Family, Friends & Fellow Officers Remember...

I remember well the day they came and separated us three boys when my father was in a wreck on bragg blvd.
Bobby was 14, Wayne (me) 9 , and Woody jr was 5
I remember the sound of the 1948 Harley Davison he was killed on in 1951 Never forget love you dad
Dec 13 2017

Rubin Wayne McLaurin
Middle Son age 75

December 13, 2017

From the stories of my dad I know you was a hell of a man I am proud to be your grandson and the boot black jack I have with x and o"s crossed in it like tick tack toe you rack heads rest in peace granddaddy I love you!

Grandson Ryan McLaurin
Mclaurins

July 30, 2015

James Woodard Mclaurin Sr. was my Grandfather. My father is James Woodard Mclaurin Jr and he has told me great story's about my grandfather that i never got to meet and so i feel that in some way i know him. I have carried these stories over to my son. I know one day i will meet him with our father in heaven. Grandad you are gone but not forgotten.
Love Steven

Steven Mclaurin
Grand-Son

March 2, 2012

ITS SOUNDS LIKE THUNDER FAR AWAY...

It sounds like thunder far away, but the skies are blue and bright...
And soon they crest the hill nearby, and ride into our sight.
They shake the ground with powerful sound, and they make some hearts beat fast...
They look so proud and noble, like Knights come from the past.

Side by side, they always ride, and seem to move as one...
From early in the morning light, to the setting of the sun.
And children point and wave to them, from cars that pass them by...
And young ones ask their parents, why the men have mirrors for eyes.

They ride the roads, and fight for good, and defend small ones like you...
They ask to ride, and do with pride, and sometimes they are few.
Like men of steel, on Silver Wings, they sparkle in the light...
then with a roar and rumble, they ride out of our sight.

Sometimes when one has fallen, never to ride again...
You can hear the others calling, like thunder on the wind.
Side by side, they slowly ride, and their thunder is a mournful sound...
And the mirrors hide their eyes from us, when teardrops fall to ground.

So if you see one riding, and you look into his face...
You see your reflection in his eyes, you know that you are safe.
For motormen are a special breed, they love to ride the wind...
And when you hear the thunder boom, the fallen ones ride again.

By

Author Unknown

Rest in Peace, Brother…

Motor officer Terry Pauley
Plano PD Plano, TX

March 2, 2010

Your heroism and service is honored today, the 58th anniversary of your death. Your memory lives and you continue to inspire. Thank you for your service to the native state of myself and my cherished son Larry Lasater who was murdered in the line of duty on April 24, 2005 while serving as a Pittsburg, CA police officer.

Rest In Peace.

Phyllis Loya

Phyllis Loya
mother of fallen officer Larry Lasater

March 2, 2009

Rest in Peace Motorman. You are not forgotten.

Motor Officer Danny Johnson
Metro Nashville Police Dept.

March 2, 2007

Rest in peace my fellow brother. I never knew you but we were cousins--I'm proud to serve the Fayetteville Police Department as you once did.
Not a shift goes by that I don't patrol the very street that you gave your life on, and not a shift goes by that I forget your service to the citizens of Fayetteville, North Carolina.

Officer D.W. West
Fayetteville, NC Police Department

October 27, 2005

Let no officer go without reflection.
I am honored to be the first to remember your service to the citizens of Fayetteville.
Know that we continue on in your memory.

March 2, 2005