Amy was a police officer in Baltimore County. Amy went to work wanting to make a difference. Amy put her uniform on everyday, never second guessed it and left her family behind. She drove her police car, listened to her radio and took every call. She saw things that no human should have to. She stood proud and loved what she did. Amy never thought that her life would end.
Amy was a human. A human that deserved to live.
She has a family, a husband, a home. She had a world outside of the Kevlar, outside of the glock, outside of the badge. She had dinner plans, weekend plans and vacation ideas. She had dreams and aspirations, AND A RIGHT TO GO HOME.
I didn't know Amy. But I know many like her.
My husband has been a deputy for 17 years. I couldn't tell you how many calls he's responded to just like Amy's last. How many times he's approached a stranger to protect the public. How many times he's put his life on the line. How many times our friends have done that. Honestly, I don't even want to think about it.
But I can tell you a few other things. I can tell you what Velcro sounds like. The thump of work boots, a glock going into a holster, a badge hitting the kitchen table, what an impala sounds like coming down my court at 2am, and bullets in the dryer. (Yes, that does happen) And I can tell you the relief that some of these sounds cause. Why relief? Because I know he's home.
We shouldn't share the people that did this to her. We need to share her. Celebrate her. Remember her.