By Nancy Dowdy
Well here we are again in the middle of the night. Waking up full of guilt – you know, that moment after the alcohol wore off and you realize what a total disgrace you were. Every single time we feel bad. Every single time we say we won’t do it again… and then every single time we do. We take that first drink and it’s like or best friend found us again. We are funny. We are young. We are who we were before. Wait. There it is. Who was I – BEFORE?
By Vanessa Stapleton – President Armor Up West Virginia
Almost daily, I was made aware of an officer being injured or shot somewhere in the US. I am in many groups across the country where I would see the news of yet another officer critically injured. Being a wife and mother, I used to pray that these officer’s would survive. I imagined the spouse and children were an average family like us and prayed these officers would make it home to them. I was naive then. It wasn’t until our own shooting that I was awakened to the nightmare known as “after the shooting.”
By Vanessa Stapleton – President Armor Up West Virginia
Every Wednesday evening, I pull the trash can around the house to the street for pickup. Last Wednesday, I sat on my porch watching all my neighbors pull their trash down to the street to be picked up. As I watched each neighbor slowly drag their trash to the street, I went to pull my trash down as well. Actually, I went to tell my teenager to pull the trash to the street, but you get the idea. I sat back on my front porch looking at the trash cans lined down the street.
