My Dumb Observations

Odd thoughts come to mind while reflecting on the passing of a friend one year ago. Some believe not everyone is called to be on the planet a long time. Of course, whenever a person in his early 50's passes, it's hard to avoid thoughts of "too soon." But Howie was an outlier. Both personally and professionally, Howie sailed rogue in a world divided by labels, conjuring his Brooklyn birthright to adapt in anyone's company. Nicknamed Triple H by fellow cops, he could be observed clocking out from a double shift with little sleep, or brown-baggin' a beer with flag waving colleagues, or seen donning a helmet to ride with his crew of urban motorcycle enthusiasts, often in the same day! Super cool, Howie's persona fit the stereotype of his appearance; like a lab-made hybrid of Barry White and Issac Hayes without the velvet notes or Kung Fu moves, but that never stopped him. Always the quiet charmer, Triple H would head back to his locker after roll call to spor...

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 h...