text: As a police officer for the New Jersey Police Department in Newark. You become accustomed to certain calls over the radio. You become desensitized to some of the horrors this city can throw at you. The world seems to be going to hell and as a police officer and I feel like I have front row seats. My son Josh was the reason I got into the police force. I wanted to make it a safer place for him. We live in a time a lot different then it was twenty years ago. Sometimes I wonder, is it us as parents that are the ones to blame for the madness that's out there. The one thing that terrifies me more than anything though, is getting the call over the radio that some kid, or whoever is shooting up a school. What kind of world are we living in today? When that is something you have to worry about. I remember last year my son was joking around with me about a kid in his class potentially being the person to shoot up his school. I remember feeling sad about it because I had to justify sending my son to a place where the thoughts and fear of being shot were all too real. As I turn up to 11th Avenue a call comes over the radio. “WE GOT A 417 OVER AT BARD HIGH SCHOOL ALL UNITS.” My heart began to beat out through my chest. That was my son's school. I get on-to the radio and asked them what they meant by 417. She tells me there is an active shooter at the school. I gasp for breath as the thoughts of my son being gunned down raced through my mind. As I turn on to Bergen St. I'm greeted by the chaos up outside the school. I ring my son's mobile but I get no answer. I ring it again pleading with the phone to pick up. As I jump out of my car. I see bodies on the lawn outside the school. Police are crouched down behind their cars. A Swat team was gearing up to burst through the front doors, as shots rang out through the air. I ring my son's phone, but still no answer. I leave the phone ring through in the hope he answers. I watch the swat team burst through the doors of the school, as I pray for the phone to answer. A voice is heard over the radio saying they had the shooter cornered in a classroom. As I'm holding the phone to my ear. My son answers. I beg him to tell me he's alright. He cries to me over the phone that he was sorry. “What do you need to be sorry over” I cry out. As he begs me for forgiveness. I hear someone in the background shouting at my son to get on the ground. Then gunshots ring out through the phone and then silence. Then another voice calls out over the radio. “THE SHOOTER IS DOWN. I REPEAT THE SHOOTER IS DOWN.” I drop the phone. I fall to my knees, as the carnage continues to unfold around me. I can't help but think about the last thing my son said to me before I left for work this morning. "I think today is the day people will finally start to listen to me, dad." I just smiled at him and left.