can see straight down the main hall of the second floor. There, I would see the officers come in from the stairwell and come down the hall, to the locker room, at change of shift. Derek was always on time for duty and always came bouncing (we short people have a tendency to walk tip-toe) toward me with a big smile and a friendly wave. ”Hey L.T.”  I already miss our daily visits. Brief as they were, they were a reminder of better days for me.

I saw a tv show where kids lost a friend to death and were instructed to deal with their grief by writing a letter to the departed. I thought I’d try it myself. You are encouraged to do the same in your comments.

Derek, 

You served with the greatest honor and bravery. I am proud to have been allowed to work with you. I can’t imagine the pain and loss faced by your beautiful children and wife. I hope you know we’re there for them Derek.
On Friday we’ll lay your earthly remains in the ground. You weren’t Irish, but there will be bagpipes playing anyway. I hope you like that; it’s tradition. When you hear the 21 gun salute, know that you earned it Derek. On Friday morning, grown men will cry. Brave men with guns and badges and broken hearts. We will cry. Then Friday afternoon, we’ll make you proud!
In this life you always called me L.T. in defference to my rank. In the next, I hope you’ll call me Mike.

 

Be Offended!

How many times have we been offended by words similar to the following: “It doesn’t bother me that you’re gay, so long as you… _____________.” You can fill in the blank. I’ve heard everything from “…try to kiss me” to “…keep your sex-life private”. What is the hang-up with homophobic people and their fear that we want to somehow molest or convert them?
The point I’m trying to make is that I get offended in every instance that 1. A person feels I need them to tell me that I have their approval to be gay and 2. That that approval is somehow qualified by a statement that makes it clear that they are not gay themselves and that they really don’t approve at all. I do the same thing when someone tells me they have a disease: ‘Oh, you have a cold? That’s okay, so long as you don’t try to kiss me.’
What is even worse is that if I express that I am offended, I offend! What? I’m supposed to be overjoyed that someone is tolerant enough to say something like that?! Sure, they mean well, that is, they intend to mean well. What they do in fact is express how they truly feel. “I’m better than you but

Truth

It is fact, well known and oft joked about, among my colleagues, that I hold to a belief that it is never the right thing to do to tell a lie. Although it’s not what this piece is about, this also had a lot to do with my coming out of the closet as a gay cop. This, as you can imagine has made me a peculiar person in the eyes of some. It has however been of great help to me make good decisions in my law enforcement career; a career that has included being, at one time, the youngest lieutenant on the Cleveland Division of Police.
I’ve come to depend upon honesty as a light in the dark and made of it a way of life. Not so much in the “holier than thou” sense as in the “don’t ask if you can’t handle it” sense. When I first started I found that the power of truth was like a drug and it took some practice to learn to use it with some finesse in order not to hurt feelings etc… but used consistently, I’ve found that the truth offers me a cloak of protection thicker and more dependable than any armor.

Ohio Lesbian Gay Police Association – 3 Members Strong!!!

My cell phone rang and I recognized the phone exchange as being from a Cleveland-Westside neighborhood, but I didn’t recognize the number. I answered with a safe “Hello?” and a female voice replied: “Is this correct number for the O.L.G.P.A.?” I have to admit that it’s been a while since anyone has called my number asking for the O.L.G.P.A., even though the number is listed in a weekly gay newspaper called the Gay People’s Chronicle which is distributed throughout the state of Ohio. The acronym stands for the Ohio Lesbian Gay Police Association and in all actuality it means the three brave souls on the Cleveland Police Department who are willing to keep the phone on and the web page active in case we are ever truly wanted.

As much as I was hoping that it was a real, live, call offering or asking for help; the call was from a Chronicle employee, verifying  that the organization still existed and that the contact information was up to date. The sad truth in the state of Ohio however is that a gay organization for police is desperately needed and, maybe for the very same reasons that this is the case, seemingly impossible to get off the ground.
I joined the police department in 1990 and, shortly after, began secretly scouring the Internet for an organization of gay police officers operating in my area. I discovered that if such a thing existed it was indeed, like myself, deeply closeted and I could not find it out. I gave up on the idea until many years later after I had been married and was getting divorced.