WOW

Tom became a friend of mine when he married my wife's best friend, Kathy. He had just retired from the New York Police Department as a Lieutenant after serving many years as the head of the WOW unit ... standing for the "worst of the worst". And this meant that this special unit's job was to track down and capture violent felons who had jumped bail. This was not a job with a long life expectancy, but Tom was a street-smart New Yorker and, not only did he survive, but he never lost one man in his unit.

One of the things that drew me to this person, besides his dauntless courage, was his story-telling ability. He could spin out an endless series of his on-the-job experiences ... keeping his audience on the edge of their seats. He always had a fresh and fascinating daring-do to relate and he made you feel like you were with him on this bust. Why am I relating all this? Because Tom tragically died yesterday of an unheroic illness, sepsis ... well before he should have ... well before he had done all the things he wanted to do with his retirement.

And so to honor him, I think I would like to try to remember and relate one of his neat stories about a WOW adventure:

They were given an old grainy photo of a violent felon, his name, and the name and address of one of his previous girlfriends. So off they went to her apartment and were greeted with a torrent of hostility. This woman denied knowing him with a m..f.. this and m..f.. that ... she directing a unbroken series of other invectives at Tom and his men in blue.

Reliazing that they were getting nowhere, they then left this harpy to go back to their patrol cars. Halfway there, they saw a man walking their way who looked vaguely familiar and, calling out his name, he turned and bolted (to his regret) ... and was quickly nabbed. Cuffed and walking him back to their cars, they encountered the previously-mentioned potty-mouth hanging out of her third story window. Tom, to extract a tad of revenge for her former hostility, shouted up to her, "Thanks, we got him! Thanks for your help!"

Once in the squad car, the perp turned to Tom and said (in argot), "She didn't rat me out! I know she wouldn't do that!" To which Tom showed him the old photo and said, "Do you think we could recognize you just with this photo?" The wanted felon then fell silent ... and Tom quietly relished imagining what this couples next meeting would be like.

There were dozens more stories like this one. I wish I could remember them all.

R.I.P. Tom