Politicians who love guns do not love police officers

On the way to the Trader Joe’s at 20th Street in Phoenix on Monday I drove past holy ground. There’s a lot of it in town, though it mostly goes unnoticed. Forgotten.

The mass shooting in Louisville, Ky., reminded me.

A 23-year-old gunman killed five and wounded eight at a bank before being killed by police.

Among the wounded is 26-year-old Louisville Police Officer Nickolas Wilt, who graduated from the police academy on March 31. He was shot in the head as he answered the call about the gunman and is in critical condition.

The shooter was armed with a semiautomatic rifle, the weapon of choice for most of America’s mass killers.

It’s a weapon elected officials refuse to ban, because they love the money and the support provided by the gun lobby more than they love innocent civilians.

Or police officers.

Signs note first responders' sacrifices

The proof is scattered around every big city, including ours.

All around Phoenix there are reminders of the sacrifices first responders make on our behalf. You may not have noticed them.

The city erects small markers at the spots where police officers have died in the line of duty.

Each is about the size of a “no parking” sign, with a blue background, a stylized city of Phoenix logo, and block letters with the officer’s name and the date of the officer’s “End of Watch.”

The one on 20th Street, south of Highland on the east side of the road, is for Officer Leonard Kolodziej.

In 1991, he answered a call about gunshots in that neighborhood. Just after he arrived a man with a rifle opened fire and killed him.

I note his “End of Watch” sign each time I pass it, sometimes stopping.

A list of the lost is too long to print

A few years before Kolodziej was killed, I was getting threats that police thought were more serious than the usual threats a news columnist receives. Officers were assigned to make extra patrols through the neighborhood where my family and I lived.

During one pass on my block the patrolling officer saw the front door to our house wide open and swerved into my driveway, believing there might be trouble. There wasn’t, but he did not hesitate. It was Kolodziej.

The Officer Down Memorial Page lists a total of 286 fallen law enforcement officers for Arizona.

In 2007, I visited the spot at 83rd Avenue and Encanto Boulevard where Officer George Cortez Jr. was shot and killed after responding to a forgery call at a check-cashing operation.

I was at the scene in 2005 on Cactus Road, between 31st and 35th avenues, shortly after Phoenix Police Officer David Uribe was gunned down during a traffic stop.

After shooting: Arizona school safety requirements vary widely

Officers Eric White and Jason Wolfe were killed in 2004 at an apartment complex near 19th and Northern avenues. A few days after they died, I watched kids running through the complex with crime-scene tape trailing behind them like yellow ribbon.

Something should be done, but won't

In 1999 I visited the spot near 30th Avenue and Catalina where Officer Marc Atkinson was shot to death by suspected drug traffickers.

Time covers places and events like blowing sand. There is no longer a branch office of Valley National Bank on West McDowell Road where Officer Ken Collings was shot dead in 1988.

There is not enough space to list all of the officers lost just in our city.

Isn’t that reason enough for lawmakers to take some action to protect the men and women who risk their lives to protect the public? Particularly now, with the proliferation of high-powered weapons.

But they won’t.

Way back in 1986 I drove to what was then a Circle K at 11th Street and Indian School Road, where Phoenix police Officer Robert Fike had been killed the night before.

While I stood with a small crowd of others gawking at a stain on the parking lot behind the Circle K, an elderly man and woman approached.

The man carried a small bucket and shovel, like you might see in a child’s sandbox. He squeezed between a few of us, took a shovelful of dirt from the bucket and spread it over the stain on the asphalt.

Then, he and the woman turned and shuffled away.

Reach Montini at ed.montini@arizonarepublic.com.

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This article originally appeared on Arizona Republic: Louisville shooting reminds how politicians love guns more than police