Every year in May, thousands of law enforcement professionals descend for a week of ceremonies in DC. Legions of cops, in all shapes and sizes, on motorcycles and in antique cars, some with tattoos, some with kilts...they, their friends and family, all gather to pay tribute to lives lost in the line of duty. There are cycling events, motorcycle formations, and antique police car parades throughout town and the surrounding suburbs. At scheduled times, vigils and memorial services interrupt the frenzy.
In the afternoon and into the evenings, bagpiper cops in kilts travel the nearby bars and visit the giant beer tent near the National Law Enforcement Officers Memorial. They play their dirges as they enter. We turn and stop, raising our cups, bottles and cans. The pipes rest, and we toast. We drink because they can't. We drink to celebrate their bravery. Cheers to you and to those no longer with us.
Tuesday:
(Click
here to wave at the cyclists as they ride into town.)
Wednesday:
(Click
here to find shelter in the giant beer tent.)
I recognized a few of the faces from last year's ride, and enjoyed many new ones. Here are some of my favorites:
She began to paint again after keeping the canvas at bay for over a decade. It was a delight to meander through her projections...
Every year in May, thousands of law enforcement professionals descend for a week of ceremonies in DC. Legions of cops, in all shapes and sizes, on motorcycles and in antique cars, some with tattoos, some with kilts...they, their friends and family, all gather to pay tribute to lives lost in the line of duty. There are cycling events, motorcycle formations, and antique police car parades throughout town and the surrounding suburbs. At scheduled times, vigils and memorial services interrupt the frenzy.
In the afternoon and into the evenings, bagpiper cops in kilts travel the nearby bars and visit the giant beer tent near the National Law Enforcement Officers Memorial. They play their dirges as they enter. We turn and stop, raising our cups, bottles and cans. The pipes rest, and we toast. We drink because they can't. We drink to celebrate their bravery. Cheers to you and to those no longer with us.
After fulfilling nuclear family obligations, we met up with the rest (well, most of) the clan.
Miniature mermaids, of varying hues, watched over the cocktails last night as neighbors gathered at a recently finished patio-scape. They transformed their yard into a magical watering hole, and we gathered for a few hours to barter, and banter. We soaked our feet, and our lips. We waxed nostalgia under the full moon...reminiscing about our day in the sun.
