Christmas bells, Noel & Jail

“Do You Hear What I Hear?” is one of the most beloved songs of the Christmas season. The story of this simple plea for peace began, ironically, during World War II in war-torn France. Noel Regney was a young French musician who risked his life as a soldier in the French underground. The darkness and terror of those fearful years haunted him the rest of his life. After the war, he moved to the United States, where he found work composing jingles and music for TV. One day in a hotel dining room, Noel saw a beautiful woman playing the piano. Although he spoke little English and she spoke no French, he introduced himself to Gloria Shayne. Within a month they married. In the years that followed, the tensions of the Cold War grew, and Noel’s mind was often drawn back to the terrible days he had spent in combat. He wondered if the world would ever see peace. Noel’s (what an appropriate first name) thoughts turned to the very first Christmas—a sacred time of peace and promise. As he reflected, the lyrics of a song came to him. His young wife helped him. Thus was born the beautiful Christmas carol, “Do You Hear What I Hear?” When we hear this song, do we hear what Noel Regney wanted us to hear? The rendition of the song Noel liked best was one where the vocalist all but shouted the words “Pray for peace, people everywhere.” For him, that was the message of the song, for Noel believed that even in the darkness of fear and despair, the “child, sleeping in the night, He will bring us goodness and light. He will bring us goodness and light." Not everyone heeded nor lived by these lyrics. Each Christmas I can't help but remember my "cop-days" & working many Christmases and the varied contacts I had throughout a shift. Whether it was Christmas Eve with folks who came home to find their home had been burglarized and all the presents under the tree taken or torn open, to the family fights on Christmas Day that routinely & expectantly increased as the day went on.

Alcohol, despair, drugs or just their lack of values hardened their temperaments. Bah Humbug was more appropriate as I made many arrests on both Christmas Eve and Christmas Day. "But its Christmas, officer. Give me a break." I felt like Joe Friday sometimes, "The laws don't take a holiday, I've gotta work today, you chose to be stupid, so get in my patrol car and shut up." It was always nice to come home after work to a normal, home-spun atmosphere and enjoy the rest of Christmas with a family that didn't punch, kick, throw knives at or shoot at each other. Noisy kids and all.