Some were enjoying Sunday morning brunch. Others slept late. Many were at church, praying for peace. Then they heard the unthinkable: Baton Rouge police officers down.
It was just one day after the funeral service for the last of five slain Dallas police officers, Patrick Zamarripa, on Saturday, and one day after Alton Sterling’s funeral in Baton Rouge.
Like many of you, I am in a daze. The senseless violence feels like a sad movie, with its repeating plot and no ending. We are locked in a national drama that continues to produce grief and nonstop tears. More funerals are in our future. Two American cities are now linked by tragedy, two cities that are near and dear to my broken heart.
Moments before the red-and-white breaking-news colors interrupted planned coverage of the convention in Cleveland, I had just received word from a cousin in Louisiana about a death in the family. Several kinfolk were hoping I could make it there for the funeral of an aunt. As I tried to focus on how to answer, two of the most dreaded words ever uttered by, and about, law enforcement personnel, appeared on my TV screen: Officers down.
I was born in Texas, grew up in Louisiana. I walked those same Baton Rouge streets as a young communications student. It is a beautiful city filled with beautiful people who would share their last meal with you. I am doubly heartbroken, for Dallas and now Baton Rouge. This violence doesn’t solve anything.
Weeping for the two states I love, sending condolences to all the families crying for loved ones, gunned down in Dallas, gunned down in Baton Rouge.
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Joyce King is a writer in Texas and the author of several books. She is a special contributor to the Dallas Morning News.