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Authors: George Norris

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Czartoryski put a
firm hand on Galvin’s shoulder as he continued.  “Each and every member of our NYPD family owes Detective Galvin a debt of gratitude.  There is no way that we will ever know how many more of our brother and sisters in blue would have fallen prey to this madman.  I also want to point out that Detective Galvin was shot in the head at point blank range by the killer during the arrest.  He was out with a line of duty injury for nearly a month to recover from the near fatal wound.  It is only by the grace of God that he stands here before us to be honored and promoted.”

Galvin chucked to himself at the Commissioner’s
assertion that he needed a month to recover. 
I begged them to let me return to work after as soon as I could hear again
.

Galvin had enough time on the job to know how to play the game. 
The suggestion that he miss a month of work had not been his, still it was a suggestion he was too smart to question.  A hero cop, shot in the head made the case that much stronger against Underhill as well as helped erase the controversial incident in the South Jamaica houses for which Galvin had been painted a racist cop by some of the press.  Now the press united in singing his praises.

Once the Commissioner
had completed his oration, all of those in attendance gave an ovation.  Galvin paused for a picture with the Police Commissioner. Chief’s Courtney and Santoro, who had been part of the dais, spontaneously stood up and joined in the photo opportunity.  The flash bulbs once again created a light show.

The enthusiastic response from his fellow cops was surreal.  The applause just continued…far longer than it should have in Galvin’s
opinion.  He immediately sought out his mother in the audience.  She held a tissue to her eye; it was an emotional moment for Galvin as well.  He thought of his father, who he knew would have been proud of the police officer he had become.  He also thought back to Laurie.  He felt a tear well up in his eyes as he walked off the stage.


Detective Second Grade Lawrence King.

Galvin quickly scanned the press pen.  He knew that Brian McGregor would not be in attendance but he looked anyway.  Today was the day
that the Pulitzer Prize winning reporter was being honored in Washington for his Blue Execution stories.  The two of them had spoken on the phone the previous week; the irony was that a mad man had brought them together to receive such high honors in their respective professions.  Galvin was looking forward to having dinner with McGregor on Friday night just as they had planned.

 

 

#########################

 

 

 

Epilogue

 

 

It was the second time in less than a year that Tommy Galvin was being promoted—this time to Sergeant.  Galvin, wearing his dress blue uniform and white gloves, sat quietly in the audience as Police Commissioner Ray Santoro gave his opening remarks and introduced the members of the dais.  Seated in the fifth row on the aisle, Galvin politely clapped as each member was introduced.

Having worked for Santoro for only a couple of days some months back, it was hard to get a true sense of the man and who he would be as a newly appointed Police Commissioner.  Still, Santoro carried a good reputation amongst the rank and file and they were usually correct.  Galvin had always heard great things about the former
PC
and they were accurate.  Czartoryski had left the department to head the Department of Homeland Security shortly after the elections last fall.

The officers were seated in alphabetical order, broken down by the rank they were being promoted to; the higher ranks to the front, the detectives to the rear. 
Galvin, along with the rest of those being promoted, was anxious to find out the command they would be transferred to.  Having been promised his command of choice (the 103 Precinct) upon promotion, gave Galvin a slight sense of ease.  He was quick to remind himself of the words his father had told him on the day he graduated from the Police Academy; ‘The only thing this job promises you Tommy is a pension after twenty years.’  Still, he wouldn’t be totally at ease until he was handed the personnel orders along with his certificate of promotion by the Police Commissioner.

The row in front of Galvin filed out; they made their way to the stage.  A member of the ceremonial unit stood over Galvin.  He placed a hand on Galvin’s shoulder, signaling that it was time to stand.  As he stood, Galvin searched the audience behind him.  His mother was once
again in attendance, and again sitting next to his Uncle Pat.  But this time it was no longer Detective Dempsey—it was Mr. Dempsey.  Dempsey had retired just before the holiday season and moved out of state.  Galvin was thrilled to see that his Godfather came back to New York to see him get promoted to Sergeant.  

 

*

 

This would be the first promotion ceremony that Ray Santoro presided over since becoming the Police Commissioner of the New York City Police Department.  It was almost as momentous a day for him as it was for those he was promoting.  Santoro was now living out what was a lifelong dream.  He had wanted to be a cop ever since he was a child growing up on the streets of Brooklyn.  Once he did join the department, his only aspiration was to one day be the Police Commissioner.  He wasn’t unrealistic though.  He knew that it was going to be a long shot but with each promotion his dream came one step closer, culminating with his appointment this past January.

The appointment was not without its price however.
  An unequivocal condition of taking the job was that Santoro fire a police officer with more than twenty-two years of service for an incident which happened over the previous summer.  Mark Jones, a father of three, had been made the scapegoat for a riot last summer.  While Santoro didn’t object to him being disciplined for striking a civilian with a police van, he felt the loss of vacation days would suffice—termination was far too harsh.  The new Mayor didn’t agree.  ‘Fire him or I’ll find someone else for the job that will,’ were the Mayor-Elects exact words to him.  Clearly, there was no protecting the officer at that point.

The real kicker regarding that incident for Santoro was
that the man who oversaw the detail and should have been ultimately accountable was also present today.  Santoro would be promoting Captain William Blaine to Deputy Inspector in spite of the fact that Blaine only had three months experience as a commanding officer in a Brooklyn North stationhouse.  Blaine had what former Police Officer Mark Jones did not—an ally.  In Santoro’s estimation, it should have been Blaine to take the fall for the events of that day, not a street cop.  Blaine was in charge and had failed to supervise his men on more than one level. 

However,
Blaine was well liked by the Reverend Mitchell who once again had the ear of the new Mayor, just as he had of the previous one.  Much to Santoro’s dismay that meant that he also had influence within Santoro’s department.  The hardest part of the job so far was not the day to day running of the department, but instead learning the ins and outs as well as the politics that make the job.

The worst part of the appointment for Santoro was how upset his longtime friend, Edward Courtney had been about being passed over for the job.  Santoro felt
that Courtney would have made a fine police commissioner but the new mayor saw it differently—not that Santoro was complaining.  Santoro had even asked Courtney to stay on as his first deputy commissioner.  While it would have still been a promotion for Courtney, he turned the offer down.  Santoro believed that Courtney’s pride was behind the declination.  Courtney had always been Santoro’s boss and quite possibly the role reversal was something that Courtney was unable to accept.

With his opening speech out of the way, and the butterflies having settled, it was now time to call up those being promoted.  Santoro was happy that this was a straight forward promotion ceremony.  There was nobody or nothing to distract from the ceremony itself.  He knew, quite often there would be some such ceremonies
, but for his first one, he was happy to keep it simple. Santoro looked down at the name of the first promotee then up at the officer standing just off stage.  He swallowed his pride and began the promotions.


Deputy Inspector William Blaine.

 

*

 

Galvin was one of seventy officers being promoted to Sergeant today.  It was an average size group as far as promotions of that rank were concerned.  As Galvin reached the top of the stage waiting for his name to be called he studied Santoro, wondering what kind of leader he would be.  Galvin noticed the Honor Legion pin affixed to the lapel of the new Police Commissioner’s navy blue suit.  He also noticed the electric blue tie, possibly a sign of solidarity;
NYPD blue
, thought Galvin.  The honor legion pin was a good sign in Galvin’s mind.  Being a member of the Honor Legion was usually reserved for active street cops.  Since Santoro was the Chief of Detective’s for as long as Galvin could remember, he had never seen a picture of Santoro in uniform; therefore he didn’t know if Santoro had many medals.  Medals were usually another good indication of whether or not someone was an active street cop or not.  Those with no or few medals didn’t always understand what the streets were really like.


Sergeant Thomas Galvin.

There was a nice round of applause—but no different than it had been for anyone else being promoted today.  There were no flash bulbs, speeches, standing ovations or any other fan fare; just a subdued round of applause.  Galvin was happy about that.  The events of the past year now faded into memory and he could get on with his career and his life.  

As he approached the Commissioner, the two shared a familiar nod, they exchanged right hands and Galvin accepted his certificate of promotion and an envelope containing the personnel orders in his left.  The two men held a pose long enough for the department photographer to take a quick picture and then Galvin made his way down the stairs back to his seat.

The ceremony continued as Galvin opened the envelope to confirm his command.

Detective 2nd Grade Thomas Galvin from 113 PDU to Sergeant 67 Precinct

Galvin could do no more than laugh.  Chief of Department Edward Courtney had promised to make a notation on his folder that upon promotion he would go to the 103 precinct...not the 67.  But Courtney has since retired.  He shook his head.  He could probably appeal to Santoro to honor Courtney’s promise but decided against it.  If fate had wanted him to go to the 67, then so be it.  He would go. 
The irony of the job

A hero one day and they promise you the world.  A few months later…totally forgotten.

Galvin was still curious as to what happened and he scanned through the rest of the promotions.

Police Officer Paul Heider Jr. from 111 Precinct to Sergeant 103 Precinct

Outhooked

Galvin laughed…out loud this time. 
The Chief of Patrol’s kid.

There was something about going to the 67 that was appealing to Galvin.  Earlier in the week, Galvin had read a story in the newspaper of an NYPD legacy that was going to the 67 precinct upon completion of the Academy.  Timothy Keegan, the son of NYPD legend, Lieutenant James Keegan had requested the command as well as his late father’s shield number.  The elder Keegan had started his career in the same command.

Lieutenant Keegan’s story was infamous throughout the department.  His was a story taught in the Police Academy for nearly two decades since his assassination back in 1995.  Keegan had been a highly decorated Lieutenant working in the department’s Joint Terrorist Task Force.  He singlehandedly took down a terrorist cell that was bent on blowing up the federal courthouse in Brooklyn in retaliation for harsh sentences in the first World Trade Center bombing.  The Islamic terrorists first assassinated the judge who presided over the case and then some months later detonated a car bomb, killing Keegan in front of his Long Island home.  While the NYPD was never able to arrest Keegan’s killer, they did say he was killed by US forces in a drone strike in Pakistan in 2007.

Galvin decided he’d
like to know more about Timothy Keegan and his father’s legend.  Once he got to the
six-seven
, he’d be sure to introduce himself to Keegan.  If there was anything Galvin could do to help the son of a hero cop killed in the line of duty, he would do it.  Galvin glanced back down at the personnel orders and smiled before folding them twice and inserting them into the plastic pocket, inside of his uniform hat.  He slid it behind Laurie Bando’s prayer card.

 

 

 

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Acknowledgements

 

I’d like to thank a long time friend of mine, David Joachim, who is the weekend Washington editor for the New York Times.  Dave has answered and endless amount of questions and emails for me so that I may have a better understanding of the behind the scenes
, day to day operations of a newspaper as well as the common jargon used in his profession.  While everything that I wrote regarding the newspapers may not be one hundred percent accurate, the only reason that I was able to present an even close representation of the way the newspaper is operated is because of his valued guidance and insight.  Thank you for your time and insight Dave.

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