Bad news
Many years ago my grandfather sold his house, moved to a tiny retirement bungalow and then proceeded methodically to plan and realise his exit from life with the aid of an overdose of painkillers. This isn’t his story.

The police, alerted by a concerned neighbour, broke in and found him. It was summer, I was 19 and the only one at our family home when the police car came down the drive. Much of the detail has now faded with time and was anyway blurred by the numbness that accompanies such a visit. I remember the copper’s gentle sympathy and concern even now though.

He was almost apologetic when he said they needed a formal identification and would I go over to the house. I searched for the car keys; he looked at me and said “Don’t worry, I’ll give you a lift”. In the car he pulled out a pack of B&H, offered a much needed cigarette saying “We’re not supposed to smoke in these but who’s going to know.” When I sent us the wrong way he just grinned and did a three point turn on a roundabout. “That’s the beauty of driving one of these - everything’s legal”. He hung around while we did the formal stuff and while I rang my dad. He missed his break to drive me home again.

So this is about Gary, a stranger, who did his job with a kindness and humanity for which I’ll always be grateful.

[First post, please be gentle, sorry for lack of funnies etc]
( custardthehedgehog, Mon 9 May 2011, 12:24, 3 replies)

*click*
good story and nice to hear good stuff about police too
(Studentken is looking for motivation on, Mon 9 May 2011, 12:40, closed)

^^ this

( splorp ®, Mon 9 May 2011, 13:44, closed)

^this too,
well told. Sad that this was the best way for him to achieve his aim.
(sarcastic fringehead feet of clay, buns of steel, head of lettuce, Mon 9 May 2011, 17:48, closed)