Miami Dade Real Estate Scoop

It took me 2 hours to get home tonight.  It usually takes me 40 minutes.  I'm not complaining.  I know I arrived at home, safe and sound.  A Miami-Dade police officer was not so lucky.  Officer Jose Somohano was gunned down this morning while on duty on robbery detail.

Three other officers were also shot during the same incident.  They were hurt but they survived.  Supposedly shot by an AK-47.  The alleged gunman, Shawn Sherwin Labeet, is still on the run.  The manhunt continues.  That was the reason for the delay getting home.

I got off the Florida Turnpike as usual.  A few blocks closer to home I realized I was probably in the midst of the police efforts.  There were a lot of police cars at that point.  Many going against traffic.  I saw a lot of Ford Tauruses.  I guess they do use those a lot.  I had heard that once.

It took 20 minutes to get to the next light.  Upon getting there I saw we were being detoured South.  I needed to keep going straight.  I travelled in a stairs pattern until I got somewhere I thought I could swing around and get back to the main road I needed.  At the 4-way Stop they were turning most cars the other way.  Cops were everywhere, in all different uniforms.  Federal, State and local.  Many different local departments were represented here. I personally saw the Miami-Dade police, Coral Gables, Homestead and Florida City.  There were many more.  They all sent their own to hunt for the man who had killed one of their own.

I gave the policewoman my drivers license.  She asked where I was going.  I just wanted to get home.  She signaled up ahead that they should let me through.  As I slowly turned I wanted to tell her that I was mourning with her but she moved quickly to the next vehicle.  I was rushed by another officer.  How could I rush when I had no idea how I was supposed to behave in a situation like this?

At the next Stop sign I signaled left and marvelled at how little traffic there was at 6:30 PM on this main artery.  Even so, I was cautious turning onto the road.  There were undercover lights coming toward me and I waited until they passed.  I wanted to cause no more work for these officers than they already had.  The officer driving the other way looked right at me as he passed.  They were looking everywhere for him.

At the next intersection I waited at the light for directions from an officer.  He, too, wanted my license.  He was very courteous as he told me that I was being detoured yet again.  This time North.  I needed to show him that even though I did not put my life on the line when I left for work each morning I still supported what he and his colleagues were doing.  "We're mourning with you," I told him.  "Ma'am?"  He seemed surprised and wasn't sure he'd heard me correctly.  I repeated myself.  "Thank you Ma'am."  I drove slowly down this foreign street. 

I could tell the next roadblock a mile up was different.  They had firearms drawn at this one.  When it was my turn they didn't want my license, just to see inside my car.  I put all the windows down.  They asked me to pop the trunk open.  I did and they checked.  I somehow felt that I had to singlehandedly show my support to these officers.  Who the heck had commissioned me to be the goodwill ambassador?  I told this cop that I was sorry about what happened.  We spoke briefly and I continued down the road and waited at the next light. 

I encountered no more roadblocks but police were everywhere.  When I finally arrived at home the TV was tuned to a local channel covering the incident.  I was surprised by how sweet the assailant looked.  He didn't look like a hardened criminal.  His boyish looks belied the fact that he could point a high powered weapon at 4 police officers and shoot without regard for what happened next.

I hurt for him too.  Why would he give up rights to his life like this? Where was he right now?  Was he afraid at the realization of what he'd done?  Was he hiding in the underbrush somewhere?  Was he in one of the aqueducts at a canal?  How does a police officer check one of those and not be afraid that he'll be shot in the face?  Had he made it out of the county as some were thinking?  Did he have people helping him?  How did his mother feel being told that her son had killed a police officer?  He was going to die for it.  Either during the capture or later at the hands of the state.  No matter how I played it out, I didn't like it.

Many questions.  No good answers.  One life ended.  Many lives shattered.  I'm glad I'm home.......