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Count your blessings, love your children TO THE EDITOR: When I was working as a police officer in Durhan, N.C., in 1983, I got a call on Thanksgiving night in reference to a missing person. I took the call and arrived at a typical East Durham shanty house. My sergeant Ricky Carr also showed up. I knocked on the door. It was answered by a man who was obviously drunk. He was staggering as he invited me into a living room that was empty with the exception of a mattress, a television, clothes scattered on the floor, and three children huddled in one blanket. It was cold inside. I listened with disgust to the drunk's complaint about how the children's mother had gone out and not come back. I looked at those scared, beautiful eyes - brown eyes, accented by dark skin - so innocent. I smelled his rotten, stinking breath. What kind of chance did these children have? A foundation on sand - surely it was destined to fall. I sat the drunk on his mattress. I told him to get some sleep and that I would come back later to check on the children. We had to andwer another call - there was a fight down the street. I hoped that I would be able to come back sometime tonight. It seemed like it was going to be a busy shift. At 11 p.m. I finally got a break. Our district, had been hopping since the shift began. We hadn't even had time to munch on all the food left over from day shift's Thanksgiving dinner. There was turkey, ham, stuffing, potatoes, cakes ... the works. I looked at all that food and all I could see were three little faces surrounded by an old green blanket. I had to get them. I went to the door and listened. All I could hear was the TV playing. I slowly opened the door. The drunk had passed out and was snoring with his mouth open. The kids were all awake, still cuddled in the blanket. I smiled at those wondering faces. They returned my smile. I motioned for the children to come with me, but to be very quiet. Two girls, probably about two and five years of age, and their brother about 7, sprang to their feet. I picked up the baby girl and led the children to my patrol car. However, the moment I walked into the station, the fire alarm sounded. The City of Durham is Public Safety, which meant we were both policemen andfFiremen. I told the kids to eat all the food they wanted and that we would be back in a little while. When I returned about two hours later, all three children were asleep on the couch. At 2 a.m., with a heavy heart, I loaded the children back into my police car to return them to their home. Count your blessings. Love your children. Happy Thanksgiving.
TOM URBAN
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