I’m sitting here at my desk listening to sirens erupt every five minutes or so. Police sirens. Lots of them, crescendoing at first, then falling into silence.
This morning I stood on the street corner outside of my building watching police escort a somber-looking black stretch limo down the street. Despite the sunshine and spring weather finally upon us, it seemed like an ordinary day. But it wasn’t. It isn’t.
Today is one of many days this week that the city of Pittsburgh is remembering the three police officers who were gunned down on what seemed to be a routine call Saturday morning. They were shot at point blank by a very disturbed, very angry young man.
I felt sad watching those motorcycles go by. I still am, even though I don’t know the fallen or their familes. I guess it’s just one more reminder of how precious life is, how even strangers can be pulled together under both good and bad circumstances. I guess it isn’t just another Thursday.