THE FORGOTTEN COP
~ ~ ~
We are Correctional Officers, not Guards (who are people that watch school crossings).
We work at minimum, medium, and maximum security Correctional Facilities.

We are empowered by the State to enforce its Penal Laws, Rules, and Regulations of the Department of Correctional Services.

In short we are Policemen.

Our beat is totally inhabited by convicted felons who, by definition, are people who tend to break laws, rules, and regulations.

We are out numbered by as many as 50 to 1 at various times of our workday and contrary to popular belief, we work without a side arm.

In short, our necks are on the line every minute of every day.

A Correctional Facility is a very misunderstood environment.

The average person has very little knowledge of its workings.

Society sends it's criminals to Correctional Facilities and as time passes, each criminal’s crime fades from our memory until the collective prison population becomes hordes of bad people being warehoused away from decent society in a place where they can cause no further harm.

There is also the notion that prison inmates cease to be a problem when the are incarcerated.

Correctional Facilities are full of violence perpetrated by the prison population against the prison population and facility staff.

Felonies are committed daily but are rarely reported.

They are called "unusual incidents" and rarely result in criminal prosecution.

Discipline is handled internally and, as a rule, the public is rarely informed of these crimes.

In the course of maintaining order in these facilities, many Officers have endured the humiliation of having urine and feces thrown at them.

Uncounted Correctional Officers have been kicked, bitten, stabbed and slashed with home made weapons, taken hostage, murdered and even raped in the line of duty, all while being legally
mandated to maintain their Professional Composure and refraining from any retaliation which could be the basis for dismissal from service.

In addition to these obvious dangers, Correctional Officers face hidden dangers in the form of AIDS, Tuberculosis, Hepatitis B and C.

Courts are now imposing longer sentences and the prison population is increasing far beyond the systems designated capacity.

As the public demands more police on the street, governments everywhere are cutting police in prison where violence reins supreme, jeopardizing all those working behind prison walls.

Although you will never see us on "911" or "Top Cops" we are Law Enforcement Professionals.

We are the "FORGOTTEN COP," hidden from public view, doing a dangerous beat, hoping someday to receive the respect and approval from the public who "WE SILENTLY SERVE."

Author Unknown.

Unknown "Dirty Secret" Feisty - 16 years, 13 days ago

CORRECTIONAL OFFICER'S PRAYER
This poem was written in 2001 by Larry E. Peoples, a Correctional Officer Lieutenant for 21 years in the Florida Department of Corrections

Lord, when it's time to go inside,
That Place of steel and stone.
I pray that you will keep me safe,
So I won't walk alone.

Help me to do my duty,
Please watch me on my rounds.
Amongst those perilous places,
And slamming steel door sounds.

God, keep my fellow Officers
Well and free from harm.
Let them know I'll be there too,
Whenever there's alarm.

Above all when I walk my beat,
No matter where I roam.
Let me go back whence I came,
To family and home.
Unknown "Dirty Secret" Feisty - 16 years, 13 days ago

To my friends, our unsung heros...

When God Created Correctional Officers

When God was creating Correctional Officers, he was into his sixth day of overtime when an angel appeared and said, "You're doing a lot of fiddling around on this one."
And the Lord said, "Have you read the specs on this order? A Correctional Officers has to be able to run through galleries in the dark, scale walls, enter cells the health inspector wouldn't touch, and not wrinkle or dirty their uniform."
"While on duty, they have to be able to sit in a cage or at a desk all day, respond to emergencies, frisk yards for contraband, and testify in court the next day. They have to be in top physical condition at all times, running on black coffee and half eaten meals and they have to have six pairs of hands."
The angel shook her head slowly and said, "Six pairs of hands... No way!"
"It's not the hands that are causing me the problem," said the Lord, "it's the three pairs of eyes an officer has to have."
"That's on the standard model?" asked the angel.
The Lord nodded, "One pair sees through the bulge in a pocket before they ask "Do you have any weapons on you?" when they already know the answer and are silently wishing they had taken the accounting job. Another pair here in the side of their head for their partner's safety and another pair here in front that can look at a bleeding victim and say "You'll be alright." when they know it isn't true."
"Lord..." said the angel, touching his sleeve, "rest and work on it tomorrow."
"I can't," said the Lord, "I already have a model that can talk a 250 pound inmate into his cell without incident and feed a family of five on a Public Service paycheque."
The angel circled the model of the Correctional Officer very slowly, "Can it think?"
"You bet," said the Lord. "It can tell you the elements of a hundred crimes, recite CCRA violations in its sleep; detain; investigate; search a gang member in the yard in less time than it takes five learned judges to debate the legality of the policy and it still keeps its sense of humour. This officer also has phenomenal personal control, it can deal with crime scenes painted in blood; coax a confession from an inmate; deal with an inmate's family; and then be able to read in the daily paper how Correctional Officers aren't sensitive to the rights of convicted inmates."
Finally, the angel bent over and ran her finger across the cheek of the Correctional Officer. "There's a leak," she pronounced. "I told you that you were trying to put too much into this model."
"That's not a leak," said the Lord, "it's a tear."
"What's the tear for?" asked the angel.
"It's for the bottled-up emotions for fallen comrades; for commitment to that funny piece of cloth called the Canadian Flag; and for Justice."
"You're a genius," said the angel.
The Lord looked somber, "I didn't put it there..." said the Lord.


Unknown Author

Unknown "Dirty Secret" Feisty - 16 years, 13 days ago