I am a New York City Police Officer. On July 12, 1986, I was on patrol in Central Park and stopped to question three teenagers. While I was questioning them, the oldest, a fifteen-year-old, took out a gun and shot me in the head and neck. Thanks to the quick action of my fellow police officers, I was rushed to a hospital. A few days later, once it became clear I was going to survive, a surgeon came into my room and told my wife, Patti Ann, and... > Full Story

Happiness appeared to be the prize at the end of a race to belong. I feared being rejected by people constantly, and felt empty on the inside, hoping that joy would come once I felt...

Continue reading "Finding a Place to Belong"

Weapons are a “force multiplier” of human strength. With a weapon, the question of “who is more powerful” is not confined to men.

Continue reading "The Man Behind the Weapon"

The hum in the office grew as people filtered in that morning. Soft chuckles over some incident the night before, muffled conversations and ringing phones filled the air. Suddenly,...

Continue reading "September 11th: The Call That Shook My World"