ON PATROL WITH OFFICER DANNO – EPISODE 2 – “MISS LILLY” (RATED: KLEENEX REQUIRED)

NOTE FROM WRITER LORI COOPER at www.www.WriterLoriCooper.com:

Officer Danno is a retired Law Enforcement Officer with the Columbus, Ohio Division of Police. He has agreed to become a regular contributor to this blog, particularly where his stories of his time spent on the streets protecting and serving the citizens of our city are filled with kindness, the gut-punching reality of what it’s like to be a Law Enforcement Officer, and to see so many heinous things an Officer can never “unsee” throughout his or her career. It is a story where racial divisiveness was not a part of the norm during his ‘Watch.’

On the contrary, this blog article is about a white Police Officer’s encounter with a widowed, elderly black woman with whom he came into contact during a crime inflicted against her. 

It will reveal how much unity exists within the community of Policing where racial indifferences were not, and have not been, an issue for good, solid, hardworking men and women who wore the Badge proudly, and, in this case, where the heart of an Officer with compassion for those he protected in his precinct meant everything to him – where he saw the people who lived among his precinct not based on anything other than the individuals he took an oath to serve. 

They weren’t white people or black people or brown people. They were ‘his people’, and as he will share with you himself when I interview him soon, that aside from his family, he loved being a “Policeman” more than anything in this world. It was always his honor and privilege to ensure that both the safety and wellbeing of all citizens under his ‘Watch’ were being met.

This is the magnificent tale of Officer Danno and Miss Lilly, how they met, how much he protected her every single day of her life thereafter, and how a white Police Officer and an elderly black woman became every bit of members of each other’s family, as if they’d known each other an entire lifetime, and as though they had been related by blood. Each was colorless to the other, but both were and are angels in their own right.

In this country, which has now taken on an ‘us versus them’ mentality between the Law Enforcement Community and our neighborhoods of Black Americans nationwide, some who feel the majority of our white Police Officers are racist, hate mongers, please let this relationship between a white Police Officer and a wonderful black woman be the example of what we want in every neighborhood across America - unity in every community.

It is my hope and dream that a story of a white “Policeman,” and a sweet, endearing black lady, will demonstrate how we can all unite to make our country a better, safer place, regardless of race, ethnicity, religious origin, socioeconomic class, gender, or anything which seemingly makes any of us different from one another. It is an honor that Officer Danno chose this story to share with us on this blog, especially now, when our country is experiencing violence, and during a time when racial tensions are at an all-time high.

On this Father’s Day weekend, we’re grateful to you, our reader, for also making a difference in your communities under COVID-19 restrictions, and for adapting while still imparting your own passions, volunteering to help in ways which also reflect the compassion of the human spirit.

Together, we can be a ‘force’ of our own to help rebuild our communities and eliminate biases against each other and our Police. Thank you for reading this beautiful story.

Connecting hearts and minds of Americans as one,

Lori Cooper

Columbus, Ohio

www.WriterLoriCooper.com 

Debut Author of the nonfiction book tentatively titled CODE OF SILENCE, and which will be published in the upcoming months. Please go to www.WriterLoriCooper.com to sign-up for my Newsletter to learn about publishing dates, to read an Excerpt, and for other fun surprises!

"MISS LILLY", BY OFFICER DANNO

This is the story of ‘Miss Lilly’ and me, Officer Danno, and the people I was proud to have served.

Returning home from the first Gulf War, a day-shift assignment awaited me on 12 precinct. I preferred night shift, but my two kids were still young, and I was feeling the heat from ‘the brass’ to move on to quieter pastures - at least for a while.  

The precinct population was primarily black, and was mostly poor and overrun with gangs and drugs. The hard-working, nose-to-the-grindstone, play-by-the-rules-citizens in that area were under siege by a violent criminal element, who generally came out of the woodwork at night. Working days, the lion’s share of my duties consisted of taking report after report of crimes which had taken place the night before. One of those reports brought an elderly black woman into my life who I came to love like my own grandmother.  

Dispatched to her home to take a burglary report from the night before, I met this woman, an 80-something year old widow who lived alone in a big, well-kept home on a residential street named Bulen Avenue. Her husband, a postal carrier, had died years before his time. She had been a retired nurse.  

She was short and frail, and when she met me at the front door, I could see that she was visibly shaking and had tears in her eyes. Some dirtbag had forced his way through the back door to her home and had rummaged through her belongings, as she slept upstairs. Apparently, the burglar had come upstairs, undetected, as he had left her bedroom door wide open. The thought of having neither heard nor having been awakened as this scumbag gazed upon her, sleeping peacefully in her own bed, terrified her beyond description.  

As I entered the residence, she grasped my free hand with a death grip, and led me to her kitchen table. I probably whipped out the report within five minutes or so, and usually it was time to go on to the next run, or continue to patrol my district. However, I found my heart breaking into a million pieces as this poor woman fought back the tears, brought on by the terror of being so violated. 

I sat for quite some time and conversed with her, giving what advice I could regarding better locks and lighting around her home. It was then that I made it my mission to look after her - to do whatever it took to protect and comfort her from that point on.  I made good on a promise to check in on her as often as possible, usually at least once every day of the work week. I also passed on her information to several 2nd and 3rd shift officers, asking that they pay special attention to her and her residence.  

Over time, she and I became more than friends. We were now family. She would always make my day when she’d tell me that I was the son she never had. I often fought back tears just at the mere sight of her being so frail, afraid, and forced to live alone. 

Many days in the summer, I would find her working out in her vegetable garden and would happily lend a hand. I gave her my home number, and she would call me occasionally. At the time, I was now divorced, so she and I both lived alone. Her voice over the phone was just as comforting to me as mine was to her. Her name was Lilly Shefton. She preferred people calling her 'Miss Lilly'.

Working tons of special duty, I was often times  dead on my feet. Most jobs didn't start until several hours after I went off duty. I would have to wait around and would find myself in dire need of a nap before going on to the job. 

One afternoon, after getting off duty, I stopped by Miss Lilly’s house to kill some time and engage in one of our usual conversations. She apparently sensed that I was on the verge of exhaustion and demanded that I sprawl out on her living room couch and get some rest. "Honey, now what time do you need to get up for special duty?" I told her, then fell into a deep sleep on the couch.  

About two hours later, she gently shook my arm. In her frail, crackled voice, she said: "Danny, it’s time to wake up, honey. You been snorin’ up a storm," and then let out one of her heartwarming chuckles. As I sat up on the couch, I found that she had covered me up with a blanket. 

I could also smell fried chicken. "Baby, now I cooked you up some chicken wings and heated up some collard greens. You need to eat something, before you shrivel up to nothing." 

There was a ritual which had begun almost instantly when I met Miss Lilly. Before walking out her door, she would always say, "You be careful out there, baby. I don't want anything happening to you." And she’d send me off, always, with this sentiment: "I love you, Danny."

Earning another person's unconditional love and trust is the best feeling you can ever experience. I'm proud to have been born and destined to become a protector, and so grateful to God for bringing Miss Lilly into my life.  

Miss Lilly went to a much better world years ago, and I miss her love and comforting presence always. As I write this, I can’t stop myself from crying. 

I love you, Miss Lilly Shefton. Rest in glorious peace, sweet lady.—Officer Danno