We're Not Down

The police are not demoralized — or running scared.

by Joe Leighthardt

BEEP. All cars stand by. In the 35th District, 6600 North Broad, assist the officer, police by radio, officer down!

The message was broadcast at least four times and sent a chill down my spine. My partner, John Krivulka, and I were escorting members of PennDOT doing a cleanup at a homeless encampment on I-95 at Washington Avenue when the call came. We've been partners long enough that we did not need to speak. We just looked at each other and shook our heads "no." This could not be true.

We just spent the whole morning discussing the shooting of Officer Mariano Santiago, thanking the Lord above that he was alive and would be going home to his family. No way this was happening again only 12 hours later. It was, and it was so much worse. A"check later"on our vehicle's computer showed that it was an officer shot in the head. Police Officer Chuck Cassidy, Badge No. 2342, would succumb to his wounds the following day. Time froze. We both texted our loved ones a message we've been sending all too often: "Cop shot. Not me."

Police cars from all over the city were enroute to 6600 North Broad. After every available police car in Central Division put themselves into the "officer down" call, there was silence on our air. It was eerie. That time of day, Central is loud and busy. When time froze, so did the airwaves. Our impulses sent us running to the car to join the manhunt, but reality took over. We were responsible for the safety of the PennDOT crew. Leaving them was not an option. We debated it and rationalized it between us, but we knew we had to stay with them. We felt helpless. Our sergeant would later tell us that he knew where our hearts were, and that we did the right thing. He made it crystal clear when he said, "We still have a job to do." Truer words were never spoken.

In the days following the murder of Chuck Cassidy, there was an outpouring of support like the Philadelphia police has probably never seen. Black, white, young, old. I cannot tell you how many times we were stopped by people who were offering condolences, support or just wanted to say "thank you." One woman stopped me in the middle of JFK Boulevard and just rubbed my arm. Tears were welling up as she walked away.

In the days following Chuck's murder, a call for support of the men and women of the Philadelphia Police Department resonated throughout the city. The shooting of two narcotics officers in the days following made the call louder. Six cops shot in two months. One fatally. The media painted us a being under seige — an image that would put fear into any taxpayer who relies on the police to protect them. Whenthe protectors of the weak are vulnerable, where do we turn?

This pissed us off. I am proud to say that the common emotion among most officers I've talked to since we came "under seige" is anger. Not so much because we have been targeted, but more so because if a gunman is willing to risk shooting an armed, combat-trained officer, what chance does Joe Public have? None.

This is unacceptable to us. Love us or hate us, our job is to protect you, or at least make you feel protected. Due to recent events, that feeling may be waning. Please don't let it.

We are all in this together as Philadelphians. You, the taxpayers need to know that your Police Department is not running scared. We are not circling the wagons and protecting our own. These shootings of your police have just made our resolve that much stronger.

If it means sacrificing six more cops, then that's the price we'll pay to keep you safe. The thugs can stretch the thin blue line, but they'll never break it. We still have a job to do.

Joe Leighthardt is a Philadelphia police officer in the Central Division.