Good morning,

It is both an honor and a solemn duty to stand before you today as we gather to commemorate Memorial Day—one of the most sacred days on the American calendar. As a law enforcement officer and veteran of the United States Armed Forces, I come to you with a deep sense of reverence, shaped by two uniforms and one unwavering commitment: service. 

Memorial Day is not a celebration—it is a commemoration. It’s not about the unofficial start of summer, a sale at the mall, or just a day off. Today, we pause not for what we have, but for what we’ve lost—and more importantly, who we’ve lost. We honor the men and women who gave their lives in defense of our nation, those who laid down everything so that we might live in peace, freedom, and security.

As someone who has worn both the badge and the uniform of a U.S. service member, I see Memorial Day through a dual lens. I see it through the eyes of a soldier, remembering brothers and sisters-in-arms who never came home. And I see it through the eyes of a police officer, knowing that the protection of others—whether at home or abroad—often comes at the highest cost. 

In the military, we are trained to serve a cause greater than ourselves. We stand watch on foreign soil, in harsh conditions, often with nothing but each other and the mission. In law enforcement, we continue that service here at home—guarding our communities, answering calls in the darkest of nights, often facing the unknown. In both roles, we are reminded constantly of the fragility of life and the nobility of sacrifice. 

Memorial Day is not just about grief. It is about gratitude. It is about recognizing that every liberty we enjoy—every right we hold dear—was secured by someone else’s courage. Someone who may have been just 17,18,or 19 years old. Someone who left behind a family, a future, a lifetime of moments never to be lived. That sacrifice is not abstract to me. I have seen their faces. I have heard the final roll calls. I have stood in silence as the flag was folded and handed to a grieving mother, a spouse, a child. 

This day calls us to remember them—not just with words, but with action. Let us live in a way that honors their legacy. Let us be better citizens, more compassionate neighbors, more faithful to our principles. Because to truly honor the fallen, we must ensure that what they died for endures. A nation strong. A people united. A commitment to liberty and justice for all. 

Let us also remember that the weight of this day does not fall equally on all shoulders. For Gold Star families, for veterans, for comrades-in-arms, this day reopens wounds that never fully heal. To them, I say: We see you. We remember with you. And we will not forget. 

As we look around today—at flags waving gently, at veterans standing tall, at families placing flowers on headstones—know that these are not acts of tradition alone. They are acts of devotion. They are promises renewed. That we will never let the memory of our fallen fade into history’s background noise. 

As a veteran , I carry their memory in every step I take. I wear their stories in my heart. I speak their names when I pray for courage. And today, I ask you to do the same.