Family, Friends & Fellow Officers Remember...

Chief of Police John Ferdinand Bockman

Libby Police Department, Montana

End of Watch Monday, April 28, 1924

Leave a Reflection

Reflections for Chief of Police John Ferdinand Bockman

Warrior and Hero!!!

Inspector

March 31, 2012

On the 86th anniversary of Chief Bockman's death, we honored his service in our patrol briefing by reading his entry from ODMP. Each day, we honor one fallen officer on the anniversary of their death so as to keep them in our thoughts, and also to remind us of the dangers inherent in our job. Chief Bockman is not forgotten.

Sergeant Zach Perron
Palo Alto (CA) Police Department

April 29, 2010

YOU ARE REMEMBERED TODAY AND THANK YOU SIR FOR YOUR POLICE AND MILITARY SERVICE

VANDENBERGHE
MANCHESTER, NH

April 29, 2008

Chief Bockman,
On today, the 88th anniversary of your murder, I would just like to say thank you for your service and sacrifice-not just for your community, but also for our Country when you served during WW I.

R.I.P.
Anonymous

Anonymous

April 28, 2008

When God Made Police Officers . . .

When the Lord was creating Police Officers, He was into his sixth day of overtime when an angel appeared and said,
"You're doing a lot of fiddling around on this one."

And the Lord said, "Have you read the requirements on this
order? A Police Officer has to be able to run five miles through alleys in the dark, scale walls, enter homes the health inspector wouldn't touch, and not wrinkle their uniform."

"They have to be able to sit in an undercover car all day on a stakeout, cover a homicide scene that night, canvass the neighborhood for witnesses, and testify in court the next day."

"They have to be in top physical condition at all times,
running on black coffee and half-eaten meals, and they have to have six pairs of hands."

The angel shook her head slowly and said, "Six pairs of hands . . . no way!!"

"It's not the hands that are causing me problems," said the Lord, "it's the three pairs of eyes an officer has to have."

"That's on the standard model?" asked the angel.

The Lord nodded. "One pair that sees through a bulge in a pocket before they ask, 'May I see what's in there, sir?'"
(when they already know and wish they'd taken that accounting job) "Another pair here in the side of their head for their partner's safety, and another pair of eyes here in front so they can look reassuringly at a bleeding victim and say, 'You'll be alright, ma'am,' when they know it isn't so."

"Lord," said the angel, touching His sleeve, "rest and work on this tomorrow."

"I can't," said the Lord, "I already have a model that can talk a 250 pound drunk into a patrol car without incident and feed a family of five on a civil service paycheck."

The angel circled the model of the Police Officer very slowly. "Can it think?" she asked.

"You bet," said the Lord, "it can tell you the elements of a hundred crimes, recite Miranda warnings in its sleep, detain, investigate, search, and arrest a gang member on the street in less time than it takes five learned judges to debate the legality of the stop . . . and still it keeps its sense of humor. This officer also has phenomenal personal control. They can deal with crime scenes painted in hell, coax a confession from a child abuser, comfort a murder victim's family, and then read in the daily paper how law enforcement isn't sensitive to the rights of criminal suspects."

Finally, the angel bent over and ran her finger across the cheek of the Police Officer. "There's a leak," she pronounced, "I told you that you were trying to put too much into this model."

"That's not a leak," said the Lord. "It's a tear."

"What's the tear for?" asked the angel.

"It's for bottled-up emotions, for fallen comrades, for commitment to that funny piece of cloth called the American flag, for justice."

"You're a genius," said the angel.

The Lord looked somber. "I didn't put it there," He said.

Anonymous

December 17, 2003

Godspeed my brother,

THE POLICEMAN'S LAST ROLL CALL ...

THE POLICEMAN STOOD AND FACED HIS GOD, WHICH MUST ALWAYS COME TO PASS. HE
HOPED HIS SHOES WERE SHINING, JUST AS BRIGHTLY AS HIS BRASS. "STEP FORWARD
NOW, POLICEMAN. HOW SHALL I DEAL WITH YOU? HAVE YOU ALWAYS TURNED THE OTHER
CHEEK? TO MY CHURCH HAVE YOU BEEN TRUE?"

THE POLICEMAN SQUARED his shoulders and said, "No, Lord, I guess I ain't.
Because those of us who carry badges can't always be a Saint. I've had to
work most Sundays, and at times my talk was rough, and sometimes I've been
violent because the streets are awfully tough. But I never took a penny that
wasn't mine to keep, though I worked a lot of overtime when the bills just
got to steep. And I never passed a cry for help, though times I shook with
fear. And sometimes, God forgive me, I've wept many unmanly tears. I know I
don't deserve a place among the people here, they never wanted me around
except to calm their fear. If you've a place for me Lord, it needn't be so
grand. I never expected or had too much, but if you don't, I'll understand."

There was silence all around the throne where the Saints had often trod. As
the policeman waited quietly, for the judgement of his God. "Step forward
now, policeman, you've borne your burdens well. Come walk a beat on Heaven's
streets, you've done your time in hell."

Author Unknown

Deputy
Dane County Sheriff's Office, WI

October 25, 2003

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