PAX Centurion - March / April 2014

www.bppa.org PAX CENTURION • March/April 2014 • Page 13 Lest We Forget By Patrick Rose B oston Police Officers come from some of the most diverse back- grounds conceivable. We represent many countries and ethnic groups, we hail from California to Florida, from Texas to Maine and every state in between. We come to this job from various schools, the Armed Forces or a different career path. We each bring a host of different experiences and knowledge, some good some not so good. But, We all enter into this world of policing the same; with wide eyes and a feeling that we will change the world for the better. We come on with the belief that we can actually do some good in this world. For all of our cultural or physical differences, we have a lot in common when we start this career, full of ‘piss & vinegar’, biting at the bit to get out there and change the world, we hit the streets, spit-shined and rearing to go! Then some time goes by, slowly slipping away. Some of us get soured by the daily grind, twenty or thirty odd years of experiencing grief and sorrow, sadness and tears, even with the occasional thrills and happiness. Hours and hours of boredom interrupted by moments of sheer terror and amazement! Some of those bright eyed Officers of old become the grouch that looks at and refers to the new guy as ‘fresh paint’. Time takes its toll on some and the bright career becomes a job, simply a wage.  Then there are those, those that came on loving the job and still do after thirty years. The guy or gal that always wanted to be a cop. Just a cop walking the beat, doing the job, helping out someone in need, being there to get the ‘bad guy’. Sounds corny I know, but we all know it’s true. Whether that person started as a new kid or came on the job with some life experience, we all share something that cannot be explained to another only understood through our life experience of the same. No one truly understands a cop but another cop, just a fact of life. This article is about one of those guys, a Cop’s Cop, someone that never lost the love of the job but was taken all too soon. We work year in and year out only to be forgotten, to fade away in a distant foggy memory. It is unlike any other career on the face of this earth where one can impact so many for so long and be forgotten so soon.  However, once in a great while we are lucky enough to make a friend along the way. A true friend who happens to be a real Cop. One of those guys that always had a smile and loved being a cop. A person, a Cop that shouldn’t be forgotten, a Cop that I will always be proud to call my best friend and will not let his memory fade as others have. Edward R. Eagar Jr., born and raised in Southie. Eddie grew up in the City and like many others joined the Marines. He was Commissioned as an Officer and fought inVietnam along side many other Bostonians. As proud as he was to have become a Marine Corps Officer, Eddie was one of those guys mentioned above, a guy that just wanted to be a Cop, a Boston Cop. It’s no secret that he was politically connected, after all he used sit directly below the speaker of the house in the U.S.Congress as the head scribe. Some would have thought, you made it kid, a Marine Corps Officer, Head Scribe for Congress a decoratedVietnamVet, top of the world. No, Eddie wanted to be a Cop, a Boston Cop. He left the cushyWashington DC job and came back to Massachusetts. He joined the National Guard because he missed the Military and got a job working for the State. Then came his chance, a chance to become a Boston Cop, his dream job, he jumped at it! He wasn’t a kid and had some real world experience so he earned some instant respect especially for the way he handled himself and any problems that came his way. He worked his way over to MOP and always loved his job. Eddie met the love of his life Patti Murphy on the job. The two fell madly in Love and got married and were ferried across the Boston harbor by our very own Harbor Patrol, (every- thing in his life was Boston Police)! Patti kept the upper hand though always scoring better than Eddie on the promotional exams and worked her way up to Lieutenant Detective so Eddie did the only thing he could as a civil Service Sergeant and dropped a dime to be made a Deputy, (that’s supposed to be a funny, if you didn’t get it). Anyway, Eddie did get the top MOP job, those of us that have been around a few years all know that story, the Red Sox giveth the Red Sox taketh away LOL, sorry I digress. Eddie could be found morning, noon or night either working the city, training with the military of wining and dining Patti. The job, the military, Patti and his daughter Elizabeth were his true loves, not necessarily in that order. Eddie was never without a smile but did not suffer fools easily. He took no time to be politically correct when the truth needed to be told or someone needed to be set straight. He loved to ride his department motorcycle leading his Officers almost as much as his loved leading his National Guard Infantry Battalion on parade through the streets of Boston onVeteran’s Day. He loved hosting his annual St. Patrick’s Day Parade celebration for all at this home on Broadway, everyone was invited; on and off duty cops, friends and family alike it was always a great time. Whether it was cooking steaks in the yard or sharing a glass of wine in the parlor, Eddie loved company and people in general. Eddie was a highly decorated leader of men and deserved a lot of recognition but spent his life being just a regular guy! He was a guy that absolutely loved life and if you were his friend, you were the recipient of his unconditional friendship without reservation. This missive is not meant to be a biography or a late eulogy, it is only meant as a remembrance. A remembrance of a good man, a great friend and a damn good cop that was taken all too soon and all too young. Eddie passed away ten years ago on March 30, 2004 after suffering the effects of a horrible disease, of which he never publicly complained. His family and friends came together on March 30, 2014 to once again celebrate his life and share sto- ries. I just thought that Eddie and all the Eddies of our world should not be forgotten, so I share this missive with you all. As I look back upon all who have left us too soon, it reminds me of a poem, a poem that I think we should all remember and take a life lesson from it before it’s too late, it’s called:  Around The Corner. Around the corner I have a friend, In this great city that has no end, Yet the days go by and weeks rush on, And before I know it, a year is gone. And I never see my old friends face, For life is a swift and terrible race, He knows I like him just as well, As in the days when I rang his bell. And he rang mine but we were younger then, And now we are busy, tired men. Tired of playing a foolish game, Tired of trying to make a name. “Tomorrow” I say! “I will call on Jim Just to show that I’m think- ing of him”, But tomorrow comes and tomorrow goes, And distance between us grows and grows. Around the corner, yet miles away, “Here’s a telegram sir,”  “Jim died today. “And that’s what we get and deserve in the end. Around the corner, a vanished friend. Call that old friend today, stop by have a visit, share a coffee or beer, but make the call.