Medal of Honor Convention

This week the big city has the honor of hosting the Medal of Honor Convention.

The Medal of Honor is the nation's highest military award. To receive this medal, an individual must perform an act of personal bravery or self sacrifice, involving the risk of life, above and beyond the call of duty while engaged in a combat action.

There are currently only 95 living recipients of this award that, as written by Peter Collier, is earned only through acts of incredible bravery "at the intersection of happenstance and hell."

Today the big city copper had the honor of leading the motorcade escorting these living legends to the ceremonies being held in their honor.

The lead car, motorcycles, flanking cars, and tail cars surrounded the buses. They lit up the street but, with silent decorum, escorted them with full honors precision.

The fire department formed an archway with snorkels and ladders at the entrance to the park that the motorcade passed through. The escort halted at the Police Gold Star Memorial Park.

The path to the site of the Police Memorial Wall was lined with police officers on foot and on horseback. The Medal of Honor heroes, honored the police heroes by holding a ceremony at the memorial that lists the city's fallen officers.

The procession of old warriors continued on foot (some in wheelchairs) to a luncheon and more ceremonies inside the facility.

Following the finale, the men graciously signed books and chatted with all who approached them.

What a day! The air was rippling with patriotism. There were dozens of flags, there were even more soldiers, sailors, marines, and airmen all proudly displaying rows of ribbons on their uniforms. Each ribbon depicting an act of their own personal valor.

Every soldier, currently serving, or aging veteran, stood in awe of these simple men. Humble men who, through extraordinary acts of courage and sacrifice, earned the right to wear that star spangled blue ribbon and star around their necks.

Escorting these men was an honor.

Escorting the President

It is five thirty a.m. I stop at the Starbuck's for a cup of joe. The counter guy cheerfully gives me my plain coffee says "it's on me" then thanks me for the dollar I throw in his tip jar. There's already a line behind me. It's a popular place. I recognize a guy in line. He nods in acknowledgement, then orders his latte.
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We both are in a hurry. The cars we are driving have to be swept for explosives before we report to the compound.
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I'm assigned to the unit that has been escorting the presidential candidate and his secret service detail for weeks. The home town favorite has won the election. He is now the real deal! The President of the United States (elect) lives in the big city. His code name is "Renegade."
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The escort duty has taken on a level of real importance. The squad of agents guarding him and his family has grown. However, they are still escorted by the big city copper and his crew.
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The motorcade is assembled and waiting. Today, I have the honor of leading the parade. A knot forms in my stomach as the word comes over the radio. "Renegade's coming out" I ease into the street followed by a heavily armed armada of vehicles. "Light em up," says the agent riding shotgun in my car. I turn on the lights, all of them, wig wags, brights, flashers, and strobes. I glance in the mirror. every vehicle is lit up like a Christmas tree. It is an impressive sight.
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The officers assigned along the route are alerted. I see streets, intersections, and highway ramps being blocked as we approach. The agent calls out every move the motorcade must make.
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I call out potential problems as I spot them. The tail cars respond and move ahead to cover any trouble identified. The motorcade moves as one. No one gets inside the bubble of protection we have provided.
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I am barely aware of the people waving and cheering from the sidewalks as we approach our destination. I drive past the entrance so "POTUS" can exit right at the door, but close enough for the agents to deploy from my car to cover their assignments. When signaled, I pull away from curb to re stage the car for the return leg of the movement.
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It was an intense ride.
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We spent the next few weeks providing escorts for the President, the First Lady, and the kids. (we took them to school) In January, the first family moved to Washington D.C.
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Escorting the President of the United States was an honor. I hope to do it again.
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Being a big city copper is a beautiful thing.