Ode to the blue

It was a little more than a decade ago, in a place far from here, when the writer who thought he knew a whole lot about the work cops do got taught a lesson.

In Monterey, Calif., on patrol with a cop named Ryan Pontecorvo, this was. A routine ride-along, to kind of get to know how this particular police department did its job, where there was no glare of publicity because of a bad shoot or corruption or some other incident. It’s something you do if you write about cops.

Ryan was a rookie then, and what he did – because the cops in Monterey did a lot of it – was car stops.

I can’t remember how many times that night the lights on top of the black-and-white would flash and the siren would whoop, and I would be sitting there in the passenger seat while watching Ryan exit the vehicle and carefully approach, right hand at the ready, because with a car stop you just never know what you’ll encounter. The guy or gal in the car could be running from the law, could have robbed a bank or could be plumb crazy. You just don’t know.

Each of the car stops was routine, ending in a warning or a ticket and always a goodnight.

Something I noticed during these car stops was that whenever Ryan approached the car on foot, that right hand would swing away from his holster and onto the car’s trunk. He would place his hand on it, as if it was some sacred relic, and then go on to the business at hand.

I asked him later why he did that, why the hand on the trunk of each car. A good luck charm, I thought.

But I was wrong.

“It’s so if something happens to me my hand print will be on the vehicle,” Ryan said in a matter-of-fact manner, not realizing the effect these words had on me.

Each and every single time that he made a car stop that night, Ryan Pontecorvo was reminded of his mortality, and how that relates to the profession he chose.

Statistically, other jobs are more dangerous than that of a law enforcement officer. Commercial fishing is one that comes to mind, which is why prayers for fishermen are even more needed.

With cops, each and every time an officer takes routine actions – and put the pulling over of cars or responding to a house for a domestic dispute high on that list – he or she has been placed clearly at risk. Few of us are thus reminded of our mentality so many times in a given day, week, month or year and this is why the men and women in blue deserve the extra respect, deserve the understanding from all of us that they are special, that we acknowledge what they do day in and day out.

All of this was brought home tragically this past weekend when in St. Mary Parish, Sgt. Rick Riggenbach, a 15-year veteran of the Chitimacha tribal police, was shot and killed. Two St. Mary deputies, Matthew Strickland and Jason Javier, both with long careers and lives ahead of them, were wounded in the same incident.

Riggenbach was responding to a report that a guy with a gun was walking down a road near the Cypress Bayou casino.

His name was Wilbert Thibodeaux and he got a shot off at the tribal cop, which was fatal. Then when the deputies arrived in their car he fired “multiple shots.” Thibodeaux was wounded by gunfire and he will now answer for this.

What must be remembered most of all is that the shots that fell one officer and nearly took the lives of two others, however this shakes out in the legal system, might have been fired at any of us. Because the ones who took the hits were there in our name. Because they get paid to do this and know the risks. Because they do the job anyway.

It has become fashionable in this nation, which has been warring overseas for many years now, to thank soldiers, sailors, marines and airmen when we run into them in uniform, for keeping us safe.

Well, those men and women in blue, as the incident Saturday evinces and as so many other tragedies have showed through the years, they are keeping us safe right here.

So I need to remember that “thank you” I rarely say. I need to remember how much they do.

And I need to remember that the need for the hand on the car a cop told me about years ago, unfortunately, is as true today as it was back then. Which means they all need a mention in our prayers as well.