tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-67806242118678314212024-03-19T05:06:21.462-07:00Looking BackJ. Bryan Wassonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08053719892515465613noreply@blogger.comBlogger46125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6780624211867831421.post-69951069097377183812013-05-09T08:38:00.004-07:002013-05-09T08:38:38.883-07:00National Police WeekThis week is National Police Week and in light of the recent events in March 2013 involving the killer of Tom Clements, head of Colorado Prison system, who also shot a Montage County Deputy and fired on dozens of Wise County police personnel and then ultimately was killed in a shoot out in Decatur, Texas- I'd like to say thank you to all law enforcement personnel for taking the oath to Protect & Serve. My Mom (Shirley Wasson), my niece (Delise White who is a Wise County Jailer) & I attended the Taylor County Law Enforcement Memorial Service on May 1st. There have been several years we've attended that we have had some connection to the state roll call. Of course the Abilene officers, Jeff McCoy & Rodney Holder are always close to our hearts, as Daddy was formerly Abilene PD. Then there was Wes Hardy, a Plano Motor Officer who grew up in Wise County; Randy White, a Bridgeport Police officer; and most recently our family friend, David Slayton, a Trooper from Montague County. Thank God that we didn't see the name of James Boyd, Montague County Deputy who was shot on March 21, 2013. I was honored to once again answer roll call for my Grandfather, Deputy Jessie Bryan "Jake" Wasson, Sr. and I count it a privilege to be a part of the law enforcement family.
by Donna Bean
J. Bryan Wassonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08053719892515465613noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6780624211867831421.post-59617781262460905502011-10-08T12:03:00.000-07:002011-10-08T12:04:30.829-07:00Potosi Cemetery, Abilene, TX<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjIe2eoTd-w-VCAMfpekBXM1ALInG-I568D0ffPpBMnBUztcacz5dgp-uwnlEB2yWbZqJGpvdiwKVYJ0gKKYAPyxOKEwpRi7czLC1677zr7-5gb3L4mTvxcPgVhAEztAufsh3bpK0jZKmL8/s1600/Bryan%2527s+Tombstone.jpg"><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 265px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5661199016284087682" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjIe2eoTd-w-VCAMfpekBXM1ALInG-I568D0ffPpBMnBUztcacz5dgp-uwnlEB2yWbZqJGpvdiwKVYJ0gKKYAPyxOKEwpRi7czLC1677zr7-5gb3L4mTvxcPgVhAEztAufsh3bpK0jZKmL8/s400/Bryan%2527s+Tombstone.jpg" /></a><br /><br /><div></div>J. Bryan Wassonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08053719892515465613noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6780624211867831421.post-40209614578070572592011-10-08T11:43:00.000-07:002011-10-08T11:58:45.074-07:00Taking Comfort in a Father's Words by Donna BeanThey say history repeats itself. On July 13, 2011 it did for my mom and I. We found ourselves spending the night in the same 7th floor ICU waiting room of United Regional Hospital in Wichita Falls that we had spent the night in on July 13, 2007. The results were different, as my Dad didn't pull through this time. They say time heals all wounds. Right now, I'm not sure of that. I'm a scrapbooker, but have never considered myself much of a writer. But my Dad was. He wrote police & army reports & manuals, a book about horses back in the 60's, short stories & poems AND he blogged. Right now, I find great comfort in his blogs, all 3 of them! He will live on in the hearts of his family and friends as we continue to read and update them. As one of my friends put it, Dad was an entertainer. He sang, played guitar & told stories. Most of the stories on his blogs seem like tall tales, but all are very true! He lived a colorful life and the blogs prove that. Thanks Daddy for sharing your stories with the world! I love you!<br />To read some of his stories, go to:<br />www.wassonslookingback.blogspot.com, www.bowietexasareamusic.blogspot.com or www.talesapd.blogspot.com<br /><br /><br />Donna Bean<br />Classified Department<br />Wise County Messenger<br /><br />(This was published in the Wise County Messenger newspaper in July 2011.)J. Bryan Wassonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08053719892515465613noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6780624211867831421.post-7006761890286847782011-07-23T14:53:00.002-07:002011-07-23T14:56:51.233-07:00End of Watch 7/14/11<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgJegsW2NsK5vMO1u1E6mVANETIpK-Wz5hyphenhyphen5IvnEBfRjSSrLsS9ItZTaVNJ2lurMpM2JcntIsEkGDwcfG3rXS5_lm2g15mJk1TmoC8tBAHj526qIRK5q5afFrXiCHCn-8GX-1mJf548cWKl/s1600/Bryan.jpg"><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 319px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 400px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5632669931444104690" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgJegsW2NsK5vMO1u1E6mVANETIpK-Wz5hyphenhyphen5IvnEBfRjSSrLsS9ItZTaVNJ2lurMpM2JcntIsEkGDwcfG3rXS5_lm2g15mJk1TmoC8tBAHj526qIRK5q5afFrXiCHCn-8GX-1mJf548cWKl/s400/Bryan.jpg" /></a><br /><br /><div>The family of Jessie Bryan Wasson regrets to inform you of his death on July 14, 2011. We hope to continue his 3 blogs, Wasson's Looking Back, Bowie Texas Area Music, and Tales of the Abilene Police Department. He loved writing his stories and there are many he had not posted. The posts may not come as often, but we hope to honor his memory by posting them to his blog.<br /><br />Please comment on this post if you have additional stories or tales of past events with him.<br /><br />Thank you for your continued support of our family.</div>J. Bryan Wassonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08053719892515465613noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6780624211867831421.post-2389288317485621062011-07-02T12:50:00.000-07:002011-07-02T12:50:29.935-07:00FBC April 10 2011 Footsteps.MP4<iframe height="344" src="http://www.youtube.com/embed/oXsiKbNrX1Q?fs=1" frameborder="0" width="425" allowfullscreen=""></iframe>J. Bryan Wassonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08053719892515465613noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6780624211867831421.post-21297303456655547292011-07-02T12:43:00.000-07:002011-07-02T12:43:34.879-07:00dont overlook salvation fbc 8 8 10<iframe height="344" src="http://www.youtube.com/embed/9QDicPJcU9g?fs=1" frameborder="0" width="425" allowfullscreen=""></iframe>J. Bryan Wassonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08053719892515465613noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6780624211867831421.post-30264766064535264412011-07-02T12:39:00.000-07:002011-07-02T12:39:48.652-07:00Bluegrass Baby Shower Jam Session DSCN1100.MOV<iframe height="344" src="http://www.youtube.com/embed/BQCLDqqJMyA?fs=1" frameborder="0" width="425" allowfullscreen=""></iframe>J. Bryan Wassonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08053719892515465613noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6780624211867831421.post-35288538121544493712011-07-02T12:35:00.000-07:002011-07-02T12:35:04.316-07:00on my fathers side<iframe height="344" src="http://www.youtube.com/embed/0Shp7oDgNXk?fs=1" frameborder="0" width="425" allowfullscreen=""></iframe>J. Bryan Wassonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08053719892515465613noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6780624211867831421.post-9373130919730142272011-07-02T12:33:00.000-07:002011-07-02T12:33:00.913-07:00A Little Spot In Heaven.avi<iframe height="344" src="http://www.youtube.com/embed/05ZxxJ6r7Eg?fs=1" frameborder="0" width="425" allowfullscreen=""></iframe>J. Bryan Wassonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08053719892515465613noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6780624211867831421.post-28444801117386867002011-07-02T10:14:00.000-07:002011-07-02T10:19:38.698-07:00One Nation Under GodThe above following article was written by Faith Duffin, Secretary, first Baptist Church, Bowie Texas for Volume 5, Issue 7, July 2011 issue of *First Focus*, the news letter of First Baptist Church, Bowie, Texas. I think it is worth publishing here. My deepest concern is the fact that our nation has turned away from God. My prayer is that our nation will repent and turn back to God.J. Bryan Wasson, July 2, 2011*One Nation Under God**Bowie, Texas Area Music**First Baptist Church**Bowie, Texas*<br />
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<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS", sans-serif; font-size: xx-small;">Looking Back by J, Bryan Wasson</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS", sans-serif; font-size: xx-small;">One Nation Under God</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS", sans-serif; font-size: xx-small;">Posted by J. Bryan Wasson July 2, 2011</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS", sans-serif; font-size: xx-small;">Bowie, Texas</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS", sans-serif; font-size: xx-small;">First Baptist Church,</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS", sans-serif; font-size: xx-small;">Bowie, Texas</span></div>
J. Bryan Wassonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08053719892515465613noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6780624211867831421.post-31137002344785470192011-04-04T13:49:00.000-07:002011-04-04T13:49:07.382-07:00Tribute to a Military Veteran<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhNoiViCJvJopgdKTZdLQ8yYz02Ucq9lyrSOqx9tg5kqdoHFS_xLkxltDfNPuaPJb8jdkfr24z_Se6d6gRIiRiNvyfVjnigugAm_9MRc017MWZzY-Qt9TOt_YqdAYCSXBRkvA6Qt5QJwalF/s1600/Tribute+to+Cecil+Adkins.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="301" r6="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhNoiViCJvJopgdKTZdLQ8yYz02Ucq9lyrSOqx9tg5kqdoHFS_xLkxltDfNPuaPJb8jdkfr24z_Se6d6gRIiRiNvyfVjnigugAm_9MRc017MWZzY-Qt9TOt_YqdAYCSXBRkvA6Qt5QJwalF/s400/Tribute+to+Cecil+Adkins.jpg" width="400" /></a></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; text-align: justify;"><b style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal;">A tribute to a friend: Cecil Adkins was a WWII U.S. Navy Veteran and later served in the </b><country-region><place><b style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal;">U.S.</b></place></country-region><b style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal;"> Army National Guard where he was called to active duty during the </b><state><place><b style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal;">Berlin</b></place></state><b style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal;"> and Cuban Missal Crisis.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>He is the founder of the VFW Post in </b><place><city><b style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal;">Bowie</b></city><b style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal;">, </b><state><b style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal;">Texas</b></state></place><b style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal;">. At age 60 he was transferred to the Army of the </b><country-region><place><b style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal;">United States</b></place></country-region><b style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal;"> Retired List. Cecil loved the outdoors. Therefore a green grassy field was chosen as a background for this tribute. Many years ago when he had completed placing white crosses on the graves of military veterans, Cecil gave me the white cross that I have placed in the center of this field. Cecil served as District Clerk and as Justice of the Peace in </b><place><placename><b style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal;">Montague</b></placename><b style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal;"> </b><placetype><b style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal;">County</b></placetype></place><b style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal;">. Cecil and I were in the Jim Bowie Riding Club and rode in many parades together. Cecil was a good friend and I will miss him.</b></div><br />
<strong><span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS", sans-serif; font-size: xx-small;">Monday, April 4, 2010, JBW</span></strong><br />
<strong><span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS; font-size: xx-small;">Looking Back by J. Bryan Wasson</span></strong><br />
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<strong><span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS; font-size: xx-small;">Wasson's Looking Back</span></strong><br />
<strong><span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS; font-size: xx-small;">Bowie, Montague County, Texas</span></strong>J. Bryan Wassonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08053719892515465613noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6780624211867831421.post-70414824880196102862011-01-27T21:40:00.000-08:002011-01-27T21:40:03.752-08:00Go Jump In the Lake<div align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: "Arial Black";">Looking Back – Go Jump in the </span><place><span style="font-family: "Arial Black";">Lake</span></place><span style="font-family: "Arial Black";"></span></div><div align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: "Arial Black";">By J. Bryan Wasson</span></div><div align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: "Arial Black"; font-size: 11pt;">In mid size to large Police Departments, the Chief of Police is an administrator, not a street cop. With the exception of a current Television show called, “The District”, the Chief does not personally get involved in the investigation of crimes and/or the arrest of criminals. The Chief leaves these tasks for underlings. </span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: "Arial Black"; font-size: 11pt;">Within our society, we have created a pecking order of the social structure. In most cities, regardless of size, there is nearly always someone high enough up on the food chain, to cause the Chief of Police to take a personal interest in the investigation of a specific crime or to arrest a specific criminal. In </span><place><city><span style="font-family: "Arial Black"; font-size: 11pt;">Abilene</span></city><span style="font-family: "Arial Black"; font-size: 11pt;">, </span><state><span style="font-family: "Arial Black"; font-size: 11pt;">Texas</span></state></place><span style="font-family: "Arial Black"; font-size: 11pt;"> during the 1960s, the publisher of </span><span style="font-family: "Harlow Solid Italic"; font-size: 11pt;">The Abilene Reporter News</span><span style="font-family: "Arial Black"; font-size: 11pt;"> was such a person. He was high enough on the food chain to lay upon the heart of the Chief of Police a desire to take a personal interest in a crime in which the publisher of said newspaper might be the victim.</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: "Arial Black"; font-size: 11pt;">I was the Lieutenant on duty on the day shift. I was in the Shift Commander’s office in the basement of the Police Station where I supervised patrol activities as well as the operation of the jail. The Office of the Chief of Police was on the ground floor. The phone rang and the intercom button lighted up. This indicated the call was coming from within the Police Department. I answered the phone, “Lieutenant Wasson speaking.” The voice on the other end of the line was that of Warren Dodson, the Chief of Police.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Chief Dodson said, “Meet me upstairs as soon as you can get here.”</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: "Arial Black"; font-size: 11pt;">I took the stairs two at a time. I found the Chief standing by the front door. He handed me the keys to a car, the unmarked car assigned to </span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: "Arial Black"; font-size: 11pt;">Chief Dodson. This was unusual as no one drove this car except the Chief. <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I got behind the wheel and Chief Dodson said, “Let’s go to </span><place><placetype><span style="font-family: "Arial Black"; font-size: 11pt;">Fort</span></placetype><span style="font-family: "Arial Black"; font-size: 11pt;"> </span><placename><span style="font-family: "Arial Black"; font-size: 11pt;">Phantom</span></placename></place><span style="font-family: "Arial Black"; font-size: 11pt;"> as fast as we can safely get there.”</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: "Arial Black"; font-size: 11pt;">I must digress for a moment to explain that statement. </span><city><place><span style="font-family: "Arial Black"; font-size: 11pt;">Abilene</span></place></city><span style="font-family: "Arial Black"; font-size: 11pt;"> is the County Seat of Taylor County, Texas. Fort Phantom Hill was located in </span><place><placename><span style="font-family: "Arial Black"; font-size: 11pt;">Jones</span></placename><span style="font-family: "Arial Black"; font-size: 11pt;"> </span><placetype><span style="font-family: "Arial Black"; font-size: 11pt;">County</span></placetype></place><span style="font-family: "Arial Black"; font-size: 11pt;">, the next county north. Fort Phantom Hill was the site of a frontier Fort that had been established as part of a line of forts designed to protect the settlers from Indians. </span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: "Arial Black"; font-size: 11pt;">Fort Phantom Hill had long since been abandoned, but in past times it had been home to United States Cavalry troops, Confederate troops, and Texas Rangers.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>In the 1930’s, I believe it was about 1936 or 37, a lake had been constructed near the old Fort to be the source of water supply for the City of </span><city><place><span style="font-family: "Arial Black"; font-size: 11pt;">Abilene</span></place></city><span style="font-family: "Arial Black"; font-size: 11pt;">. The lake was named Lake Fort Phantom. </span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: "Arial Black"; font-size: 11pt;">Most folks referred to the lake as, </span><place><placetype><span style="font-family: "Arial Black"; font-size: 11pt;">Fort</span></placetype><span style="font-family: "Arial Black"; font-size: 11pt;"> </span><placename><span style="font-family: "Arial Black"; font-size: 11pt;">Phantom</span></placename></place><span style="font-family: "Arial Black"; font-size: 11pt;">, or simply, “the lake.”</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: "Arial Black"; font-size: 11pt;">At the time the lake was being constructed and water lines laid, the City fathers in their infinite wisdom, put all property surrounding the lake into the city limits of </span><city><place><span style="font-family: "Arial Black"; font-size: 11pt;">Abilene</span></place></city><span style="font-family: "Arial Black"; font-size: 11pt;">. This property was connected to </span><city><place><span style="font-family: "Arial Black"; font-size: 11pt;">Abilene</span></place></city><span style="font-family: "Arial Black"; font-size: 11pt;"> by the width of the right of way for the water pipes, which was also placed within the city limits of </span><city><place><span style="font-family: "Arial Black"; font-size: 11pt;">Abilene</span></place></city><span style="font-family: "Arial Black"; font-size: 11pt;">. It should be noted that other towns in </span><state><place><span style="font-family: "Arial Black"; font-size: 11pt;">Texas</span></place></state><span style="font-family: "Arial Black"; font-size: 11pt;"> that own lakes in an adjoining county have done the same thing. The Abilene Police Department had full jurisdiction on all land surrounding the lake. In addition, the Water Department of the City of </span><city><place><span style="font-family: "Arial Black"; font-size: 11pt;">Abilene</span></place></city><span style="font-family: "Arial Black"; font-size: 11pt;"> employed a </span><place><placetype><span style="font-family: "Arial Black"; font-size: 11pt;">Lake</span></placetype><span style="font-family: "Arial Black"; font-size: 11pt;"> </span><placename><span style="font-family: "Arial Black"; font-size: 11pt;">Patrolman</span></placename></place><span style="font-family: "Arial Black"; font-size: 11pt;">. He lived at the lake in a house owned by the City. He had a Patrol boat and a city owned Pickup for patrol on land and with which to move his boat to various launching sites around the lake. He was commissioned both as an Abilene Police Officer and a Jones County Deputy sheriff.</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: "Arial Black"; font-size: 11pt;">The City owned most property around the lake. Lots were leased to people who could construct houses or cabins on the lots. These were long term leases, but the individual did not retain actual ownership of any buildings placed on these lots. Many people lived at the lake. Many others, who lived in town, had Cabins at the lake. One of these lake cabins was “owned” by the publisher of </span><span style="font-family: "Harlow Solid Italic"; font-size: 11pt;">The Abilene Reporter News.</span><span style="font-family: "Arial Black"; font-size: 11pt;"> This cabin was located within a cluster of cabins “owned” by a number of people high upon the food chain of the social structure of </span><place><city><span style="font-family: "Arial Black"; font-size: 11pt;">Abilene</span></city><span style="font-family: "Arial Black"; font-size: 11pt;">, </span><state><span style="font-family: "Arial Black"; font-size: 11pt;">Texas</span></state></place><span style="font-family: "Arial Black"; font-size: 11pt;">.</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: "Arial Black"; font-size: 11pt;">As I drove the Chief’s car toward the lake, the Chief informed me that a burglar had been reported breaking in to this cluster of cabins on the west side of the lake that were “owned” by the social elite of </span><city><place><span style="font-family: "Arial Black"; font-size: 11pt;">Abilene</span></place></city><span style="font-family: "Arial Black"; font-size: 11pt;">.</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: "Arial Black"; font-size: 11pt;">I now understood the Chief’s personal interest in this affair which would normally have been handled at a level lower within the organizational structure of the Abilene Police Department.</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: "Arial Black"; font-size: 11pt;">I must inject at this point that I can not swim and am extremely afraid of water. The proper term for this condition is hydrophobia.</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: "Arial Black"; font-size: 11pt;">As we approached this cluster of cabins, a man was seen emerging from one of the cabins, He saw us and started running toward a mesquite pasture. The Chief had me to stop long enough for him to get out of the car. He said he would peruse the man on foot and for me to pursue the man in the car. I was driving the Chief’s unmarked car through and over mesquite brush and prickly pear cactus as the man ran, ducked and dogged between the brush. The Chief was close behind on foot.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>It was a long chase. I observed that the man was working his way closer and closer to the water.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I am sure that the man was exhausted by this time. When the man reached the water’s edge, he jumped in and started swimming. I had no idea where he thought he was going to swim to because it was a very big lake.</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: "Arial Black"; font-size: 11pt;">I parked the car near the water’s edge and got out. I just stood there watching the swimming man getting farther and farther away.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The Chief arrived and stood next to me. At about that time, the man went under. He came up waiving his arms and screaming, “Help, Help!” The Chief looked at me as if asking, “What are you going to do?” I raised my right hand high over my head and started waving as I said, “by, by.” </span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: "Arial Black"; font-size: 11pt;">Seeing that this was my only response to the drowning man’s problem, the Chief pulled off his shoes, removed his revolver from its holster and put it in a shoe. He then took off his suite jacket and laid it on top of his shoes. He jumped in the lake and swam out and rescued the drowning burglar.</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: "Arial Black"; font-size: 11pt;">Our very wet prisoner was extremely docile during our ride back to </span><city><place><span style="font-family: "Arial Black"; font-size: 11pt;">Abilene</span></place></city><span style="font-family: "Arial Black"; font-size: 11pt;">. I felt sure that the equally extremely wet Chief of Police would have some words for me based upon my actions or lack thereof to the plight of the drowning burglar. To my amazement, the Chief never said a word during the ride back to </span><city><place><span style="font-family: "Arial Black"; font-size: 11pt;">Abilene</span></place></city><span style="font-family: "Arial Black"; font-size: 11pt;"> with our wet prisoner. I was never again asked to drive the Chief’s car.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; text-align: justify;"><br />
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</div>J. Bryan Wassonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08053719892515465613noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6780624211867831421.post-49722483731529652802011-01-27T21:34:00.000-08:002011-01-27T21:34:25.725-08:00The Rocket Launch<div align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: "Arial Black";">Looking Back – The Rocket Launch</span></div><div align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: "Arial Black";">By J. Bryan Wasson</span></div><div align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: "Arial Black"; font-size: 11pt;">To set this story up, I must bring out the fact that I can not swim. In fact I am very much afraid of water. I believe that water is for drinking. If it is not too deep, it is OK for taking a bath. I also believe that there is something seriously wrong with the wiring in folks who ride in boats.</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: "Arial Black"; font-size: 11pt;">Another factor in this story is a deep curiosity that makes cowboys and motorcycle riders always want to know what is just over the next hill or around the next curve in the road. It is a wonderful to ride through unknown territory on horseback or mounted on a motorcycle.</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: "Arial Black"; font-size: 11pt;">Another factor in this story is my strong dislike of land development and the urban sprawl that such development brings about. I strongly believe that mankind is a very poor steward of the land that God created. Long ago, I learned that when you see fences come down that once enclosed agricultural lands adjacent to city limits, you know that bulldozers, trucks and builders will soon follow. Somehow, we call this progress.</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: "Arial Black"; font-size: 11pt;">I was a Motor Officer on the </span><place><city><span style="font-family: "Arial Black"; font-size: 11pt;">Abilene</span></city><span style="font-family: "Arial Black"; font-size: 11pt;">, </span><state><span style="font-family: "Arial Black"; font-size: 11pt;">Texas</span></state></place><span style="font-family: "Arial Black"; font-size: 11pt;"> Police Department. It was the end of my shift and I was headed for home. I was riding north on the westernmost street north of the rail road tracks. I observed that the fence that had enclosed a mesquite pasture had been torn down. I knew what that meant.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>This land that had been a pasture for cattle a few days earlier would soon be a housing development. </span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: "Arial Black"; font-size: 11pt;">I observed a cattle trail winding westward through the mesquite. I could not resist. I jumped the curb and started down that trail.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>When I was a mile or more away from the paved street, I found myself on a gentle upward slope. Shortly the slope became steeper. At the time I did not know it, but I was riding up the backside of a dam to a stock tank. Some folks outside </span><state><place><span style="font-family: "Arial Black"; font-size: 11pt;">Texas</span></place></state><span style="font-family: "Arial Black"; font-size: 11pt;"> call these bodies of water, ponds, but in </span><state><place><span style="font-family: "Arial Black"; font-size: 11pt;">Texas</span></place></state><span style="font-family: "Arial Black"; font-size: 11pt;">, they are stock tanks or just plain “tanks.”</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: "Arial Black"; font-size: 11pt;"></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: "Arial Black"; font-size: 11pt;"></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: "Arial Black"; font-size: 11pt;"></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: "Arial Black"; font-size: 11pt;"></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: "Arial Black"; font-size: 11pt;">Before I knew it, I was over the crest of the dam. On the other side, it was nearly straight down. Behold, below was a great body of water. I knew immediately that I had a serious problem. I can not swim. Even if I dismounted and climbed up the embankment, the motorcycle would go in the water, which appeared to be quite deep.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>How in the cat hair could I explain the loss of a police motorcycle? I put my left foot on the ground. I had my other foot on the brake peddle and was squeezing the handle of the front brake. Even so, I felt myself and the machine slowly inching down the steep embankment toward the water.</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: "Arial Black"; font-size: 11pt;">I knew that I needed help and fast. I grabbed my microphone and called for any Motor unit that was still on duty. I got no answer. All the Motor Officers except myself were probably already at home. In this case, I was not too proud to accept help from a patrol car. I could not reach any car or Headquarters by radio. It was probably because of my antenna being below the crest of this dam.</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: "Arial Black"; font-size: 11pt;">In those days motorcycles did not have electric starters. I knew that if the engine died or it I shut it off, it would be impossible to kick start the motorcycle on this steep slope. I also knew that the engine was getting hot. I was all alone and had to work this out on my own. Well, I was not completely alone, because I did some serious talking to The Lord along about then. I think it went something like this, “Lord, I got myself into this mess, now will you help me figure a way to get out?” </span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: "Arial Black"; font-size: 11pt;">I dismounted and laid the motorcycle down on its side. I pivoted it around until the front was headed up hill. <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I then picked the motorcycle back up and mounted again. I could feel it inching backward with both the front and rear brakes locked. I put the motorcycle into first gear and twisted the throttle wide open. I released both brakes and the clutch at the same time. The big Harley Davidson 74 Cubic inch FLH went up and over the crest of that dam like it was rocket powered.</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: "Arial Black"; font-size: 11pt;">This was one time when I was glad to see civilization and the paved streets that took me home. I decided it would be a good time to have another little talk with The Lord.</span></div>J. Bryan Wassonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08053719892515465613noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6780624211867831421.post-27994150687950948002010-12-02T12:16:00.000-08:002010-12-02T12:16:38.632-08:00A Cowboy and A Good Reinin’ Horse<div align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; text-align: center;"><b style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal;"><span style="font-size: 18pt;">A Cowboy and A Good Reinin’ Horse</span></b></div><div align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; text-align: center;"><b style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal;">By J. Bryan Wasson</b></div><div align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; text-align: center;"><br />
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</div><div align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; text-align: center;"><b style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal;"><span style="font-size: 16pt;">The cowboy and his horse are more than a team</span></b></div><div align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; text-align: center;"><b style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal;"><span style="font-size: 16pt;">They form a single unit</span></b></div><div align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; text-align: center;"><b style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal;"><span style="font-size: 16pt;">Without any seam</span></b></div><div align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; text-align: center;"><b style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal;"><span style="font-size: 16pt;">The brain of the man is connected</span></b></div><div align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; text-align: center;"><b style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal;"><span style="font-size: 16pt;">To the brain of the horse</span></b></div><div align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; text-align: center;"><b style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal;"><span style="font-size: 16pt;">By six foot ribbons of latago reins</span></b></div><div align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; text-align: center;"><b style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal;"><span style="font-size: 16pt;">When the hide of a cow</span></b></div><div align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; text-align: center;"><b style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal;"><span style="font-size: 16pt;">Meets the hide of a horse</span></b></div><div align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; text-align: center;"><b style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal;"><span style="font-size: 16pt;">With just whisper of a touch </span></b></div><div align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; text-align: center;"><b style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal;"><span style="font-size: 16pt;">On the side of the neck</span></b></div><div align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; text-align: center;"><b style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal;"><span style="font-size: 16pt;">The man and the horse become one</span></b></div><div align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; text-align: center;"><b style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal;"><span style="font-size: 16pt;">With a nudge of heel</span></b></div><div align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; text-align: center;"><b style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal;"><span style="font-size: 16pt;">And press of a knee</span></b></div><div align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; text-align: center;"><b style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal;"><span style="font-size: 16pt;">From the man on his back</span></b></div><div align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; text-align: center;"><b style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal;"><span style="font-size: 16pt;">Is all that it takes</span></b></div><div align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; text-align: center;"><b style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal;"><span style="font-size: 16pt;">For the cowboy and horse to become one</span></b></div><div align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; text-align: center;"><b style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal;"><span style="font-size: 16pt;">A dismounted cowboy don’t amount to much</span></b></div><div align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; text-align: center;"><b style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal;"><span style="font-size: 16pt;">It makes him feel</span></b></div><div align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; text-align: center;"><b style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal;"><span style="font-size: 16pt;">Helpless, and sort of alone and old</span></b></div><div align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; text-align: center;"><b style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal;"><span style="font-size: 16pt;">But give a dismounted cowboy a good reinin’ horse</span></b></div><div align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; text-align: center;"><b style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal;"><span style="font-size: 16pt;">And a dismounted cowboy is made whole</span></b></div><div align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; text-align: center;"><br />
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</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><b style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal;"><span style="font-size: 14pt;">©</span></b><b style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal;"><span style="font-size: 8pt;"> Copyright 2010 by J. Bryan Wasson</span></b></div><div align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; text-align: center;"><br />
</div>J. Bryan Wassonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08053719892515465613noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6780624211867831421.post-49717917974950324212010-12-01T13:03:00.000-08:002010-12-01T13:03:26.387-08:00The WildwoodA great Family Tribute as well as a tribute to all Veterans. A few months ago, I had the honor of swearing my Grandson into the U.S. Army. He is now serving in Germany. --- Unrelated: I have not spent much time on the web for the last few monts due to illness. Last week, I found something on one of my Blogs that you had sent to me, but due to computer problems, I lost it. If possible, please send again. Thanks, JBWJ. Bryan Wassonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08053719892515465613noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6780624211867831421.post-42254487071804365942010-10-18T12:45:00.000-07:002010-10-18T14:09:24.391-07:00The Birth Control Chamber<div align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; text-align: center;"><b style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal;">Looking Back – The Birth Control Chamber</b></div><div align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; text-align: center;"><b style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal;">By J. Bryan Wasson</b></div><div align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; text-align: justify;">I should call this “<b style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal;">Looking Back</b>” column “<b style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal;">Looking Forward</b>” because my mind has <b style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal;"><i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">conceived </i></b>the most brilliant birth control method of the<b style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal;"> future.</b> The applications for this technology are limitless and go far beyond birth control. This technology could also be used as an alternative to the death penalty which should please those opposed to this type of punishment.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I call this discovery, “The Birth Control Chamber.” It could likewise be called, “The Punishment Chamber, “The Execution Chamber,” etc.</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; text-align: justify;">I can explain both the means by which I made this discovery and the methodology for implementation in one story: </div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; text-align: justify;">Our great grandson, Jessie just turned eight. Our granddaughter, Tara rented the indoor swimming pool at a local motel in <place><city>Decatur</city>, <state>Texas</state></place> to have a birthday party for Jessie. The room in which this indoor swimming pool is located is rather small in comparison to many such areas that I have encountered. It is no larger than 120’ X 90’. The walls and ceiling of this swimming pool area are all of concrete and tile. The echo capabilities of such construction are self evident.</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; text-align: justify;">When you put 18 screaming, water splashing second graders in this confined echo chamber, the noise level is far beyond that which could be measured on any decibel reading meter or any sound system that could ever be devised by the human mind. </div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; text-align: justify;">I believe that if any young newly wed couple were placed in this echo chamber for 45 minutes to one hour that the trauma to their central nervous system would be so disastrous that they would not have the ability to ever consider having children.</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; text-align: justify;">The other possible applications for this simple, extremely basic yet futuristic scientific technology are endless.</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; text-align: justify;"><br />
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</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; text-align: justify;"><br />
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</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; text-align: justify;"><date day="18" month="10" year="2010"><b style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal;"><span style="font-size: 8pt;">Oct. 18, 2010</span></b></date><b style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal;"><span style="font-size: 8pt;">, JBW</span></b></div>J. Bryan Wassonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08053719892515465613noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6780624211867831421.post-38628906971373783862010-09-23T12:42:00.000-07:002010-09-24T15:25:57.759-07:00Trooper Killed In Line Of Duty<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhDnE1e4J0hV0Qbu6A6AAQ_VPbzZHPaBPB5GFvFJAng0wsJM1L8UorjEfK6XRX3Qk73G1GUPtC_J95OLVYzq5DyGy-JnNNs-H6QI4ZXjOtmdh3FdgDIQJgnKWeb0M0UaD96aT6dwiaLfMft/s1600/Tribute+to+David+Slaton.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="240" px="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhDnE1e4J0hV0Qbu6A6AAQ_VPbzZHPaBPB5GFvFJAng0wsJM1L8UorjEfK6XRX3Qk73G1GUPtC_J95OLVYzq5DyGy-JnNNs-H6QI4ZXjOtmdh3FdgDIQJgnKWeb0M0UaD96aT6dwiaLfMft/s320/Tribute+to+David+Slaton.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">This Texas Highway Patrol Car was parked in front of White Family Funeral Home<br />
in Bowie, Texas with a single wreath on the windshield. People started adding flowers<br />
and small flags to the back and sides of the Patrol Car as a tribute to Texas Highway Patrol<br />
Cpl. David Slaton. Cpl. Slaton's body was inside the funeral under the protective and respectful eyes of two<br />
Texas DPS State Troopers pending Funeral on Sept. 24, 2010 at First Baptist Church, Bowie.</td></tr>
</tbody></table><div style="text-align: justify;"><span class="UIStory_Message">The above composite photo is a tribute to my friend, Highway Patrol Cpl David Slaton. Cpl. Slaton died Sept. 20, 2010 as he responded to a complaint of cows on the road on U.S. Highway 81. His shift was to end in one hour. He had talked to his wife on the phone about 20 minutes earlier and said, "If I don't get those cows off the road, someone is going to get killed." His Patrol car struck a cow which knocked the Patrol car into the path of an 118 wheeler on this narrow two lane highway. He was the friendliest guy I ever met, yet tough as nails when necessary. I was Chief of Police when he came to to Bowie as his first and only duty station after graduating from the DPS Academy. He met a girl, Lynetta Boudreaux, that was a Bowie Police Department Dispatcher. <span class="text_exposed_show"> I had hired Lynetta not long before David came to Bowie. Love and marriage followed for David and Lynetta. David and Lynetta had one son, Bo who is a college student.</span></span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span class="UIStory_Message"><span class="text_exposed_show">My wife took a number of photos of the Highway Patrol car parked in front of the Funeral Home with its' wreaths, flowers, and flags. It was a cloudy day. As we drove away from the funeral home, I spotted the Texas flag flying in the distance against a cloudy sky background. I asked my wife to stop and take a photo of it. This flag seemed to me to be a fitting tribute to a fallen Texas State Trooper. I added more clouds to the sky and made the above composite photograph as a tribute to my friend. </span></span></div><br />
<span class="UIStory_Message"><span class="text_exposed_show">I Love you Lynetta, Bo and, LaVelle. I am sorry that I did not get to know David's parents.</span></span>J. Bryan Wassonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08053719892515465613noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6780624211867831421.post-69388429918196471262010-09-07T13:37:00.000-07:002010-09-11T11:15:36.365-07:00Parkinson's Disease<div style="text-align: justify;">I started developing symptoms of Parkinson's Disease about four years ago. It did not affect my guitar playing until slightly over a year ago. I was entertaining at a meeting of Senior Focus, an activity sponsored by Bowie Memorial Hospital. I noticed that I was having difficulty controlling my hands and my fingers. That was the last public entertainment I have done with my guitar. </div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: justify;">Since that time, I have continued to sing without my guitar. I have sung in my own Church as well as many other churches for many years, always with my guitar. On August 8, 2010, I sang at my home church, First Baptist Church, Bowie, Texas for the very first time ever without my guitar. You can see a video of that song at Bowie Texas Area Music <a href="http://bowietexasareamusic.blogspot.com/">http://bowietexasareamusic.blogspot.com/</a> . You can also see it on YouTube along with two other videos. In one of the other videos, I am singing a song entitled, "A Little Spot in Heaven"written by Marty Robbins. Harold Goad of The Village Singers played lead guitar for me on that song. <strong>Note:</strong> If you do not have any CDs of the Village Singers, you are missing some great music. I had only one mic on that one and Harold's guitar is the only one you can hear. The other video is a Jam session at the home of Chuck and Faith Duffin.</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: justify;">I continue sing on a regular basis at the Friday Night Jam Session at the Bowie Senior Citizens Center. I also "plunk" around on my guitar almost daily for physical therapy. I find that it helps with the use of my hands and fingers. It has no value, however, with tremors.</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: justify;">I had a video of myself posted on this website, plunking on my guitar at home. I called the video Eppiphone therapy. I decided that the video served no purpose and removed it from this site.</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: justify;">Parkinson's is a horrible, strange and unpredictable disease. It affects the brain and central nervous system. Although I continue to sing, my voice is weaker now and I suspect it will continue to grow weaker. Some Parkinson's victims loose all oral communication. Fatigue also seems to affect the disease. Occasionally on rare days it seems that the Parkinson's does not exist. On Thursday, June 3, I picked up my guitar for my regular therapy session. I was able to play smooth, correct and without a single error. I wish I could do that all the time, but it just is not to be.</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><strong>First published June 5, 2010, JBW</strong><br />
<strong>Revised and Video removed Sept. 7, 2010, JBW</strong><br />
<br />
<strong>J. Bryan Wasson</strong><br />
<strong>Bowie, Texas Area Music - Remember Music is Good For You !</strong>J. Bryan Wassonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08053719892515465613noreply@blogger.com6tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6780624211867831421.post-37764099386028534272010-09-04T13:11:00.000-07:002010-09-11T10:58:48.363-07:00The Business Card<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgo91-UgxZHCVitPnt7QPgCkCdzzbOXcGa1HMgrEBwOeWOFv9TC5ZFh41ZqMuxxKYMbIFd0Zf-bCAA7Rt6V9VA_JW6XEt4PzvthkHH1BmyOgWo7ji6R3uWurYfxVKnWtwfSyDazG_RsTUsC/s1600/My+USDOT+Business+Cards+Arkansas.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="191" ox="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgo91-UgxZHCVitPnt7QPgCkCdzzbOXcGa1HMgrEBwOeWOFv9TC5ZFh41ZqMuxxKYMbIFd0Zf-bCAA7Rt6V9VA_JW6XEt4PzvthkHH1BmyOgWo7ji6R3uWurYfxVKnWtwfSyDazG_RsTUsC/s320/My+USDOT+Business+Cards+Arkansas.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">My business card while assigned to the Arkansas Division.<br />
My first duty station with UDOT was with the South Carolina Division, <br />
with headquarters in Columbia, SC. I was in the Arkansas Division <br />
at the time of my retirement.</td></tr>
</tbody></table><br />
Looking Back – The Business Card<br />
<br />
<br />
By J. Bryan Wasson<br />
<br />
The business card has become so much a part of the operations of nearly all business and governmental institutions that is difficult to consider day to day business without them. Such cards under the name of, “calling cards” were used as far back as the 1800s.<br />
<br />
All U.S. Government agencies use them. The U.S. Department of Transportation is made up of a number of operating administrations such as the Federal Highway Administration, the National Highway Traffic Safety Administration, The Federal Aviation Administration, The Federal Railroad Administration, etc. All business cards for the U.S. Department are of the same basic design. The U.S. Dept. of Transportation logo known as a Triscallion is in the upper left hand corner with one exception, the Federal Aviation Administration which uses its own logo that predates the establishment of the U.S. DOT. (Note: During my tenure with U.S. DOT, there was another exception, the U.S. Coast Guard which also predated the establishment of the U.S. DOT and has its own logo. The U.S. Coast Guard is now under The Department of Homeland Security and at that time was under the Treasury Department.) The only thing different about the cards was the name of the individual, the operating administration, the office address and phone number as well as job title or position. The job title on my own business card was Special Agent.<br />
<br />
All Federal Agencies Have an Inspector General (IG). In cop talk that is cop talk for Internal Affairs. The Office of the IG for the U.S. Department of Transportation also had other functions including the investigation of fraud related to construction on Interstate Highways and other Federal Aid Highways.<br />
<br />
I had conducted a couple of investigations related to an Arkansas motor carrier. For some reason the office of the IG had become interested in that same motor carrier. I don’t know if their investigation related to my investigations of that motor carrier or something else related to that specific motor carrier.<br />
<br />
A Special Agent from the office of the IG showed up in our office and asked for all files related to that specific motor carrier. He introduced himself and gave me his business card and I stuck it in my pocket. Remember, the job title on his business card was Special Agent, the same as that on my own business cards. There was a vacant cubical directly across from my cubical that we always used to set up folks from other offices who needed a temporary place to work while in the Arkansas Division Office. This guy from the IG office was set up in that cubical. From that location he could see and hear everything I did. <br />
<br />
This guy had less than zero personality. One day, I answered my phone on a routine matter that had absolutely nothing to do with his investigation. He could only hear my end of the conversation. When I hung up the phone, he proceeded to tell me that I did not handle that phone call properly and that that was not what he would have said. He should not have been eavesdropping and it was none of his business. It sort of raised my hackles. <br />
<br />
When I changed shirts, I always transferred the contents of my shirt pocket to the other shirt. His business card therefore remained in my shirt pocket for quiet some time.<br />
<br />
A few weeks later, I encountered another person who was very unhappy about something. This guy had a bad attitude and would not have been happy if he had been about to be hung with a brand new rope. At the conclusion of our conversation, I remembered the business card that I had in my shirt pocket from the other very unpleasant guy from the office of the IG. In my mind, I thought that these two very unpleasant guys might just hit it off great. I reached in my pocket and handed the man the business card of the Special Agent from the office of the IG. I said, “Give me a call if I can assist you with anything.” That was the last I ever heard from either of these two tormented souls.<br />
<br />
<br />
<span style="font-size: xx-small;">09-04, JBW</span>J. Bryan Wassonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08053719892515465613noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6780624211867831421.post-80528454345581256822010-07-11T14:22:00.000-07:002010-07-11T14:43:43.791-07:00A little Spot In Heaven<div align="justify" class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><iframe allowfullscreen='allowfullscreen' webkitallowfullscreen='webkitallowfullscreen' mozallowfullscreen='mozallowfullscreen' width='320' height='266' src='https://www.blogger.com/video.g?token=AD6v5dzo3QkAJvfvroECiXmx7vUieHHZnJIiL2PmVw5PY3v9HcetzFCYpySBaHL7M3FsGtVR1ewzJZiQKf3_s9hr5Q' class='b-hbp-video b-uploaded' frameborder='0'></iframe></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">In this Video I am singing, <strong>"A Little Spot In Heaven",</strong> written by</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">Marty Robbins, at First Baptist Church, Bowie. I am being backed up by </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">Harold Goad of The Village Singers. Harold Goad is one of the greatest guitar players</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">you will ever find. If you have not heard the Village Singers, you need to get some of their <span class="goog-spellcheck-word">CDs</span>.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">There <span class="goog-spellcheck-word">CDs</span> are available at, The Music Shed which you can find on the web.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">You can also do <strong>a </strong>Google search for <strong>The Village Singers, </strong>and find other</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">sources for their music. If you ever get a chance to go to a Village Singers concert, you are in for a treat.</div>J. Bryan Wassonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08053719892515465613noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6780624211867831421.post-5334059870152227772010-06-16T09:04:00.000-07:002011-02-14T14:55:58.949-08:00Flying NewspapersElevators in buildings today are self – serve. You just get in and punch the button representing the floor you wish to go to. It was not always this way. During the 1930s and 40s there was an Elevator Operator. This person usually sat on a tall stool and operated the controls. The controls were most often a round wheel looking device with a handle on it. The Operator used this device to stop at the desired floor and to open the doors. The method of operation was by cranking the wheel to a specific location that made the elevator go up, stop or go down and to open the doors. Most often there was no (inside) doors mounted on the elevator car. The doors were mounted to the walls of the building. The passengers could see the walls of the building as they went up and down. The floor numbers were often painted on the wall as the only means to tell what floor had been reached.<br />
<div style="text-align: justify;"></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: justify;">In office buildings many offices subscribed for one or more copies of the local newspaper. A newspaper delivery person would make the rounds of office buildings before daylight and place a stack of newspapers inside an open elevator. When the elevator operator came on duty, the first order of business was to go to each floor and deliver the appropriate number of newspapers to each office on that floor. This process was repeated until every office in a building received its newspaper or newspapers. </div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: justify;">By the time I was in the second grade, I was very familiar with every square inch of one office building, including it’s’ elevator. My mother worked as a Dental Assistant on the 3rd floor of a building known as the Alexander Building in downtown Abilene, Texas. I rode the elevator frequently as I visited the office where my mother worked. Our family physician, Dr. Prichard also had his offices in that same building. I often roamed the halls of all seven floors of the building. By today’s standards, a seven story building is not very tall, but in the early 40s to a child seven stories was very high up in the air. </div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: justify;">I watched many parades through downtown Abilene from an office window or from the fire escape of that building. Throughout World War II troops from nearby Camp Barkley paraded through the streets of downtown Abilene. There was also the annual parade for the West Texas Fair. It was always led by the world famous six white horses of Hardin Simmons University. </div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: justify;">Now I will fast forward to 1954. I had served a hitch in the U.S. Air Force and had become a member of the Abilene Police Department. The Abilene Police Department no longer uses foot patrolmen, but when I went to work, a downtown walking beat on the mid night shift was considered to be a good starting place for a rookie. In those days, shifts were not rotated. All rookies started on the 11:00PM to 7:00AM midnight shift.</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: justify;">It was a very cold night with a cold Texas north wind blowing. On that night I was assigned to the Pine Street Beat. The Pine Street Beat ran from North 1st Street to North 6th Street. The East/West boundaries were from the alley east of Walnut to the alley between Pine and Cypress. I had been walking sidewalks and alleys checking doors and windows on places of business since 11:00PM. It was about 4:30AM. I needed a break to rest my feet and warm my body for a while. Officers in patrol cars could stop at an all night cafe and drink hot coffee. There was no such luxury for downtown beat walking officers. But, I knew a place I could rest my feet and warm up.</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: justify;">I was aware that the doors into the lobby of the Alexander building were never locked at night. I also knew that the two elevator cars were parked on the first floor with the doors open. I also knew of that tall stool used by the elevator operator. </div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: justify;">I walked into the lobby and entered one of the elevators where I proceeded to get comfortable on that tall stool. This was nice. I was warm and cozy and my feet got a much needed rest. I had sat there in the dark elevator long enough that my eyes became adjusted to the light. At about 5:00AM, I heard the front door to the lobby open. Then a delivery person walked into the elevator with a tall stack of newspapers. Just coming in from outside, he did not see me sitting there in the dark. I said, “Good morning.” He screamed, threw up his arms and newspapers went flying everywhere. He must have been in a hurry to deliver the rest of his papers because his exit from the building was extremely rapid. I decided that this would be a good time for me to return to my beat.</div> <table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh4TKFOM2Y_t022F-q8oUvbMV_CH5CyxIZGTYbJFuzf_kNjRzamZsT1VeDhePT1o6wKEKeECo2WX-e4JGZqIRpeCO3oYVHNiBhUc5XWcGrbLUTLkQ808rje2EKkarTks0V24w_oyyNrzQzJ/s1600/FNPCartoon+1.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="303" qu="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh4TKFOM2Y_t022F-q8oUvbMV_CH5CyxIZGTYbJFuzf_kNjRzamZsT1VeDhePT1o6wKEKeECo2WX-e4JGZqIRpeCO3oYVHNiBhUc5XWcGrbLUTLkQ808rje2EKkarTks0V24w_oyyNrzQzJ/s400/FNPCartoon+1.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Cartoon by Mack Sterling: Mack is my uncle. We grew up together and<br />
he is more like a brother than an uncle. Mack is also a former Abilene<br />
Police Officer.</td></tr>
</tbody></table> <br />
O2-03, JBW;<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
Wasson's Looking Back<br />
Looking Back by J. Bryan Wasson<br />
Looking BackJ. Bryan Wassonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08053719892515465613noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6780624211867831421.post-73631186945270910202010-06-10T14:45:00.000-07:002010-09-27T23:14:42.881-07:00Reunion of Retired and Former Employees of Abilene Police Department<div style="text-align: justify;"><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiERs65d0vStKo7TamdQX_oD7fnUxzw4rMnMNzZvwNJtY6JlasWr0rj5o_hSIEVSM2XNY_BT5t4IL0XRjWGU02AfbTMStZYgH284-tE-x_HoLchBn8LeadbVoerzSmOaCEVv4eeRucE3HBw/s1600/June+2010+058(A).jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="255" ru="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiERs65d0vStKo7TamdQX_oD7fnUxzw4rMnMNzZvwNJtY6JlasWr0rj5o_hSIEVSM2XNY_BT5t4IL0XRjWGU02AfbTMStZYgH284-tE-x_HoLchBn8LeadbVoerzSmOaCEVv4eeRucE3HBw/s320/June+2010+058(A).jpg" width="320" /></a></div>Retired and former law enforcement officers have a special connection. They like to get together for fellowship and to tell "old war stories" from their past.</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div><div style="text-align: left;"></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div>The 19th annual reunion of Retired and Former Employees of The Abilene Police Department was held on Friday, June 25, 2010 at the Abilene Civic Center. <br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgJ2HxaLkmm8wXt0MJZqDyJaLVepDvQ161lf-SE9l5zQT0NnYeI6MAzVRpt3-BdzlnynVx_oc7LHNAHudjlcymOE74OEpXOyElVNShT-FIvODnA9puB7jHh6S7fLujvFxa-atN3IdTWdAm9/s1600/APD+Retiree+Annual+Banquet+2010+041.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="240" ru="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgJ2HxaLkmm8wXt0MJZqDyJaLVepDvQ161lf-SE9l5zQT0NnYeI6MAzVRpt3-BdzlnynVx_oc7LHNAHudjlcymOE74OEpXOyElVNShT-FIvODnA9puB7jHh6S7fLujvFxa-atN3IdTWdAm9/s320/APD+Retiree+Annual+Banquet+2010+041.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Retired Taylor County Sheriff Jack <span class="goog-spellcheck-word">Dieken</span> and Rachel Valdez,<br />
wife of Retired <span class="goog-spellcheck-word">APD</span> Officer Richard Valdez</td></tr>
</tbody></table><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjeh7m8ryoZQd1tYw68FR-F_3Cn1A73DaVAGy42CB5O8PCDehhKStJtJFWN_foIZfmV656JrBMDQLIvLFdl5lmCqDNnSu2-j0yERNVn-C4fCTHS0M3vNFp9bky2Wc8s8MvoYnWNXz_kJtfI/s1600/APD+Retiree+Annual+Banquet+2010+046.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="240" ru="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjeh7m8ryoZQd1tYw68FR-F_3Cn1A73DaVAGy42CB5O8PCDehhKStJtJFWN_foIZfmV656JrBMDQLIvLFdl5lmCqDNnSu2-j0yERNVn-C4fCTHS0M3vNFp9bky2Wc8s8MvoYnWNXz_kJtfI/s320/APD+Retiree+Annual+Banquet+2010+046.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Retired Chief and Mrs. Melvin Martin: <br />
Chief Martin is the Immediate Past President of Texas Police Chief's Association</td></tr>
</tbody></table><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh977kNSMKNZZuQCWmGuMS66HgAtuqikTn9ieIPk4hgoWJi2ZV4-Qdw9VHmIrFEwtNY6RjtTaMy4USmCACOL9a2SnpKQHqe1u66Ks6WpLbeCJbWyEzm9WXgmLHQQwqgjCyQfeqIcXPAKqLx/s1600/APD+Retiree+Annual+Banquet+2010+051.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="240" ru="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh977kNSMKNZZuQCWmGuMS66HgAtuqikTn9ieIPk4hgoWJi2ZV4-Qdw9VHmIrFEwtNY6RjtTaMy4USmCACOL9a2SnpKQHqe1u66Ks6WpLbeCJbWyEzm9WXgmLHQQwqgjCyQfeqIcXPAKqLx/s320/APD+Retiree+Annual+Banquet+2010+051.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Rafe <span class="goog-spellcheck-word">Harshberger</span> and Richard Valdez</td></tr>
</tbody></table><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiidthMB1Lg85lSDGXp0XpJ1dh4SJ1Dt3uoHPMZpc110Hf895agHd1dFRugBVMuQpXnPvT4k3REE_hqcgKlPZRr13ODO-npgt6T93tUgERiims7899rOgzv4SVgR2qW3lBmuRIymuCxQLuL/s1600/APD+Retiree+Annual+Banquet+2010+070.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="240" ru="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiidthMB1Lg85lSDGXp0XpJ1dh4SJ1Dt3uoHPMZpc110Hf895agHd1dFRugBVMuQpXnPvT4k3REE_hqcgKlPZRr13ODO-npgt6T93tUgERiims7899rOgzv4SVgR2qW3lBmuRIymuCxQLuL/s320/APD+Retiree+Annual+Banquet+2010+070.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Eva <span class="goog-spellcheck-word">Pelton</span> and her son. It was my pleasure to have worked<br />
with Eva. She is the oldest living member of the Retired and<br />
Former Employees of the <span class="goog-spellcheck-word">APD</span>. Mrs. <span class="goog-spellcheck-word">Pelton</span> worked both <br />
Parking Meters and School Crossings.</td></tr>
</tbody></table><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhaxY_9Kjr6g-v3tfWlF3uPgdyysKjcQEjENUDUZO_TFeECvCu9aS4XO7eZZHyvBCYygf7vpYzWc9bvu56s-dpqeyqvn5rJ7zqNxRCPoN2awGCA8zBFUM9M8r23MUuyr7lagUscToLM5q-c/s1600/APD+Retiree+Annual+Banquet+2010+061.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="240" ru="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhaxY_9Kjr6g-v3tfWlF3uPgdyysKjcQEjENUDUZO_TFeECvCu9aS4XO7eZZHyvBCYygf7vpYzWc9bvu56s-dpqeyqvn5rJ7zqNxRCPoN2awGCA8zBFUM9M8r23MUuyr7lagUscToLM5q-c/s320/APD+Retiree+Annual+Banquet+2010+061.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Dick <span class="goog-spellcheck-word">Dorough</span> and Jimmy <span class="goog-spellcheck-word">Trickett</span> are both currently living in Arkansas.</td></tr>
</tbody></table><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhBlQ9cQWEh3PIA7X2ECtpvMnhKaBDCJ4DYH-SUhq9OW_PyPa3yZTA9h5BVquvZE-6X6qrNq79gALT8xdDZBVGSqbyhBUv5pgHNDOmU8M0X0PFOawTYAgnsYjRP-mgi2MlfxI4nBvewn9sL/s1600/mail21.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" ru="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhBlQ9cQWEh3PIA7X2ECtpvMnhKaBDCJ4DYH-SUhq9OW_PyPa3yZTA9h5BVquvZE-6X6qrNq79gALT8xdDZBVGSqbyhBUv5pgHNDOmU8M0X0PFOawTYAgnsYjRP-mgi2MlfxI4nBvewn9sL/s1600/mail21.jpg" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Alfred <span class="goog-spellcheck-word">Schaffner</span> serves as Chaplain for the<br />
Retired and Former Officers of <span class="goog-spellcheck-word">APD</span>.</td></tr>
</tbody></table><br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj4ZCn5pxtS4NZ-YKiTnEDeCwFKIyIBHhAVIiG1vmQiFxVz2cm94_337Bqp8VlXtumBIcMMIr9G7GlngqfryoPxwz7hFzDmyz2vIutTgNAYFOP9OqptI4b7oYMK2omcCYBz3zg6J4MeCJm2/s1600/APD+Retiree+Annual+Banquet+2010+064.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="240" ru="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj4ZCn5pxtS4NZ-YKiTnEDeCwFKIyIBHhAVIiG1vmQiFxVz2cm94_337Bqp8VlXtumBIcMMIr9G7GlngqfryoPxwz7hFzDmyz2vIutTgNAYFOP9OqptI4b7oYMK2omcCYBz3zg6J4MeCJm2/s320/APD+Retiree+Annual+Banquet+2010+064.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"></td></tr>
</tbody></table><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgOL_NhKY3oJSZKmiNy4qJ-w_7K9qvfF5sBine87z6mpj7GVnBOy52TtyOhGH-eJuTdjd29G3jIl4mbik9FYz1QcC1eNmsMtVwUy62KDAPWRKf0SZefEOQQgMsB2xv4uwSMY46bxhMryReR/s1600/APD+Retiree+Annual+Banquet+2010+035.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="240" ru="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgOL_NhKY3oJSZKmiNy4qJ-w_7K9qvfF5sBine87z6mpj7GVnBOy52TtyOhGH-eJuTdjd29G3jIl4mbik9FYz1QcC1eNmsMtVwUy62KDAPWRKf0SZefEOQQgMsB2xv4uwSMY46bxhMryReR/s320/APD+Retiree+Annual+Banquet+2010+035.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">President, Gene <span class="goog-spellcheck-word">Keesee</span> and Chief of Police, Stan <span class="goog-spellcheck-word">Standridge</span></td></tr>
</tbody></table><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgCpCLqFNQ13lGAzdLczn85wthLQ2_9L_n0rU3y6oTALmVw5cW065T74ktGtcXPk1kZF8mhyNfyWMaL1P5cY73bHisjp21NxGEFOX-hFPJEJxeVKGDFfIw8SYHxifjkVkI5uNWQaVXs91hJ/s1600/APD+Retiree+Annual+Banquet+2010+028.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="240" ru="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgCpCLqFNQ13lGAzdLczn85wthLQ2_9L_n0rU3y6oTALmVw5cW065T74ktGtcXPk1kZF8mhyNfyWMaL1P5cY73bHisjp21NxGEFOX-hFPJEJxeVKGDFfIw8SYHxifjkVkI5uNWQaVXs91hJ/s320/APD+Retiree+Annual+Banquet+2010+028.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">J.C. and Louise Jones: On my first night on duty with <span class="goog-spellcheck-word">APD</span>, I was assigned<br />
to walk the Chestnut Street Beat with J.C. Jones. We became very close friends.<br />
We spent many hours walking and digging through junk yards. We<br />
brought home a lot of perfectly good junk, the value of which , our wives<br />
were unable to recognize.</td></tr>
</tbody></table><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjyr4SFxV_hcgRrKBsIrHFhtfyraTKe6vowh21APLwDLaQnZLmuASAgq5ip8Uw4GykZ2BYC38pjt97RJ-GOnpm9TgMKc2A_sywsxQPDQ9gY9SpGJy702caWJVEYAawChSjC7LjDWzixOCYL/s1600/APD+Retiree+Annual+Banquet+2010+067.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="240" ru="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjyr4SFxV_hcgRrKBsIrHFhtfyraTKe6vowh21APLwDLaQnZLmuASAgq5ip8Uw4GykZ2BYC38pjt97RJ-GOnpm9TgMKc2A_sywsxQPDQ9gY9SpGJy702caWJVEYAawChSjC7LjDWzixOCYL/s320/APD+Retiree+Annual+Banquet+2010+067.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj1zt7wLGLLtM40sGdyiAVoE049zg3O4hhi0qJ7mJDXSVgyDQVfZfbuVFIzv3LHUYEQfJUavXmdc4t0Q9En3lgfUUkgtn44WSyPU7hg4vWVP_8upEftWBQTvgXKaN92gNQfb3KIbzxB8pXt/s1600/APD+Retiree+Annual+Banquet+2010+063.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" ru="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj1zt7wLGLLtM40sGdyiAVoE049zg3O4hhi0qJ7mJDXSVgyDQVfZfbuVFIzv3LHUYEQfJUavXmdc4t0Q9En3lgfUUkgtn44WSyPU7hg4vWVP_8upEftWBQTvgXKaN92gNQfb3KIbzxB8pXt/s320/APD+Retiree+Annual+Banquet+2010+063.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><strong>19th Annual Reunion at Abilene Civic Center:</strong> All the above photos</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">are courtesy of Richard Valdez. I am sorry that it was not possible </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">to post a photo of every person present at the reunion.</div><div align="center"></div><div align="justify"><span style="font-size: small;">This was the 2nd year that Shirley and I have missed the reunion of Retired and Former Employees of the Abilene Police Department due to illness. My health had improved and it appeared that we would be able to make the trip to Abilene. We had made our reservations for the reunion and I was very excited about visiting with old friends. I was looking forward to this reunion due to the fact that due to age of our members and health of some, including myself, that it could possibly be the last time I would see some or all of these friends. My boyhood dream was to become an Abilene Police Motor Officer. My years with the Abilene Police Department are some of the most important of my life. It was while serving as an Abilene Police Motor Officer that I met and married Shirley who has been with me for 54 years. Shirley and I were both born in Abilene.</span></div><div align="justify"><br />
</div><div align="justify"><span style="font-size: small;">I am looking forward to the 20th Annual Reunion next year and pray that my health will allow me to make the trip to A<span class="goog-spellcheck-word">bilene</span>. We hope to see you there!</span></div><br />
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<br />
<br />
<strong>Wasson's Looking Back</strong><br />
<strong>Looking Back by J. Bryan Wasson</strong></td></tr>
</tbody></table> </div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div align="center" style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div>J. Bryan Wassonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08053719892515465613noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6780624211867831421.post-17682171151866788242010-06-05T13:43:00.000-07:002010-09-27T23:19:00.625-07:00My First Motorcycle<div style="text-align: right;"></div><div align="center"><strong>My First Motorcycle</strong></div><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg1tR52QdcFqDuYl2KGjeAvDnY5YcuOsXJSlR3j0TwvAJK4dW4CYcY0N51GhZUuiOXoINKaba_vUGwfF0vf87cRRpIcuQLKbxNusUht5IA0pk4X861L9tTahw3IG0ZnweFBZd9pUfftE0OT/s1600/1942-harley-davidson-WLA.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" gu="true" height="234" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg1tR52QdcFqDuYl2KGjeAvDnY5YcuOsXJSlR3j0TwvAJK4dW4CYcY0N51GhZUuiOXoINKaba_vUGwfF0vf87cRRpIcuQLKbxNusUht5IA0pk4X861L9tTahw3IG0ZnweFBZd9pUfftE0OT/s320/1942-harley-davidson-WLA.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Pictured above is a 1942 Harley Davidson <span class="goog-spellcheck-word">WLA</span> Military Motorcycle,<br />
My first motorcycle was much like the one pictured above, less<br />
the windshield and rifle rack. My motorcycle, however had the original <br />
military leather saddle bags. It had been painted black, the same color of<br />
<span class="goog-spellcheck-word">APD</span> motorcycles at the time.</td></tr>
</tbody></table><br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div><div style="text-align: center;"> </div>By J. Bryan <span class="goog-spellcheck-word">Wasson</span><br />
<br />
It was a motorcycle that caused me to meet my wife, Shirley. I was a Motor Officer with the Abilene, Texas Police Department at the time we met. It was also a motorcycle that came close to ending a very short marriage.<br />
<br />
There is no doubt in my mind that the happiest period in my life as a law enforcement officer was the five years that I rode a motorcycle in the Traffic Division of the Abilene Police Department. I was on duty from the time I stepped out of the house in the morning and through my leg over that motorcycle until I got off the motorcycle at my home at the end of my shift. Can you imagine, getting paid to do what you loved to do most? Therein lays the problem.<br />
<br />
I did not own a motorcycle when Shirley and I first got married; I just rode a motorcycle owned by the Abilene Police Department for eight hours per day. Soon after we were married, I purchased my first motorcycle, a 1942 Harley Davidson <span class="goog-spellcheck-word">WLA</span>, U.S. Army surplus motorcycle in mint condition. The Motor Officers rotated shifts. Some of us went in early for the early morning traffic. Some came in later and stayed on duty until the 5:00PM traffic rush was over.<br />
<br />
Shirley was working at the S&H Green Stamp Store. She did not get off until 5:00PM or after. On the days that I worked the early shift, I would be home by 3:30PM. I would park my Police motorcycle, run up the stairs of our garage apartment, change out of my uniform and then back down the stairs. I would then mount my own personal motorcycle and be gone again. I would ride until about 9:00PM and then come home. My wife asked me point blank, “don’t you get enough motorcycle riding in eight hours?” My answer was, “well, no.” She then explained to me in a way that I could understand that this was not normal behavior for any husband, let alone a newlywed. I soon sold my first motorcycle. ---------Many other motorcycles would follow, however.<br />
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<br />
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<br />
Wasson's Looking Back<br />
Looking Back by J. Bryan Wasson<br />
Looking Back<br />
J. Bryan WassonJ. Bryan Wassonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08053719892515465613noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6780624211867831421.post-80509685961534799352010-05-03T14:07:00.000-07:002010-09-27T23:20:52.719-07:00Law Enforcement Officers Memorial Month<div style="text-align: justify;"><div style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: large;">2010 Law Enforcement Officers Memorial</span></div><div align="center">Abilene, Taylor County, Texas</div><div align="center"><br />
</div><div align="center" class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgbg-Tr7GNOlwAlAn1Hwg88oats2AfObUNhMQJTUhwp4Gyklo_Qj1ojGnp3mJSsSgYjBaJbHc6Lko-NTuSzSqJt-6FrKJ_3IZg0w2ZeBxaTb4P3vVQUaLPH1n8QPqH8ENqyIxS3Xb7a8Zpq/s1600/Patches2010Memorial.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="91" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgbg-Tr7GNOlwAlAn1Hwg88oats2AfObUNhMQJTUhwp4Gyklo_Qj1ojGnp3mJSsSgYjBaJbHc6Lko-NTuSzSqJt-6FrKJ_3IZg0w2ZeBxaTb4P3vVQUaLPH1n8QPqH8ENqyIxS3Xb7a8Zpq/s320/Patches2010Memorial.jpg" width="320" wt="true" /></a></div><div align="center"><br />
</div><div align="center" class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div><div align="center"> <strong>The month of May is National Law Enforcement Officers Month. Memorial Services for fallen Law Enforcement Officers are conducted throughout the nation during the month of May. The Taylor County Commissioners Court as well as the Abilene City Council proclaimed the week of May 9th - 15th as National Law Enforcement Officers Memorial Week. It was my honor to answer the Roll Call for my dad, at the Roll Call of fallen Law Enforcement Officers at the Memorial Service at <span class="goog-spellcheck-word">McMurry</span> University in Abilene on May 5th. My dad, Taylor County Deputy Sheriff J. B. "Jake" <span class="goog-spellcheck-word">Wasson</span> is listed on the Lost Lawman Memorial located at the Offices of the Sheriffs' Association of Texas in Austin and on the Texas Peace Officer Memorial on the grounds of the State Capitol in Austin. Please check out the web site of the Sheriff's Association of Texas under links on this blog. Click on Lost Lawman Memorial on that site. Then check by county or by officer's name.</strong></div></div><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi6rUU3ZyX5Qe-B0P3EkVbL0f0MdXP9_sE0SjP6usO7RrPFnWjD7f7_oygPIS7kj3W5RZ9o_9Mb4-bk15I4do96iOzTv8r_3IUvPeNew-MtG6no4zI-yb16ZGoIqrhyphenhyphenwW4_Ube1vPFhiyo6/s1600/Jake+Wasson+Deputy+SheriffID+Photo(B).jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="397" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi6rUU3ZyX5Qe-B0P3EkVbL0f0MdXP9_sE0SjP6usO7RrPFnWjD7f7_oygPIS7kj3W5RZ9o_9Mb4-bk15I4do96iOzTv8r_3IUvPeNew-MtG6no4zI-yb16ZGoIqrhyphenhyphenwW4_Ube1vPFhiyo6/s400/Jake+Wasson+Deputy+SheriffID+Photo(B).jpg" tt="true" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><strong>My dad, Taylor County Deputy Sheriff, J.B. "Jake" <span class="goog-spellcheck-word">Wasson</span>; </strong><br />
<strong>End of Watch January 12, 1967</strong></td></tr>
</tbody></table><div style="text-align: justify;"><strong>It is ironic that as we made plans to attend this memorial service in Abilene that an Abilene Police Dept. Motor Officer, Rodney Holder was killed while in pursuit of a traffic violator at So. 12th & Sales Blvd, just a few blocks from the site of the Memorial Service.</strong></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhTk2tzx9ySVRtTF5KNQRIdPyKXRbMYf3d360gvIEBQZChpU7XAsQ263YTBM2iscrbY7xmD4f4fgQ4iSZLNQ30TPTzAtvlUG8K4j4Gakjv23QlVCEChjwMTQyzPqxoOTrqPQHfuFdXWkeJY/s1600/Police+Memorial+2010+010.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhTk2tzx9ySVRtTF5KNQRIdPyKXRbMYf3d360gvIEBQZChpU7XAsQ263YTBM2iscrbY7xmD4f4fgQ4iSZLNQ30TPTzAtvlUG8K4j4Gakjv23QlVCEChjwMTQyzPqxoOTrqPQHfuFdXWkeJY/s400/Police+Memorial+2010+010.jpg" tt="true" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Memorial Table at front of room, Photo by Richard Valdez, <span class="goog-spellcheck-word">APD</span> Retired.</td></tr>
</tbody></table><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: right; margin-left: 1em; text-align: right;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiDOSA_fzNazv-_dQDJTuMaxAJobQfCTBm6Wp8G_lScjTUam_6pkXrbTG0y5ijkIT3xva6-d1fCHbTr7IHF7dEH-cJaGrV_8qD44mq3iEYqzsgIsnuSTke0Wl09ymB-FGaYSu3DTP9Kj48_/s1600/PeaceOfficerMemorial2010Back.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiDOSA_fzNazv-_dQDJTuMaxAJobQfCTBm6Wp8G_lScjTUam_6pkXrbTG0y5ijkIT3xva6-d1fCHbTr7IHF7dEH-cJaGrV_8qD44mq3iEYqzsgIsnuSTke0Wl09ymB-FGaYSu3DTP9Kj48_/s320/PeaceOfficerMemorial2010Back.jpg" width="207" wt="true" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Back of Program for Law Enforcement Memorial Service<br />
Inside of Program at right below:</td></tr>
</tbody></table><table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: right; margin-left: 1em; text-align: right;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiy0ROxKdtKNlMMK8ZXqWPwzETYtvfsRaqXXuOrsghz5BV299a51SoKX38iDpivvvH43M0oajT0i44rsundLMFJLG1637QIuZOxCLqA94J_Vza2jmgRwqQokjym1H23lz26D0fm50Go7Aln/s1600/APD%20Badge%20w%20Blk%20Band.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; cssfloat: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiy0ROxKdtKNlMMK8ZXqWPwzETYtvfsRaqXXuOrsghz5BV299a51SoKX38iDpivvvH43M0oajT0i44rsundLMFJLG1637QIuZOxCLqA94J_Vza2jmgRwqQokjym1H23lz26D0fm50Go7Aln/s320/APD%20Badge%20w%20Blk%20Band.jpg" width="218" wt="true" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">APD Badge with black Mourning Band<br />
in honor of fallen officers</td></tr>
</tbody></table><br />
</div><div style="text-align: left;"></div><div style="text-align: left;"></div><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: left; margin-right: 1em; text-align: left;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhETZNibgWw8jXXEr-uDT52ZUpxEWgOhzqjLc4kQJ6kwYJzx3e4RLo5jnMSs1Li2WUkx1-bFKQDxD9roxyIlSo5RndD-2_xBYMH3ooEQOBDiYlK9y_O3Y0D2GgV87zkbrti7zdwWVpm4SFG/s1600/PeaceOfficerMemorial2010Front.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhETZNibgWw8jXXEr-uDT52ZUpxEWgOhzqjLc4kQJ6kwYJzx3e4RLo5jnMSs1Li2WUkx1-bFKQDxD9roxyIlSo5RndD-2_xBYMH3ooEQOBDiYlK9y_O3Y0D2GgV87zkbrti7zdwWVpm4SFG/s320/PeaceOfficerMemorial2010Front.jpg" width="206" wt="true" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Front of Program</td></tr>
</tbody></table><div style="text-align: left;"></div><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgbrTaODqzfhbabAc6KASdruN_T4AaXAq0FFcfvkL8pA4XE3b9J3qQCX_pIfgsj1fLWZts6sdqAVjWayfWkGIOUTuKMCL5ZmRmXRkXeXdmBY2NHgO0pxQNhMxMy3ejrICw52KoQSLQCDbus/s1600/PeaceOfficerMemorial2010Inside.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="292" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgbrTaODqzfhbabAc6KASdruN_T4AaXAq0FFcfvkL8pA4XE3b9J3qQCX_pIfgsj1fLWZts6sdqAVjWayfWkGIOUTuKMCL5ZmRmXRkXeXdmBY2NHgO0pxQNhMxMy3ejrICw52KoQSLQCDbus/s400/PeaceOfficerMemorial2010Inside.jpg" tt="true" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"> Program For Law Enforcement<br />
Memorial Service<br />
<div align="center"><br />
</div><div align="center"><br />
</div></td></tr>
</tbody></table><table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: left; margin-right: 1em; text-align: left;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEht8Wv83ZhuslYoucy3iNk-MULZawquZc_jCKeB-dvdNX3BSBvsCeayXPjeNHhzHbM-_0BqA5qjO1MAUnsQDDoMPXAzbXuaTmIxmfmbU1lO3eiC652IhgW4PqJuZXzucRg3KKJN3b2YdefU/s1600/Law%20Enforcement%20Memorial,%20May%202010%20004.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; cssfloat: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEht8Wv83ZhuslYoucy3iNk-MULZawquZc_jCKeB-dvdNX3BSBvsCeayXPjeNHhzHbM-_0BqA5qjO1MAUnsQDDoMPXAzbXuaTmIxmfmbU1lO3eiC652IhgW4PqJuZXzucRg3KKJN3b2YdefU/s320/Law%20Enforcement%20Memorial,%20May%202010%20004.jpg" width="224" wt="true" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Flap Pole in front of Garrison Center,<br />
location of Memorial Service</td></tr>
</tbody></table><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: right; margin-left: 1em; text-align: right;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjj_rEPPVGnJV4xLNANarpfeb0g116i0ZxMBDHgqTpQirRMSyRAmWiPBzM8_61tcte9aEA-wks0LeWvNU4Ht1TWOQUSKQKGhZRD9TS0l8aDdhOpr3LGLUqiOLAajj20V5SOobA_N8Saepza/s1600/Law%20Enforcement%20Memorial,%20May%202010%20005.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="245" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjj_rEPPVGnJV4xLNANarpfeb0g116i0ZxMBDHgqTpQirRMSyRAmWiPBzM8_61tcte9aEA-wks0LeWvNU4Ht1TWOQUSKQKGhZRD9TS0l8aDdhOpr3LGLUqiOLAajj20V5SOobA_N8Saepza/s320/Law%20Enforcement%20Memorial,%20May%202010%20005.jpg" tt="true" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">L to R: Retired <span class="goog-spellcheck-word">APD</span> Officer Richard Valdez,<br />
J. Bryan <span class="goog-spellcheck-word">Wasson</span>; Abilene Chief of Police Stan <span class="goog-spellcheck-word">Standrige</span></td></tr>
</tbody></table><table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: left; margin-right: 1em; text-align: left;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiT6PCiEWa5q4BHKgLE79j62k_VRJ-hvkjqihC__EFpi2SShVaFgaRqdDU-ghSK2vjKO-tA3XU5R_pH3BUrM4a-4UQ6ewm6gKKwAE9uSNqj9jiPei9NSxOKI1rTtRSWjvwlKoaliWfccYxK/s1600/Police%20Memorial%202010%20005.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; cssfloat: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiT6PCiEWa5q4BHKgLE79j62k_VRJ-hvkjqihC__EFpi2SShVaFgaRqdDU-ghSK2vjKO-tA3XU5R_pH3BUrM4a-4UQ6ewm6gKKwAE9uSNqj9jiPei9NSxOKI1rTtRSWjvwlKoaliWfccYxK/s320/Police%20Memorial%202010%20005.jpg" tt="true" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Officer Jim Davis, son of long time dear friend, <br />
the late <span class="goog-spellcheck-word">APD</span> Sgt. Bill Davis;<br />
Jim also has a son on the Abilene Police Force;<br />
When he graduated from the Abilene Police Academy,<br />
Jim pinned Bill Davis' badge on him.<br />
(Photo by Richard Valdez)<br />
<br />
</td></tr>
</tbody></table><div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;"><br />
</div></div><div class="separator" style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none; clear: both; text-align: center;"></div><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: right; margin-left: 1em; text-align: right;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiqZp23-DnFClEwFJ7KoNj5__HzUSM6NxbM1Leenm6PhZ6n70wD3GUOuZfNxr5DQV7YQ6u0bWEWG4GuB9gzMiMnYh74nkD7lu58QuInVpMGdEw24c4cyceBgw7sqLB9qTndwfpbBQ_r05WO/s1600/Law+Enforcement+Memorial,+May+2010+013.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="219" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiqZp23-DnFClEwFJ7KoNj5__HzUSM6NxbM1Leenm6PhZ6n70wD3GUOuZfNxr5DQV7YQ6u0bWEWG4GuB9gzMiMnYh74nkD7lu58QuInVpMGdEw24c4cyceBgw7sqLB9qTndwfpbBQ_r05WO/s320/Law+Enforcement+Memorial,+May+2010+013.jpg" tt="true" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span class="goog-spellcheck-word">APD</span> Chaplin Donna <span class="goog-spellcheck-word">Kleman</span>, Motor Officer Mike Richer</td></tr>
</tbody></table><div class="separator" style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none; clear: both; text-align: center;"></div><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: left; margin-right: 1em; text-align: left;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjFXJ0YWEAb6yJYYdNXzDqitEFRiy5v9T3VxYWF3uD_ObR71bGA-5q-FoLiZoXl-6Ew7eoEATswrWBOjojIklRC6N8pzFj6DJfcwGfbFjOC8LnSa8A6VTxnWM-ApNaMvV_emrbfhgHLJos0/s1600/Law%20Enforcement%20Memorial,%20May%202010%20012.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="212" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjFXJ0YWEAb6yJYYdNXzDqitEFRiy5v9T3VxYWF3uD_ObR71bGA-5q-FoLiZoXl-6Ew7eoEATswrWBOjojIklRC6N8pzFj6DJfcwGfbFjOC8LnSa8A6VTxnWM-ApNaMvV_emrbfhgHLJos0/s320/Law%20Enforcement%20Memorial,%20May%202010%20012.jpg" tt="true" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Motor Officer War Stories:<br />
L T R: Mike <span class="goog-spellcheck-word">Ricker</span>, Terry Monroe, J. Bryan <span class="goog-spellcheck-word">Wasson</span></td></tr>
</tbody></table><table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: right; margin-left: 1em; text-align: right;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhdVO2YPArfsUrwoonKs3q3Ym6POHlVGyen3yOO_fO5VytrfgUQ5_XRQ8e5Zz6Ofajr1rcNqYiTJyQx2CtRvU6yctsuaWNy_9z4rTrU9Gf4cgzc4EhHeKPNHyXwxCW-mAnuw4rST5ir5wEh/s1600/Police+Memorial+2010+006.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; cssfloat: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhdVO2YPArfsUrwoonKs3q3Ym6POHlVGyen3yOO_fO5VytrfgUQ5_XRQ8e5Zz6Ofajr1rcNqYiTJyQx2CtRvU6yctsuaWNy_9z4rTrU9Gf4cgzc4EhHeKPNHyXwxCW-mAnuw4rST5ir5wEh/s320/Police+Memorial+2010+006.jpg" tt="true" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Myself and my bride of 54 years enter the Garrison<br />
Center for the Law Enforcement Memorial Service<br />
(Photo Courtesy, Richard Valdez)<br />
<br />
</td></tr>
</tbody></table><div class="separator" style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none; clear: both; text-align: center;"></div><div style="text-align: left;"></div><br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div><div class="separator" style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none; clear: both; text-align: center;"></div><table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: left; margin-right: 1em; text-align: left;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEifiYfwHhXFvaq_MdCFBc9Gx-MRuRGnONYBOrlI-c-0qHhIrPJYlfwhi9gi0PszoZVVDrKPjI65B2m02L3GsdBjkmN16j6BDRJYiQ_mpbxP8vWtHiohFx1oXNRzj1iHbof_3A4mEX4BSjMm/s1600/Rodney+Holder.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="264" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEifiYfwHhXFvaq_MdCFBc9Gx-MRuRGnONYBOrlI-c-0qHhIrPJYlfwhi9gi0PszoZVVDrKPjI65B2m02L3GsdBjkmN16j6BDRJYiQ_mpbxP8vWtHiohFx1oXNRzj1iHbof_3A4mEX4BSjMm/s320/Rodney+Holder.jpg" tt="true" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Abilene Police Department Motor Officer, Rodney Holder;<br />
End of Watch, April 29, 2010<br />
<br />
<br />
<strong><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: small;">Military Law Enforcement - USAF Security Forces</span></span></strong><br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgaN2LsueYeBaNHvSTBdG6FwC1-wNXccJEDC3kZwRRgZsWYc7fM7RtzOo1HwLjc2hdvgtQxyt1xRhdoH2N49s4oCVrmT0vtqPermS7VCztxU1ZLGK0tka4PBE9zXyXPLRAUDjsPfTlS6_vN/s1600/USAF+Badge.BMP" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><strong><span style="font-size: large;"><img border="0" height="200" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgaN2LsueYeBaNHvSTBdG6FwC1-wNXccJEDC3kZwRRgZsWYc7fM7RtzOo1HwLjc2hdvgtQxyt1xRhdoH2N49s4oCVrmT0vtqPermS7VCztxU1ZLGK0tka4PBE9zXyXPLRAUDjsPfTlS6_vN/s200/USAF+Badge.BMP" tt="true" width="135" /></span></strong></a></div><br />
<div align="center">1st Lt. Joseph D. <span class="goog-spellcheck-word">Heltton</span>, USAF Security Forces</div><div align="center">End of Watch: Sept. 8, 2009</div><div align="justify"><br />
</div><div align="justify">This year fallen Military Law Enforcement Officers were honored. To the best of my knowledge, this was the first time military law enforcement was included in this memorial service. An Officer from <span class="goog-spellcheck-word">Dyess</span> AFB 7th Security Forces Squadron was on the program. Police cars from <span class="goog-spellcheck-word">Dyess</span> AFB Security Forces also participated in the funeral procession of Motor Officer Rodney Holder. I appreciate the participation by and the honoring of fallen military law enforcement officers as my own law enforcement career started in the US Air Force in what was then known as Air Police and is now known as Security Forces. I once wore the badge pictured above with the wording, "Air Police" rather than, "Security Police. While a member of the Abilene Police Department, I was also in the Air Force Reserve and assigned to the Base Police Squadron at <span class="goog-spellcheck-word">Dyess</span>, AFB.</div><div align="justify"><br />
</div><div align="justify"><strong>This Memorial Service could not have occurred without the hard work of <span class="goog-spellcheck-word">APD</span> Chaplin Donna <span class="goog-spellcheck-word">Kleman</span>. She is known to most people as Chaplin Donna. She had lots of help including Chaplins from other Departments, but my hat is off to Chaplin Donna. Surely God sent her to do a special work. Many thanks to McMurry University and to many members of the McMurry Staff for hosting the 2010 Law Enforcement Officer Memorial Service.</strong></div><div align="justify"><br />
</div><div align="justify"><br />
</div><div align="justify">************************************************************<strong>**************************************</strong></div><div align="justify"><span style="font-size: large;"><strong>(Special Note:) Tuesday, May 11, 2010</strong> </span><br />
<span style="font-size: small;">APD Mourns the Loss Of Another Officer</span><br />
<br />
<div align="center"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjoXbtngPQ-GsNfEqYzcvpefhPEdBPE9JMYP-V3t5oVJo_w3t-XnxttqAObYESV0uqkPHjqvnnj1ZZYGKeK8oF5A_v8c_g6UyftCSsFGVyzI8ds1CQZkkwa92bHIIoEeDuHW4GchqDZNywL/s1600/d%20Burns,%20APD.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjoXbtngPQ-GsNfEqYzcvpefhPEdBPE9JMYP-V3t5oVJo_w3t-XnxttqAObYESV0uqkPHjqvnnj1ZZYGKeK8oF5A_v8c_g6UyftCSsFGVyzI8ds1CQZkkwa92bHIIoEeDuHW4GchqDZNywL/s1600/d%20Burns,%20APD.jpg" wt="true" /></a></div><div align="center">Officer Boyd Burns</div><strong>I have been informed that Officer Boyd Burns, a 25 year veteran of the Abilene Police Department, passed away last night at his residence in <span class="goog-spellcheck-word">Potosi</span>. No indications of anything other than natural causes were present at the residence. One source advised that it was believed to be the result of a heart attack. </strong></div><br />
<br />
<br />
*****************************************************<br />
<strong><span style="font-size: small;">Wichita Falls, Texas</span></strong><br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhTAHq5fkBH9Ignjz-u0LNS_zdtkD4FCfhNadfx8nRf4XBIveheVqN6Fd52VshFms6V3fLDHVbOfrRDobsdGVXmdQlEya2OcLbNbVat-zs2Vv3msgE3us_BqIV70uIcK7Hmvewlp1rruFAB/s1600/patch+Wichita+Falls+PD.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="200" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhTAHq5fkBH9Ignjz-u0LNS_zdtkD4FCfhNadfx8nRf4XBIveheVqN6Fd52VshFms6V3fLDHVbOfrRDobsdGVXmdQlEya2OcLbNbVat-zs2Vv3msgE3us_BqIV70uIcK7Hmvewlp1rruFAB/s200/patch+Wichita+Falls+PD.jpg" tt="true" width="200" /></a></div><br />
<div align="justify"><div align="justify">The W<span class="goog-spellcheck-word">ichita</span> Falls Police Department conducted a <span class="goog-spellcheck-word">Mem</span><span class="goog-spellcheck-word">orial</span> Service for fallen Wichita Falls Police Officers on May 10, 2010. Six fallen officers were honored. The name of Motor Officer Hugh Fuller was added to the Memorial Stone in front of the Wichita Falls Police Department building the previous day. Officer Fuller died on October 22, 1927 while responding to a motor vehicle traffic accident at 9th & Bluff.<br />
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<div align="center"><strong><span style="font-size: small;">Bowie, Texas</span></strong></div><br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjShnFEsml75J3wqNOAh9HfYH80-3sNTHEWvgyVt1bCbeEZcSRtJjNKS0RN4OEkvw7nZ5GNuSt-7-1AqprXcdMT10xm4X5W-_fAVA2AfvEwMzVI_C01MIgcFGh1lg7hU0RppNev8_BlRAI3/s1600/BPD+Patch+-David+Scruggs.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; cssfloat: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="200" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjShnFEsml75J3wqNOAh9HfYH80-3sNTHEWvgyVt1bCbeEZcSRtJjNKS0RN4OEkvw7nZ5GNuSt-7-1AqprXcdMT10xm4X5W-_fAVA2AfvEwMzVI_C01MIgcFGh1lg7hU0RppNev8_BlRAI3/s200/BPD+Patch+-David+Scruggs.jpg" tt="true" width="181" /></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh-XbWQH-tfVEYC2MQ7Os4FzY61aay47ltp8sg_Mlt7WubhG8uueOubhVyjaGwOOQGrzJqRQpDQ5yWWATBX55Uq552s0knBjckq8pD7s4UkQZkw8Wz7tkvsrVt7q5hMT1J088NyJhSNwGot/s1600/BPD+Badge+2139.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="cssfloat: right; margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="200" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh-XbWQH-tfVEYC2MQ7Os4FzY61aay47ltp8sg_Mlt7WubhG8uueOubhVyjaGwOOQGrzJqRQpDQ5yWWATBX55Uq552s0knBjckq8pD7s4UkQZkw8Wz7tkvsrVt7q5hMT1J088NyJhSNwGot/s200/BPD+Badge+2139.jpg" tt="true" width="160" /></a></div></div></div></td></tr>
</tbody></table><div style="text-align: justify;">At present time, I live in Bowie, Texas. To the best of my knowledge, the Bowie Police Department under Chief David Scruggs, is the only law enforcement agency that honors fallen officers by stars on the badge. Note: The two stars at the bottom of the badge in photo at right above.<br />
The two fallen Bowie, Texas Officers are:<br />
William H. (Jack) Hill, EOE July 6, 1932<br />
Tommy L. Roland, EOW: June 4, 1959</div><br />
<strong><span style="font-size: x-small;">May 11, 2010, <span class="goog-spellcheck-word">JBW</span></span></strong><br />
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<strong><span style="font-size: x-small;">Wasson's Looking Back</span></strong><br />
<strong><span style="font-size: x-small;">Looking Back by J. Bryan Wasson</span></strong><br />
<strong><span style="font-size: x-small;">Looking Back</span></strong><br />
<strong><span style="font-size: x-small;">J. Bryan Wasson</span></strong>J. Bryan Wassonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08053719892515465613noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6780624211867831421.post-44802926454783094042010-04-21T12:03:00.000-07:002010-04-22T13:47:05.812-07:00Anniversary of Bombing of Alfred P. Murrah Federal Building<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiG20D5zfwxuv9abFxnAms72X77-pv3CZYSOLv7PkkoALjsPLeUUvD6OHo1txAAveRyW0XX2oAvRdcs-DRJr62H6J_IR_l7LFeLCYbML43LmLWeq8Em8tL1-uRAVSyrbQgg-7xdBaL75N2F/s1600/U.S.+DOT+Patch.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="196" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiG20D5zfwxuv9abFxnAms72X77-pv3CZYSOLv7PkkoALjsPLeUUvD6OHo1txAAveRyW0XX2oAvRdcs-DRJr62H6J_IR_l7LFeLCYbML43LmLWeq8Em8tL1-uRAVSyrbQgg-7xdBaL75N2F/s200/U.S.+DOT+Patch.jpg" width="200" wt="true" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEga0w37Vek4R3EulxuMwF7kxFmuRCiquCw50GKZvtRAvdAnx6qFvHEBNdLfywJikGsJONhuCpQe9o5BdA65v-qZvWQTrcZnhsurVpDmmKvt7aJgdGUE9_cOdY8vy9DPLwPbSScuoL5_Scns/s1600/Carillo,Rick+Tomlin,+John+Youngblood+A.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="295" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEga0w37Vek4R3EulxuMwF7kxFmuRCiquCw50GKZvtRAvdAnx6qFvHEBNdLfywJikGsJONhuCpQe9o5BdA65v-qZvWQTrcZnhsurVpDmmKvt7aJgdGUE9_cOdY8vy9DPLwPbSScuoL5_Scns/s400/Carillo,Rick+Tomlin,+John+Youngblood+A.jpg" width="400" wt="true" /></a></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: large;">Anniversary of Bombing of Alfred P. Murrah Federal Building</span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: large;"></span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><br />
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Monday, April 19, 2010 was the 15th anniversary of the bombing of the Alfred P Murrah Federal Building in Oklahoma City, Oklahoma. The act of domestic terrorism was an attack on the United States and a national disaster. It had a special and emotional significance to me. I lost two very close friends and an acquaintance in that bombing.<br />
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I was working at my desk in the Arkansas Division of the Office of Motor Carriers, U.S. Department of Transportation in Little Rock Arkansas when we were notified that the Alfred P. Murrah Federal Building in Oklahoma City had been bombed. It took a few seconds for it to sink into my brain, the seriousness of the information we had just learned.<br />
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Everyone in our office went down the hall to the office of Senator David Pryor in which we knew there was a television set. Federal employees from various offices in our building gathered around the television in Senator Pryor's office to watch as the information unfolded.<br />
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I no longer remember how long it was before we learned the names of those in the Oklahoma Division of OMC who had been killed.<br />
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At some point in time we received information that State Director, Mike Carrillo, and Division Program Specialist, Rick Tomlin had been killed. We were advised that John Youngblood was injured, was hospitalized as critical, but was still alive.<br />
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During the time I had been assigned in South Carolina, I had become close friends with a fellow Safety Investigator in the North Carolina Division, Rick Tomlin. A few motor carriers had offices in both North and South Carolina. Some of these companies attempted to circumvent Federal Regulations by providing false information related to the location of company records. If an agent went to the South Carolina office, they would claim that all there records were in North Carolina and visa versa. We often met at Rock Hill South Carolina or Charlotte North Carolina to deal with investigations related to these carriers.<br />
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A vacancy became open in the Oklahoma City Division. I was extremely interested in a transfer to Oklahoma City because it would be much closer to my home in Texas. Both Rick and I applied for the same position. When Rick was given this transfer, we had a little bit of friendly joking about it. At our Regional Conference following the announcement that Rick got the transfer, I told him that he was the best ex-friend I ever had. <br />
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Rick was talking to his wife on the telephone when the explosion occurred. She heard the explosion on the telephone then the phone line went dead. John Youngblood appeared to be improving, but died about three days after the blast.<br />
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The death of John Youngblood was extremely ironic. My friend John Youngblood was State Programs Manager and full time instructor at the Howard Motor Carrier Safety Academy of the Transportation Safety Institute (TSI) in Oklahoma City. John recruited me to the Associate Staff (Part Time instructor) at TSI when the Howard Motor Carrier safety Academy was pulled out of TSI and moved to the Washington DC area, John did not want to leave Oklahoma City. He chose to take a voluntary downgrade to a Safety investigator position in order to remain in Oklahoma City. He had only been in his new job for a short time when the Murrah Federal Building was bombed<br />
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Not long prior to this, I had taught a class on Compliance Reviews at the North Campus of TSI, the site of John's office. Although I was working for John while teaching this class, John sat in on the class as a student, in order to learn his new duties as a soon to be Safety Investigator when the transfer was completed.<br />
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Had John accepted the transfer to Washington, DC, he would most likely be alive today. Had I received the transfer to Oklahoma City that I wanted so desperately, I most likely would not be alive today.<br />
<strong><span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif; font-size: xx-small;">JBW, 04 -21- 2010</span></strong>J. Bryan Wassonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08053719892515465613noreply@blogger.com0