CARLTON FLETCHER: In honor of the men and women in blue

“Ma, take this badge off of me, I can’t use it anymore.”

— Bob Dylan

I was caught off guard by the reaction, maybe even astonished a little.

This man I’d known for a large portion of my adult life, a man who is the picture of masculinity and bravery, was diminished before my eyes, his own eyes welling with tears that he tried unsuccessfully to hide.

All because of a question I’d posed.

The gibberish about defunding the police and blaming law enforcement officers for all of this country’s ills because of the cruel and inhuman actions of a few of the perverted wearers of blue has pretty much died down except in militant circles. My long-time friend, who is a career law enforcement officer, having worn a badge since completing a period of armed forces service, is one of those people who truly serves his community. He loves kids, and I know from frequent conversations with him that he feels the worst part of his job is having to deal with young people who break the law.

“Kids are born good,” he’s often told me. “It’s society and lousy parents who mess them up. If I had my way, instead of arresting kids who commit crimes, I’d arrest their parents and put the kids in a home where they’ll learn what it is to be cared for. People think they know how bad it is for poor kids, but until they’ve been inside their homes and seen how they have to live, they just have no idea.”

I hadn’t seen my friend in a while, given the turn that the world has taken, but when we caught up recently, I was asking about his work. I know from past experiences that he loves his job and loves telling some of the stories that go with it. (He’s sworn me to secrecy so many times I’ve told him to skip the “off the record” preamble, agreeing instead to discuss with him in advance anything that I might be interested in writing about. We have our own gentlemen’s agreement.)

As our conversation wound down — we belly-laughed as he told me several hilarious stories, including one about a “scumbag” he caught pushing a getaway car on a dark, country road, the driver having given out of gas after committing a petty theft — I asked my friend what I thought was a pertinent question, given the current times.

I asked, “What’s your take on the anti-police rhetoric that’s going on now?”

Little did I know my question would move him to the verge of tears. He stared straight ahead for a long time, and I stood there in embarrassed silence, bewildered that my seemingly harmless question had affected him in such a way.

Finally, he spoke, in a voice that was at first emotionless.

“I’ve always tried to understand people’s mistrust of law enforcement,” he said. “I learned shortly after I joined the force that even people who did wrong and knew they were doing wrong — even the bad people — felt everything that had gone wrong in their lives was because of police. Now, don’t get me wrong, there are some really bad police on just about every force. But most I’ve ever worked with see this job as a calling. They do it for the right reasons.

“But since this defund the police stuff, since all that senseless violence by people who were police officers for the wrong reasons, people’s reaction to me has changed. I’m eyed suspiciously any time I walk into a place where there are citizens. And I feel like I did when I was a young man and store owners would follow me around just because of my skin color. I get that kind of feeling now, feel the hatred people direct at me just because I’m wearing a uniform.”

I didn’t say anything, figuring there was more to the story. I was right.

“The other day, man, I went to visit some friends, a little get-together, and there were all kinds of kids running around,” he said. “I took some clothes with me because I was going straight to their house from work. When I walked into the room where all the kids were playing, this little girl, she couldn’t have been more than 3, let out a shriek. She ran to her dad, wrapped her arms around his legs and cried, ‘Don’t let the police get me!’ in her little voice. She was inconsolable, man.”

Knowing this man and how much he loves children, I understood the pain he was carrying around. We said nothing for a long while. Finally, he spoke again.

“Man, I’ve been shot at three or four times in my career; I’ve seen former brother officers leave the profession for better-paying jobs and do very well for themselves,” he said. “None of that mattered to me. I was proud to wear the blue and protect my community. But that little girl, man, she’s got me to thinking about hanging up my gun and badge.”

I offered some meaningless platitude — I’m horrible in such situations — and we parted ways. I don’t know if this good man will actually give up on law enforcement; I’ve always thought he was born to it. But it reaffirmed something I’ve long felt: The men and women who are part of the law enforcement fraternity — not the creeps who like and abuse the authority the badge gives them but what Bunk Moreland on “The Wire” called the “real po-lice” — are some of the bravest and best our country has to offer. And, as we seem to forget at times, they’re people just like you and me.

Instead of cursing them when one of them gives us a ticket when we were obviously in the wrong, maybe we should instead thank them for their service. Even if we don’t, when the time comes that we need them, bet your bottom dollar they’ll be there to protect us … even if we don’t deserve it.