When I thanked the people we don’t see, my use of the word “we” might have been a bit too broad. While most of us may not have “seen” some of the people risking their health for the sake of others, the commanding officer of the 66th Precinct did.
As the sun slowly begins to crack just over the elevated subway station, a crack comes over the radio signaling the beginning of “Operation Cluster Fuck”. An operation spearheaded and ran by no other than Long Island native, Deputy Inspector James King. Like the brave soldiers on Omaha Beach, members of the 66 Pct and the NYPD Traffic Enforcement Division charged the block and risked it all to wake sleeping out of state truckers.
Truckers. Not killers. Not gangbangers. Not drug dealers. Truckers. Those men and women driving big rigs across country to bring food and toilet paper to the huddled masses yearning to be isolated.
Parked along a deserted mixed-use street in the wee hours of the morning lay truckers. Over the road truckers who have been working nonstop the last few weeks in a desperate attempt to win shelf space in stores to prevent the American people from going without. Truckers sleeping in their rigs to catch a few moments of rest before pulling out to take loaded trailers to their next destination. Trailers full of water, diapers, baby formula, and the ever-elusive toilet paper.
At night, they pull their rigs over to the side of the street to grab some sleep. It’s not as if they can offload the trucks in the middle of the night anyway, and they’re tired after driving as long as the law allows. Maybe even longer, but let’s not go there because we need them now. Or do we?
Trailers that will now go undelivered and further set back the fight to keep good flowing to stores so that the citizens of the United States have what they need.
What? The NYPD is on the job, protecting streets from the unlawful parking of trucks that annoys the neighbors.
Truckers are heroes. Cops are heroes. Everybody’s a hero. Except when they’re not.
Luckily, this time, the waters would not turn red from the blood of slaughtered patriots risking their lives to save an enslaved nation halfway across the world but it would mean people not getting what they need, while sitting in quarantine during the largest global emergency since the deadly Spanish influenza pandemic of 1918.
You might go hungry. Your tushie might not be Charmin clean. But at least you can sleep well at night knowing the 66th Precinct has saved you from trucks parked on residential streets. What would we do without our heroes?