Due to the frequency of Zoom, I’ve been opting for phone calls for one on one conversations.  I often throw on my coat and go for a walk while talking, a nice change from sedentary computer-ing.  We’re fortunate to live by a public walking path in the woods, right behind a police depot which borders our property to  the north.

Last Wednesday afternoon I did just that.  The cool air and brisk walk were refreshing, and it was a good phone conversation.  I got in several laps.  My hands got a bit cold with no gloves, but alternating which hand got frozen while holding the phone helped.

The call ended just as I was completing a lap.  I checked the news and noted that a mob had started to storm the Capitol building in DC.  I looked up and noticed that an unusual number of officers were next to their cruisers.  I wondered if it was just a shift change, or if they were headed downtown to provide security around the Statehouse. 

Then I noticed something else. 

There I was, standing nearby these officers, one hand holding a cell phone, my other hand shoved deep into my coat pocket – the exact same posture for which Andre Hill was shot several weeks ago, a few miles south of where we were. 

Perhaps the officers had bigger things on their mind than to give me a second glance.  Or perhaps I got the benefit of the doubt that I’m just a dude holding a cell phone, trying to stay warm on a winter day. 

I decided to stand there for another few minutes, just to feel what it was like, my body shaking just as much from sorrow as the cold.  Nobody seemed to notice.        

Joel