PUSHING A POLICE CAR

A few days ago on my way to a friend’s house (where I was to improve his steadily

growing Jazz collection) I ran into a typically inimical rapports, that for some

god reason on this day were rather positively gaudy in their approach.

They did not ask us the customary questions like; where we were going, or

where we had been coming from or what was the destination of our little congregation.

Rather a smile - sudden genuine smile warmly greeted me and my unwilling companions whom later on after our little encounter - confessed to have just leaned on the car and did none of the pushing. Some miracle taking place on the M1 road. Some magic trick but this did not come from God nor was it magically dis-entombed this was man made a child of circumstance. For the minutes we were there we had managed to exchange, soft words and help and I even managed letting our guard down. I was not afraid of these two men of uniform. They were not there on 20 July following brutal orders - herring tear gas canisters into the crowd. Gun letting and ruining lives like psychopathy constraining mothers to bury their children. They were not the enemy I had always known the enemy I had feared and customary reviled.

On this day that ravenous dog inside had somehow been put on leach Its common lunacy Its marionette was for those few minutes subdued. It was given the little death - fed the sleep poison.

God was in our mist and the Devil had fled to his deep full of shame. Looking at them I realized that, all I wanted from these half angels was not their ounce of humility not their defiance to order by refusing to raise batons for their much-loved god.  Who was surely hell bent on shushing any insubordination showing its ugly head. Defying what was passed as law. All I wanted from these men was this person they had been compelled to become considering their little quagmire. A person wanting help.Pushing a police vehicle that would not start.