There's another side to the

issue of police brutality. Oh, I know the side that

claims that police officers are out of control and are

abusing suspects. Even Hillary Clinton, in her quest for

political power, has gotten into the act by recently

acting as judge, jury, and executioner, proclaiming that

four police officers under investigation are guilty of

murder.

Evidently, Hillary thinks

that a constitutionally mandated fair trial and a

presumption of "innocence until proven guilty"

isn't to be extended to police officers accused of

wrongdoing.

Undoubtedly, there are

police officers who abuse their authority and should be

held accountable. There are strict criminal and civil

penalties for renegade cops.

But what about police

officers who are the victims of brutality? What about

those who are injured, or worse, by the lawbreakers who

prey upon and plague society?

Over 65,000 cops will be

injured each and every year in altercations with

"alleged" criminals. Of those, nearly 200 will

die, some of them in our very own state. Where are the

Hillarys demanding justice for the injured, maimed and

murdered police officers?

A few years ago, I was

awakened from a sound sleep about 2 a.m. The female voice

on the other end said, "Is this Mr. David

Epps?"

"Yes, it is. How may I

help you," I said groggily.

"Is this the Mr. David

Epps who has a son named John who is a patrolman for the

Senoia Police Department?" she said in an overly

official tone.

She had my full attention.

I bolted upright in the bed and demanded, "Who is

this?"

"This is the emergency

services dispatcher, sir. Can you come to the hospital,

sir?"

Suddenly terrified, I said,

"What's wrong with John?"

"Can you come to the

emergency room, sir?" she asked again.

and wide-eyed. "Listen," I said shakily,

"I need to know if John is all right. I'm a police

chaplain and police officer. Tell me the situation right

now, please!" Every fear I'd ever had about police

work rose to the surface that night.

The woman replied,

"John is okay, sir. He's been injured, but he's all

right. He will need you to drive him home."

I fought back tears of

thankfulness as I drove to the hospital that dark and

foggy morning. John, my middle son, had been attacked,

from behind, by a person wielding a flashlight as he was

attempting to make an arrest on another individual.

Fortunately, John always did have a hard head.

Just last week, I received

another call as my wife and I were spending a few days in

Arkansas. Our daughter-in-law called to tell us that our

oldest son, Jason, a detective with the Peachtree City

Police Department, had been injured in assisting in an

arrest of an "alleged" criminal. After the

"alleged" bad guy was safely tucked away in the

patrol car, my son was taken away in an ambulance.

This week, I sat in the

hospital waiting room as doctors worked over four hours

reconstructing my son's severely damaged shoulder. The

surgeon said that the ligaments and tendons had been

"shredded" and that, when he made the incision

in my son's shoulder, the collar bone just "popped

up through the skin."

Later, in the recovery

room, I saw the agony on his face as the pain medication

began to wear off. He has a metal wire protruding from

his arm as the wire keeps his shoulder immobile.

He'll become very familiar

with ice bags and pain medication over the next several

days. The wire will be removed in three weeks... maybe.

And maybe the shredded

material in his arm will be as good as new. Maybe his

shoulder will fully recover. Maybe he will be able to

return to full duty in less than three months. Maybe he

will not develop long-term problems in his right shoulder

as he grows older.

Maybe someone can wipe the

tears out of the eyes of his children, ages 3 and 5, and

explain to them why daddy can't pick them up and hold

them tonight. Maybe someone can calm an incredibly sweet

and supportive wife or a worried mother who fear for the

safety of the cops in their lives. Maybe someone can take

the hurt out of a father's heart when his sons are

damaged by people who insist on (allegedly) violating

society's rules and (allegedly) turn their violence on

society's protectors.

Or maybe society just

doesn't care about cops, the dangers they face, or the

sacrifices they make.

Tonight, over 178 police

officers in these United States will be assaulted by

"alleged" criminals. Before this time comes

again next week, as many as four of them will die

protecting those who work, or play, or sleep.

And tonight and every

night, all over the country, small children will pray to

God on behalf of their police parent. It will be a simple

and forthright prayer, devoid of eloquence or theological

profundities. The only thing they will ask of God is that

Daddy or Mommy can, please... just please... come home.

[David Epps

is rector of Christ the King Church. The church meets at

10 a.m. in the chapel of Carmichael-Hemperley on Ga.

Highway 74 in Peachtree City. He may be contacted online

at [email protected] .]