He stood 6 foot 6 from the top of his helmet to the soul of his boots.
I remember looking at him and wondering where he got his roots.
When you shook his hand, it felt like you were holding a bear’s paw.
And for twenty-seven years, he’d been a representative of the law.
At two hundred and sixty pounds, he was as thick as a tree stump.
And if he needed to, he’d yell and his voice could make you jump.
On the family fights we’d been on, I noticed he’d fill the hallway
and I’d seen mouthy people be more careful of what they’d say.
Jeff could be stern if he needed. He was brave, he was big, he was tall.
You could see his command presence when he’d walk up on your call.
But even though he was big and commanding, a giant among men,
he was one of the nicest guys I’d met. He reminded me of Gentle Ben.
He never thought it funny to hurt, demean or browbeat others.
He was different, never forgetting all of us are sisters and brothers.
It was an odd thing for a police officer of twenty-seven years
to be moved by compassion for others and sometimes shed tears.
One of the things I liked the most was that he was an honest man inside.
To him, being an honest man was a matter of honor and pride.
But now he is gone and many friends and loved ones wonder why.
Why did a man who enjoyed life and family so, ...suddenly die?
Now he visits with friends and family as he waits for those he loves.
And he watches them from a hidden place, not so far above.
Though much more difficult now, he’ll help them where he can.
He hasn’t gone far, he loves them still, it’s part of the Lord’s plan.
Death is only a parting of company for what may seem a long time.
But they will see him again and this time his countenance will shine.
He’ll do well on judgement day because of how he chose to live.
He was good to his family, kind to others and always willing to give.
Though an officer, Jeff was first a family man. He had his priorities
There is a mansion for him above and he’ll be welcome at the Pearly Gate.
There is a lesson in the way he lived, he wasn’t consumed with things or
He knew all that counted is not who you were ...but how you lived your life.