I was trotting around the south wall of the city in a stout eight year-old black Ford stallion completely decked out with the tools and weapons of my profession, sweating through my armor in the heat of a late Spring day. While on patrol I passed Saint Bridgid’s Church and prayed the Pater Noster making the sign of the cross from my forehead to my chest and from badge to name tag. It was several minutes after this that I spied a curly black haired man wanted for his unspeakable crimes against a beautiful young maiden just a fortnight ago.

He was sat at a bus stop in front of a busy store front along the avenue and kept his eyes on me as I passed him. I acted as though I had not noticed him so as to not alarm him and I took a right down the next street and pulled into the parking lot to my right behind the store building and dismounted. I notified my dispatcher and other officers in the area that I would be making contact with the suspect as I passed through the store and out its front door and around to the front of the bus stop.

I greeted the curly black haired man, but he replied discourteously. I asked him to identify himself but he refused, along with another insult. After a few more words he then issued a challenge to physical combat but I denied and I put the Code 3 call out. I explained to him that it would be inappropriate for me to accept his challenge, as he and I were not equal in status and that I am bound to a code of chivalry of which I’ve taken an oath to maintain. I said that he would have to do a lot more than cast insults to get me to fight him, a weaker fellow not equipped for a bout against a man at arms.

And with that, he sprung up quickly from the bench and charged at me with his fists held high. We exchanged blows briefly and my fist connected to his right eyebrow before I captured an arm and took him to the ground. He was subdued rather quickly and his wrists were bound. Moments later two fellow knights approached and the curly black haired man’s identity was confirmed along with the warrant for his arrest. He was treated for a laceration above his right eye on scene and then we were mounted and rolling with him as my prisoner.

The ride to jail was silent until we passed by St. Brigid’s again and I prayed the Pater Noster. The curly black haired offender asked what language I was speaking and I replied that it was that of the angels, saints, and those who are victorious in battle. He said nothing for a few minutes, but then apologized for his actions against me today, stating that it was nothing personal. I accepted his apology with joy and forgiveness, but told him that he would have to atone for his sins against the young maiden whom he had abused. And I told him that there will always be a man like me who will fight for a damsel so long as there is a man like him who will put her in a state of distress. He remained silent the rest of the ride and I could tell he was thinking hard about that.

Before me, my father served and was in the middled of the ‘92 Riots. His father left the force after five years to fight in a war and was killed in Vietnam. But my great-grandfather was here before that fighting gangsters and the Italian Mafia. And his father served during the Labor Wars and union strikes. Four years ago I accepted an award on behalf of my family for our 100 years of service to the City of Angels.
Honor, chivalry and knightly sacrifice still exist as they always have. The reason these attributes are not common today is because they are not meant for commoners, but for fighting men of faith and fortitude. I follow the 4 simple rules of the Brotherhood of the Angelic Crown because they make me focus on growth in faith and fortitude. As an officer of the law I consecrated myself to Saint Michael for his guidance, protection and healing, and I am honored to be a member of the Brotherhood of the Angelic Crown and to bring this devotion to my department and parish.

Officer A. Sampson, LAPD