A Tribute to Trooper Eddie…

Last week I was on the road.  My job takes me on the road a lot.  Sometimes traveling is nice for a change of scenery, but right now I wasn’t liking it much.  Driving from southern Maryland to New Jersey. I have made the trip a thousand times.  Today seemed no different than any of the others.

About half way between my home and my destination is one of these rest stop, restaurant, gas station plazas in the middle of the interstate that charges too much for everything, but is so convenient that you can’t pass it by. I am counting the minutes until I get there knowing I will stop for coffee and gas.

I wish I could say I was being really spiritual. Sometimes I am. The five hours on the road gives me time to listen to teachings I have missed or some good praise and worship tunes.  Not this morning. No, I was already wrapped up in the work I was going to be doing.

I come over the crest of a hill and there on the right side of the road is a state trooper with his lights flashing.  He has somebody pulled over.  As I drive by I notice what looks like a late-model sedan.  The state trooper is standing out front of the car with a lady.  I only get a slight glance, but it looks like he is standing there with a hand on her shoulder as they are both looking away from the road.

Didn’t think much more about it. I cross the Susquehanna River which is one of the most beautiful parts of the drive. The bridge is a good 100 feet above the water, and the best part is that I am only five miles from my coffee.

 

I pull in and park.  Feels good to get out of the car after over two hours of driving. I walk around a bit, stretch the legs, use the restroom, and head over to join the line at Starbucks.  As I am standing there trying to decide whether to just get the brew of the day or some overly sweet yet extremely good blend, a state trooper walks up. He seems unsure whether he wants to get in line. Our eyes catch and I say, “I’ll buy you one”.  All of my life I have felt that anybody who will put on a uniform everyday and is willing to die to protect me and my family is to be honored and respected.  It just seemed natural to offer to buy the man a cup of coffee.

He was a young man.  Maybe late 20s.  Stands about three inches taller than me.  Good shape.  Short cropped hair – probably a number two razor cut. He looked like he could hold his own in a fight and was big enough to be intimidating.  He joined me in line, and said, “Thanks, I could use one this morning.”

As usually happens when two guys meet that don’t know each other, we stand there in silence waiting for our turn.  Some people find this uncomfortable. I don’t and I didn’t sense the trooper did either.  After we ordered we stood together waiting for our coffee. I ended up choosing some high-calorie latte. He did “the same”.  I mentioned to him that I had seen a trooper a few miles back up the road with some lady pulled over. He said that was him.  I asked him what that was all about – speeding, break down, what?  Then he started to talk.

He told me this lady comes there regularly. You see, her husband was killed at that spot on the road. He had stopped to help somebody who had a flat tire and while he was changing the tire and 18-wheeler hit them.  Killed her husband and destroyed the car. The lady and kids he was helping were standing well off the road and were not hurt at all.

I could tell he was speaking from his heart and it was bothering him a little.  “Want to sit for a few?” I ask. We head over to the tables as he continues talking.  She comes there regularly, stops and stares.  He sees her often and when he does he pulls over and parks his car behind hers to protect her. The first few times he wasn’t sure what to do. He would walk up to her. Sometimes she will talk, but usually she is crying.  Today she was crying.

“So what do you do?” I asked.  He was hesitant to say. He told me he would probably get in trouble for what he does.  I told him I certainly wouldn’t report him. Made him smile.  He said that he walks up to her, puts his hand on her shoulder, and prays.  He prays for her and her three kids, he prays that God will heal her aching heart, he prays that God will protect her.

At this point the trooper is doing everything he can to fight back the tears, and, well, so am I. We must have been a scene. Two grown men sitting at the plaza, sipping lattes, and crying.  I asked him about himself. He has a wife and two kids. He knows that that lady could easily be his wife. He stops and helps people change tires all the time.

I told him this kind of goes against the traditional view of a state trooper. We tend to think of them as hard men and women. He explained how it is easy to get a hard heart in his line of work. However he tries to keep his heart soft.  It is easy to think everybody is a bad person, but they aren’t, he explains. There are a lot more good people out there than bad.

I told him I really appreciate what he does for me and my family. I ask him if I can share his story with others. He thinks about it and says, sure, but don’t use his real name. I told him I will call you Trooper Eddie.  He smiles and says that sounds good.  We say a short prayer together, then get up and walk out to our cars. I will probably never see Trooper Eddie again.

As I continue my drive, I think about what just happened.  Lots of things rush through my head.  The one word that keeps coming back to mind is compassion. Here is a man who is showing compassion to someone he doesn’t know. He is like the Samaritan who stops by the side of the road and helps.

To all the Trooper Eddies out there, I say thank you. Thank you for putting your life on the line every day. Thank you for standing between my family and those who want to harm us. Thank you for being there.

To this one Trooper Eddie, I say, your heart is in the right place.  You are a good man. May God bless you.