Saying Goodbye To Valor

Editor’s Note: In June, we published “America, We Are Leaving.” While it resonated with millions, it caught the attention of some that did not believe it was accurate. In the weeks that have followed, we have received stories just like the one you will read below.

I helped load a Uhaul for a hero this morning.

A man who served 16 years with the Durango Police Department. A lifelong resident of this town. And I am left with a heavy heart.

It is a shameful parting, born of a true outrage. A genuine travesty. A disgraceful miscarriage of justice.

But this miscarriage of justice was not cooked up by a media bereft of virtue, or some half-baked social justice organization founded in hatred and dishonesty, nor a political party lost in madness over an evil orange man.

No.

This was no faux outrage, designed to divide and demonize and demoralize.

This…was a real outrage.

No celebrities will cry crocodile tears over this outrage, no sports gazillionaires will preach their indignation. No riots will ensue. No innocent people will be beaten or murdered by mob violence. No family-owned small businesses will burn, no innocent people who dare to defend themselves and their property will be dragged before a marxist kangaroo court.

No American flags will be desecrated or disrespected. No antiquities will be destroyed. People who dare to have an opinion contrary to the marxist party line will not be fired from their jobs or terrorized in their homes or threatened with death.

No. This is not that kind of pretend outrage. This is not the kind that has an agenda. This is not the kind of outrage they pretend exists in Academia these days, where ritual indoctrination is sealed with a diploma in propaganda, where students are taught to shout down and silence those who disagree.

No. To help load this Uhaul for this good man today was a real outrage. One that matters. And the shame for it belongs right here. With you. With me. With this community.

For 16 years–holidays, weekends, nightshift–this man put his life on the line to protect us. And what did he get in return? When cops nationwide were viciously and dishonestly demonized for the behavior of the few, too many people took the side of the liars over the truth of the heroes. When cop-killer legislation was rushed through at the state level, local politicians jumped on the bandwagon or remained mute. When calls to defund police were ringing out loud and clear, local politicians and civic leaders and everyday folk were either afraid to speak out on behalf of the heroes, or perhaps they were just silent because they are weak and awful that way.

No matter. Same difference. The heroes who protect us were abandoned by us, in the very moments when it mattered most. Betrayed by those for whom they have bled.

So…this good man had enough. For now anyway. He had enough of the job. Enough of the community.

I asked him if I could write this if I left his name out of it. He agreed, so I asked him to give me a synopsis of why he was leaving the job.

“Every contact we go on with every jerk, they want a part of you. They want to provoke a reaction so they can be a victim. Everybody else wants to scrutinize us. They passed that crap (HR 217)  that put cops lives in danger, made it easier to sue us….”

He pauses then shakes his head and shrugs his shoulders.  “I’ve just had enough,” he says.

When I asked him about why he is leaving Durango, his reaction was substantially more personal. I’ll paraphrase it the best I can. He acknowledged Durango was a great place to grow up and live in for a long time, but his profane description of it now is something you will find in the nearest outhouse.

And he alluded to the fact that it is a community that seems to care more and more about criminals and dirtbags and drifters and less and less about cops and good citizens and business owners. So…he is going elsewhere, a little less enlightened by bullshit.

These are hard things for me to hear about Durango. After all, I grew up here, too. I work here and live here. But I cannot deny the accuracy of his observations. I can only lament the truth of them.

And so. We finished loading the truck. Then I told him I wished him all the best and I shook his hand and said goodbye to valor.

Then I drove home, to my little house, in my little community. A community which is just a little less safe today.

And a lot less worthy.