Pubdate: Wed, 17 May 2006 Source: Penticton Western (CN BC) Copyright: 2006 Penticton Western Contact: http://www.pentictonwesternnews.com/ Details: http://www.mapinc.org/media/1310 Author: Stockwell Day, MP, Okanagan-Coquihalla MOUNTIE'S DEATH HIGHLIGHTS NEED FOR STRONGER SENTENCES Crying doesn't come easily for most men. That's not a sign of weakness or dysfunction as some pop psychologists might suggest. It's just the way we're wired. That's why the sight of dozens of men standing to attention with tears coursing down to their jawbones hit me with such impact. Special Constable John Atkinson had finished his shift last Friday at 2 p.m. He was fueling up at the local gas station before going home to be with his young wife and two kids. He could have ignored what looked like a drug deal going down in the near empty lot. He could have said, "Hey not my problem, I'm off duty." But Constable Atkinson wasn't wired that way. Even though only in his 30s, he'd already seen too many young lives ravaged by merciless dealers who care little for the destruction they reap. He approached the two teenaged men with his smile and his badge both gleaming. How could he have known he was smiling for the last time in his life? How could he have known that one of those men was carrying an illegal handgun? As I sat at his funeral with thousands of citizens and police officers, I wondered what his last thoughts were as he lay groaning on the pavement as the pair of thugs ran off. As I sat there looking at his little daughter clinging to her teddy bear and his toussled-haired son clinging to their newly widowed mom I think I know what his last thoughts were. As I looked down the row at the brave men and women with whom he patrolled every day I wondered which ones had been chosen for the awful task of going to his home that Friday afternoon to bring the news that families of police officers never want to think about, but always think about. I found myself wondering what thoughts would have been racing through his wife's mind that Friday afternoon as she opened the front door expecting to see John's mile-wide grin and instead stared into the ashen faces of two trembling comrades. As I stood by my chair waiting for the ceremony to begin, a 6-foot-3, crisply-uniformed, 30-something officer introduced himself to me and thanked me for coming. "We enrolled in the Police Academy on the same day 15 years ago," he said quietly. "We became fast friends..." Then his voice sort of cracked and he looked away. I put my hand on his crisply-uniformed arm and looked away too. I guess that's what men do when we force back tears. So that's why I stood in the House of Commons this week to be counted as supporting a new law which will bring in mandatory jail terms for anyone using a firearm in the commission of a crime. Whether somebody gets shot or not, you pack a gun for nasty purposes you're going away for a long time. "Not fair," shouted some who oppose us. "Too harsh," exclaimed some criminologists. "Too late for Constable Atkinson", I thought as I stood and voted. And I guarantee there's a little girl and a toussle-haired boy clinging to a young widow tonight who might be wishing we'd done it sooner, too. - --- MAP posted-by: Beth Wehrman