I’ve mentioned here before that I am involved in search and rescue work. Specifically, I am a search and rescue canine handler on a local, state and national response level. Being a writer also, there is nothing I would like better than to take these SAR experiences, so rich with drama and real-life emotion, and spin the tales here for all to ponder and laugh and cry over with me. I think it would be therapuetic. It is one of life’s little ironies that this thing I would like most to write about is one of the few things that I can’t write about. In some cases, my reticence is out of respect for the privacy of the victims I interact with. Other times, the policies of the governmental agencies I support prohibit discussion. And sometimes the searches are part of an ongoing criminal investigation and must be kept confidential for legal reasons.
Today’s search was one of the latter. I wish I could talk to all of you about it detail. Instead I’ll just say I was harshly reminded today of two truths in life:
1) There are a lot of sick bastards out there, and
2) There but for the grace of God go I, my family or my friends.
‘Nuff said. Hug your loved ones tonight.
No writing today. It’s kind of tough to jump into a fantasy world after a reality check like this morning.
When I can, I’ll sort through my pictures of Hurricanes Dolly, Gustav and Ike which I responded to in 2008 and see if any would be okay to post.