Pickens County Sheriff's Office, South Carolina
End of Watch Friday, January 1, 1954
Reflections for Deputy Sheriff Russell Snow Masters
Your heroism and service is honored today, the 57th anniversary of your death. Your memory lives and you continue to inspire. Thank you for your service. My cherished son Larry Lasater was a fellow police officer murdered in the line of duty on April 24, 2005 while serving as a Pittsburg, CA police officer.
Time never dimishes respect, not even 200 years.
Rest In Peace
Phyllis Loya
mom of fallen officer Larry Lasater
January 1, 2011
YOU ARE REMEMBERED TODAY AND THANK YOU SIR FOR YOUR SERVICE
VANDENBERGHE
MANCHESTER, NH
December 30, 2007
"The Badge"
He starts his shift each day
To respond to calls unknown.
He drives a marked patrol car.
A police officer he is known.
He's paid by the citizens' taxes
To make it safe on the streets.
But he usually has a second job
'Cause a waitress has his salary beat.
Now he doesn't know a holiday
'Cause he works all year round.
And when Thanksgiving and Christmas finally arrive
At his home he cannot be found.
He's cursed and assaulted often,
The one whos blood runs blue.
He seldom ever gets a thanks,
To some he's just a fool.
His friends are always other cops
'Cause people just don't understand
That underneath his badge and gun,
He's just another man.
He knows there might not be a tomorrow
In this world of drugs and crime.
And he gets so mad at the court system
'Cause the crooks don't get any time.
And each day when he leaves for work,
He prays to God above.
Please bring me home after my shift
So I can see the ones I love.
But tonight he stops a speeding car,
He's alone down this ole' highway.
It's just a little traffic infraction.
He does it everyday.
Well, he walks up to the driver's window,
And his badge is shining bright.
He asked the guy for a driver's license,
When a shot rang through the night.
Yes, the bullet hit its mark,
Striking the officer in the chest.
But the Department's budget didn't buy
Each officer a bullet-proof vest.
So he lay on the ground bleeding.
His blood wasn't blue - His blood was red.
And briefly he thought of his loved ones
'Cause in a moment the officer was dead.
In the news they told the story
Of how this officer had died.
And some who listened cared less,
But those who loved him cried.
Well, they buried him in uniform
With his badge pinned on his chest.
He even had his revolver,
He died doing his best.
Written By:
David L. Bell
Sergeant
Richland County Sheriff's Department
Columbia, South Carolina
Used with Special Permission of the Author
Copyright © 1999 - All Rights Reserved
and may not be duplicated without permission
Investigator David L Bell
Richland County Sheriff's Dept.
July 10, 2007
Rest in peace brother.
January 3, 2005
01-01-04, my brother, may you rest in peace and may God bless you.
CHIEF RONNIE WATFORD-RET.
JEFFERSON POLICE DEPT,S.C.
January 1, 2004
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, I guess I ain't because those of us who carry a badge can't always be a Saint."
I've had to work most Sundays
and at times my talk is 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 got to steep.
And I never passed a cry for help
though at times I shook with fear,
and sometimes, God forgive me, I've wept 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 here, Lord, it needn't be so grand,
I never expected or had too much, but if you don't...I'll understand"
There was a silence all around the throne where the Saints had often trod.
As the policeman waited quietly for the judgment of his God.
"Step forward now, policeman.
You've borne you burdens well.
Come walk a beat on Heaven's streets.
You've done your time in Hell"
G. Houston
South Carolina
September 19, 2003
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