Cold Case In Ellyson

I was recently playing tennis when we heard a police car’s siren. The officer was leading a funeral procession down the road in front of the courts. All of us women stopped our points and matches, faced the line of cars and politely waited to resume play until all had passed. None of us had to yell down to the other courts to stop; we all did. We’re Southern, and that’s just what we do.

Working as a cop, we led many processions through the streets of my small town. I liked working as the lead car. Once all the traffic at the stoplights were secured, I would race ahead, pull over, and stand at attention, hands behind my back, head held high and give the family, friends and mourners the most dignified send-off I could. It’s a Southern thing, and it’s the least we tennis players and cops can do.