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HITTING A HOMER![]() ![]() ![]() ![]() ![]() ![]() ![]() ![]() ![]() ![]() TOM'S HOME RUN Now, from law enforcement lore; From Buffalo, on Erie's shore, A tale about our Troopers fearless And Constantine, their leader peerless. ![]() It's long ago he pulled up roots, Put his feet in Trooper's boots And set out in the world to rise. To those who knew him, no surprise, His star was rising, bright, ascendant. They knew he'd end up Superintendent. But, in his heart, he never forgot From where he came, that humble spot. This Trooper with the surname royal To home and birthplace, fastly loyal. Even now, Tom's biggest thrills Are winning touchdowns by the Bills. There came a time when our environs Grew filled with gunfire, lights and sirens. Fights and hold-ups, shakedowns, lootings, Burglaries and drive-by shootings. Appeared in town a crowd of thugs. Appeared on streets a plague of drugs. Then gangs arrived, pulled out the stops, Announced to all: "We're hunting cops." The city cops put up a fight From street to street both day and night. With all their might, each woman and man Together made determined stand. No way would they accept defeat. But every time they cleared a street Of misfits who were dealing "crack", A day would pass, they'd slink right back. Came the Sheriff to the fray. We looked to him to save the day. He, of himself, gave good account; As we'd expect the county mount'. He swept the streets and greased the rails That slid those miscreants to jail In numbers soon that grew so big He'd filled to overflow the brig! But, though they worked and did their best; Breaking records for arrests; Though arms grew tired from throwing books; The streets were still awash with crooks. Yes, things were looking pretty dark, When, in the East, there blazed a spark. When hope had dwindled down to zero, Came to our aid our hometown hero. Came into view that Long, Gray Line And out in front, Tom Constantine. He'd on his face, a fearsome frown To see this stuff in his home town. They rallied 'round each woman and man. They strategized and drew a plan. Then off they charged -- a surging wave Of cops all stern, determined, brave. There's Tom, out front, hard set his jaw. Determined to uphold the law, End disorder, restore the peace Or else, he's not the State Police. So launched they a humongous raid That swept the streets and promenades. Soon all the druggies from their stupors Awoke up to their ears in Troopers. And everywhere the dealers looked, They saw their kind were getting booked. Our cops chased down each street and alley All tentacles of Cartel Cali. 'Cause folks, no force on earth can stop The fury of an Irish cop Who truly, badly takes offense At those who prey on innocents. As quick begun, so fast it ended. The operation's now suspended. The jails are full and courts so busy Stenographers are getting dizzy. Expect, at least, now for a time A sharp decrease in rates of crime. Success, though, cops know doesn't last. They've learned that lesson in the past. You don't know why they don't get tired, Throw in the towel, get retired. What keeps a Trooper's heart afire? And what's the thing these deeds inspires? Our Troopers come from every place. They're of both genders and every race. Think of it. Yes, contemplate -- They're from each township in the State. They're more than sworn to keep the peace. They're our community police. Like Tom, each one of them would go To rescue his own Buffalo. Poem by Terry O'Neill. Copyright 2000 by Constantine's Circus, Inc. ![]() Questions? E-mail Us! CONSTANTINE'S CIRCUS, INC. PO Box 7223 Capitol Station Albany, NY 12224-0223 518-465-4413 518-465-3200 FAX |