The Final Inspection

Today I attended the funeral for Officer Phillip Meacham, a 38 year old peace officer in Hopkinsville who leaves behind a young family.  Phillip was a high school classmate of mine, a professional colleague I worked with as a prosecutor, and he was the first officer (then a Deputy Sheriff) to respond to the farming accident that claimed the life of my father.

What I witnessed this morning was one of the most moving things I’ve ever seen. I was in the back of a section that seemed set aside mostly for those that weren’t law enforcement.  That seat allowed me to observe most of the CCHS Colonel gym. Not long after I was seated a procession of local law enforcement officers and their spouses began.  The line seemed to just keep going. And then I started seeing badges and shoulder patches that were unfamiliar.  The officers filled the rest of the gym floor, and one whole side of the stands. There was no music. There was no talking. Just quiet footsteps and silent observance of an incredible brotherhood. According to Pastor Ron Hicks, a Chaplain for the Hopkinsville Police Department and local minister, officers came not only from across Kentucky but from across the country.

That these silent sentinels would come to pay their respects, knowing they face the same risks, is an incredible tribute to the tightly knit fraternity of peace officers and their families.

Retired HPD Lieutenant Chris Aldridge, a high school classmate of Phillip’s and fellow officer, was one of the speakers during the service. He didn’t offer prepared remarks but rather a poem I felt compelled to look up and re-read tonight. I can find no author of this poem for attribution but it was too good not to pass it along below.

Please remember the Meacham family and the brotherhood of law enforcement officers in your prayers, and thank them for their service when you next see them.

"The Final Inspection"

The policeman stood and faced his God,
Which must always come to pass.
He hoped his shoes were shining.
Just as brightly as his brass.

"Step forward now, policeman.
How shall I deal with you? 
Have you always turned the other cheek?
To My church have you been true?"

The policeman squared his shoulders and said,
"No, Lord, I guess I ain't,
Because those of us who carry badges
can't always be a saint.

I've had to work most Sundays,
and at times my talk was rough,
and sometimes I've been violent,
Because the streets are awfully tough.

But I never took a penny,
That wasn't mine to keep....
Though I worked a lot of overtime
When the bills got just too steep.

And I never passed a cry for help,
Though at times I shook with fear.
And sometimes, God forgive me,
I've wept unmanly tears.

I know I don't deserve a place
Among the people here.
They never wanted me around
Except to calm their fear.

If you've a place for me here,
Lord, It needn't be so grand.
I never expected or had too much,
But if you don't.....I'll understand.

There was silence all around the throne
Where the saints had often trod.
As the policeman waited quietly,
For the judgment of his God.

"Step forward now, policeman,
You've borne your burdens well.
Come walk a beat on Heaven's streets,
You've done your time in hell."

Deception

There seems to be a great deal of confusion during this campaign season about the various groups that have gotten involved, either financially or with endorsements, with the races set to finish on November 4th.  This is particularly the case across Kentucky's House of Representative races – because this is the chamber of the legislature close to flipping control.  The Democrats hold an increasingly smaller edge in the House, as districts in the West (and elsewhere) begin to support more conservative candidates.

One of the organizations that routinely weighs in on legislation, and lobbies for policies they believe in is the Kentucky Family Foundation.  The Family Foundation is a policy shop that lobbies legislators on bills important to them and those who agree with the Foundation.  The Family Foundation does not spend money on campaigns or candidates.  The Family Foundation describes its Mission in part as follows:

“Since 1989, The Family Foundation has stood as a continual bulwark against values and policies that attempt to undermine the cherished status and integrity of the traditional family. Since its first “policy battle” over The Kentucky Education Reform Act (KERA) and its influence in passing the 2004 Marriage Amendment, The Family Foundation has obtained a formidable presence in Kentucky. The Family Foundation has helped pave the way for pregnancy care centers in Kentucky. And while a small organization, it has been the greatest obstacle to expanded casino gambling, an industry parasitic and destructive to its culture and constituents.”

— Kentucky Family Foundation - "Our Mission" excerpt

The Family Foundation is Christ-centered in all that it pursues.  This is their logo:

Kentucky Family Foundation – www.kentuckyfamily.org

Unfortunately, in recent years, another organization has been created that does not lobby or advise on policy at all, but rather does spend money on campaigns and candidates.  This group, known as the Kentucky Family Values PAC (Political Action Committee), is organized entirely differently and intentionally aims to influence elections (while claiming to support candidates and policies to stop that from being allowed).  This group, which is certainly legally entitled to exist and function, is trying to blur the lines for unsuspecting voters.  This group does not have a Christ-centered approach to anything and recites a number of vague policy points that sound pretty good, such as:

“Give Kentuckians of all ages the opportunity to succeed and live a full life in the best traditions of the Bluegrass State.”

— Kentucky Family Values PAC - "What We Stand For," second to last bullet point

Ironically, the Kentucky Family Values PAC endorses pro-choice candidates and expressly guides voters to "Vote No" for pro-life candidates.  "Give Kentuckians of all ages the opportunity..." unless they're still in their mother's womb.  The PAC also endorses gambling and casino legislation, and has taken money from facilities like Kentucky Downs to support candidates who vote their way.  While I disagree with gambling/casinos entirely, but I'm not faulting the PAC's existence.  My objection (which is shared by a great many others) is that the PAC is going out of its way to confuse and obfuscate voters.

The organizers chose a name that sounds like the Kentucky Family Foundation's name.  Of all the policies they do support (such as abortion and gambling/casinos) none of them are mentioned on their site or in their printed materials or in candidate-endosring radio spots.  It's all poll-tested tag lines about "protecting families."  The Family Foundation, on the other hand, clearly states its position on every issue it can (see here and check the righthand column of the page).  The PAC doesn't mention gay marriage (which its endorsed candidates support), abortion (ditto) or gambling/casinos (ditto).

Finally, the Kentucky Family Values PAC made an interesting logo choice:

Kentucky Family Values PAC

Now, scroll back up to the Kentucky Family Foundation logo.  Completely different, right?

As if campaigns weren't already challenging enough in getting the truth (and often a very complex truth) communicated in to the public, and as if elected officials weren't already fighting voter apathy (and as if voters aren't fighting campaign mud slinging fatigue), we have to contend with groups who are intentionally muddying the water to hide the ball long enough for their side to win.

If you hear Kentucky Family Values PAC, and you think you like what you hear, just be sure you know the truth about what they are and what they are not.

 I expect now for sure I'll be a target of theirs come 2016.

Until the War is Over

Back in May (2014), I made a trip to Frankfort to catch up with a school group that was taking a daylong field trip around the historic sites of the Capitol City.  The Heritage Christian Academy Warriors (4th graders) have made a trip up to the Capitol both years I've been in office, and like any other school group visiting during the interim (when I'm not already up there for session) if I can I make the trek to Frankfort too meet them.  I hate missing a chance to visit with school kids about the job I'm blessed to have — one of these kids from the district is going to have this job one day in the future!

I caught up with the group and took them to the Senate chamber and had a chance to talk to them for nearly 45 minutes.  They asked all kinds of questions and I gave all kinds of answers!  Since we had the room to ourselves and plenty of time, I explained a lot about the kind of things we do, good and bad.  One of the students asked if I had ever been scared doing my job.  Interesting question.  Easy answer.  Yes.

I've been nervous before, about speaking or carrying a bill on the floor, but those are just nerves about sounding stupid or saying something inaccurate or embarrassing.  Fear, on the hand, hasn't been felt nearly as often.  In fact, I can only think of one occasion.  Carrying Senate Bill 8, the "ultrasound bill," in the House Health & Welfare Committee.  The bill, just like others over the years before now, had come out of the Senate and died at the hands of a pro-choice Committee Chairman and pro-choice House leaders — some publicly and unabashedly, and others under cover of anonymity and secret, if not outright deceit.  This year, the bill had sat without a hearing in the House Health & Welfare Committee for over two months when a discharge petition was filed in the house.  A discharge petition, if passed by a simple majority (51 of 100), would remove the unheard bill from the Committee and bring it before the full House for a vote on the floor.  This year, despite 61 co-sponsors of a house bill that contained SB8 language, 49 democrats and a couple of republicans (many of whom brag on themselves for co-sponsoring the same kind of bill) either walked out on the discharge petition vote or simply failed to show up for it at all.  The petition failed to pass.  Naturally, the next move of House leadership was to hear the bill in Committee - it's an election year so they can't ignore the bill altogether.  That's where I come in.

The House Health & Welfare Committee is perceived, fairly or unfairly, as unfriendly territory for conservatives.  Liberals control the membership head count, and the tension between committee members of opposite ideologies is palpable and sometimes expressly shown.  Even the committee members themselves refer to the committee by its common nickname "Hell & Warfare."  This was the lions' den, and I was ordered to march in knowing legislative defeat was certain.

I approached my testimony with great fright, believing I would be attacked or my words twisted by the committee members or the media or both.  But I carried on. I presented the bill calmly and directly, explaining the bill didn't actually do anything to expressly restrict abortion at all (no matter how much I wish would).

My testimony fell on more deaf ears than not. Those who wish to protect abortion rights made half-true claims about the bill, and particularly galling was the act by two of the most fiercely prochoice members of the committee to make the initial motion and second for the bill to be voted on — they knew they had numbers.

I explained the situation as it unfolded (edited for time and content, of course)  to these school kids. I told them how scared I was of that meeting and the battle that would come my way.  It was at that moment when a young man raised his hand to ask this profound question:

So you fight until the war is over?

Yep.

A reporter politely asked me once why we (conservatives) keep fighting for prolife legislation when we know it will continue to be defeated.  We keep fighting because those lives should be protected, and we can't give up until they are.  I trust God's plan, regardless of the outcome.  He can *seal* the mouths of the lions!