Helicopters

I hate the sound of helicopters. To me, that sound means trouble. This morning I was awakened by that unmistakeable roar. It is the heavy sound of a whirling motor, vibrating above your head. In my town, when you hear that noise, it means that a crime has occurred. Either a prisoner has escaped from the county jail, or a crime has taken place that needs the police to be overhead surveying the perimeter. When I was outside walking Shelby, I saw the helicopter hovering. Just frozen in the air, not moving. My daughter-in-law, who lives in the same town, texted me. She told me not to go to the shopping center, as a policeman had been shot early this morning. My stomach did a flip flop. I know the policemen in this town. I asked her if he was alive.She then responded that he was shot in the leg while doing a car stop. He will be OK. In reality, could anyone ever be OK after being shot? I will find out the details of what occurred later today but it is still unsettling. I hope I do not hear that sound again for a long time.