My Dumb Observations

Pedaling down the boardwalk on an overcast July morning, I glanced toward the fishing pier in the distance. The threat of rain on this Sunday kept many away from the beach, but over one hundred people were clustered   on the east end of the pier. Cycling past the NYPD ceremonial unit in their white gloves, I knew everyone was gathered to say goodbye to Jason. Overcome by the support for our departed friend and holding back tears; I gazed toward the tumultuous sky knowing Jay’s journey was stirring the heavens already. An avid fisherman, Jason was no stranger to the pier.   In fact, many boardwalk regulars recognized him. Between his intense charisma, his fishing skills and his tattooed appearance, Jay was a memorable figure. Generally soft spoken, I always appreciated how energetic Jay would become when he discussed his hobbies. I knew Jason years before his ink and his custom fishing rods; before he was hired as a police officer, and before his injuries would isolate him to the