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.

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 I’ll toss you a bone” “Hey I like gay people so long as they know their place.” “You’re good enough to serve my food and work my retail counter but don’t presume to ask me on a date.”
Heterosexual men and women are able to pre-qualify potential romantic encounters based on sex alone right? Wrong! So why make the presumption that that is what we do? At the risk of sounding arrogant, simply being a man is hardly enough to qualify you for a date with me. In fact, I’m not even in the dating market.
Just like many men in hetero families, I am in a happy committed relationship. I have partner, a 12-year-old son and a normal work and social life. When I meet a woman she can see that I’m male. Never have I met a woman who has said: “I see that you’re male, I’m fine with that, just don’t try one of those cheesy come on lines okay?” Even when they find out that I’m single, they say nothing. So, why does it need to be stated that I should specifically not discuss certain things when It comes up that I’m gay? What do people fear I might say?
At work I get this more than any other place. This is scary because I work in a police station. This is the place where folks carry guns, aren’t afraid of anything and protect the people who are. Really? Maybe if every time someone said something so stupid, they were confronted with the truth of their offense, they would change how they perceive us. I, for one, am not opposed to asking “would you have said that if I were a woman?” to a man who has asked me not to hit-on him; or, “should I clear my conversations through you?” to the woman who asks that I not speak of my relations with men.
In the spirit of keeping a level playing field, the very least we could do is to repeat what is said to us verbatim to show just how ridiculous it sounds.

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.
Here is just one example of the contrast between truth and the rationalization of a “justifiable” lie in police work:
Jimmy Blow is a career criminal. Detective Slob is a good detective and has arrested Blow several time in the past year. Each time he has arrested Blow, Det. Slob has read Blow his Miranda Rights… “You have the right to remain silent” etc… On his last occasion to arrest Blow however, Slob was in a hurry and knew that Blow knew his rights so he didn’t bother. He tossed Blow in the can on a minor offense and didn’t question him so “why bother”?
The next day, Detective Slob was enjoying his regular day off when Detective Pain came into the jail to find the prisoner he was intending to question, Blow’s cellmate, hanging from the cell bars with a torn bed sheet around his neck. Blow appeared to be asleep on the floor. Detective Pain called for the jail guards and roused Blow, asking him what had happened.
Blow initially feigned innocence. Det. Pain quickly surveyed the scene and determined from the way the knot was tied that the deceased could not possible have hung himself. He confronted Blow with his evidence and Blow confessed to having suffocated his roomy for snoring. When Sgt. Flat asked Det. Pain if he had read Mr. Blow his rights before questioning him about a felony crime, which he was suspected of committing, and while he was in custody, what should Det. Pain say? Should he tell the truth? That he was in a stressful situation and simply forgot?
In this case it falls to Det. Slob who should have read Blow his rights upon arrest. Then when the subsequent questioning came, it could be argued that he had been advised of his rights and stated that he understood within a day of being questioned. So, should Det. Slob lie to make sure this killer doesn’t “get off on a technicality”?
Possible scenarios? Both officers get away with lying and the killer gets convicted based on that lie. In the killer’s mind however, he was convicted based on a lie. Who cares right? But what happens when he gets out on parole? What will a police officer’s life be worth to him then? Will he get his conviction overturned on appeal when one or both of the officers who lied on the witness stand are found out. What happens to the detectives’ credibility if they don’t convince the jury of this one little lie? Will the jury suspect everything else they say refuse to convict?
But if Det. Pain was a person in the habit of telling the truth, then he does so as a matter of course. They can simply deal with it at the time; take the prisoner aside and question him again immediately after having advised him of his Miranda Rights. If you lose the confession, then you do the best with what you do have; but right is right and wrong leads to real ugly!
In the end, I know that some, nay most, people will never be convinced that it is best to ALWAYS be truthful. I challenge you however to try this. Just try to practice in little ways, being more truthful in every instance you can and see if it doesn’t begin to make your life easier.

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.
My then wife had threatened to out me to my job and I decided that the only way to disarm her was to out myself. I kicked the closet door open with guns blazing and was certain that in this new millennia there must by now certainly be some support of some kind out their and I was going to find it!
Psyche! Not only did I find that there was still no such thing in Cleveland but the attempt at getting a statewide GOAL (Gay Officers Action League) office in Columbus had gone bust some years before. I heard rumors that there was something in Cincinnati but a lot of good that would do me huh?
Shortly after busting out, I began to discover why it simply “wasn’t done.” Even though I had attained the considerably high rank of Lieutenant, I was involuntarily transferred to the city’s most notoriously “tough” district; an overtly punitive action on the city’s part but not one that I was protected from in the labor contract. My good reputation as a hard hitting, fearless, straight (pardon the pun) shooting, cop and fair supervisor was quickly forgotten, as I became the punch line to every gay joke as the infamous gay lieutenant.
In time, I rebuilt my reputation amongst those with whom I worked directly winning their trust and admiration. The “Fighting Fourth District” became a proud new home for me and what was intended as a punishment grew to become a blessing. Slowly, one by one, lesbians and gay men would come to trust me not to out them and we became friends. The two who were willing to be openly out of the closet at work, one a gay man and one a lesbian, worked with me to found the OLGPA. The first year, we worked hard. We held regular meetings, staffed a booth at the Pride Festival, put up a web site and conducted telephone campaigns.
Many people submitted their names requesting information. We printed fliers and brochures and sent them out. Many people offered to volunteer at first but few showed up. And over time few became fewer. We organized a picnic and notified every member of the then thirty strong. Four members showed up. There seemed to be a fear that attendance at an actual OLGPA function would somehow get around and the members would be outed.
I can sympathize. I can also say that I’m doing fine. So are the other two members of my department. There are many more who are gay and we are available to any who need our support, out or not. My personal opinion is that I feel better about my self since coming out. The pro has outweighed the con. I would rather be true to myself and deal with life as it is; knowing that I’ve got the marbles than to take a vow to “protect and serve” but to live in fear.
So… What is OLGPA today? It’s three close friends who keep our telephone, website, and superhero capes at the ready should the other gay police in Ohio ever need us (and be willing to help themselves). In the meantime, there’s plenty of others who need our attention. Groups like HRC, Equality Ohio, and dare a cop speak it?…. Yes… the ACLU!