You ever notice how the people sworn to protect and serve are often the ones you need protection from? Here’s a 15-year police veteran who turns the streets into his personal demolition derby, takes out a young father and an infant, and then—get this—manages to walk free on a bond so low it wouldn’t cover a used Kia. Fifteen grand? Hell, that’s barely enough to get your car out of impound after a DUI, let alone post bail for vehicular homicide. But sure, justice is blind, right? More like justice squints real hard when it comes to its own.

And then there’s the little detail of him dumping his booze containers before reporting the crash. That’s right, the guy who supposedly knows better because, oh, I don’t know, he’s a cop, had the moral clarity to stage a cleanup on aisle “my entire career” before admitting he’d just ended two lives. You know, it’s not just a hit-and-run; it’s a hit-and-flee-the-moral-high-ground-entirely.

Now let’s talk about this resignation with pay. Paid leave? For a guy who turned a public road into his own personal “Fast & Furious” stunt show? So he gets caught red-handed—well, more like red-wheeled—and we’re still cutting this guy checks? “Sorry for your loss, ma’am, but we need to make sure Officer Swanson’s rent is covered while we figure out how to legally tap dance around firing him.” What kind of dystopian nonsense is that? 

And of course, there’s the cherry on top: he resigns, but doesn’t get fired. Why? So he can keep his pension. Oh, sure, screw the victims’ families out of any sense of justice, but God forbid we let Greg’s golden parachute snag on the bodies of the people he killed. Because in this country, accountability doesn’t apply if you’ve got a badge, a title, or a Rolodex of excuses. Anxiety? Depression? A troubled childhood? Here’s a thought: maybe don’t get plastered and turn your Ford Explorer into a murder weapon. Millions of people have those issues without turning it into a death toll.

And don’t think I forgot about the police chief’s little “stain on the badge” comment. A stain? No, Chief, a mustard spill on your shirt is a stain. This is a full-blown chemical spill of negligence and corruption. You’ve got a guy who’s supposed to enforce the law, treating it like a game of “how much can I get away with?” And your big takeaway is that this is unfortunate for his co-workers? Imagine saying that to the victims’ family: “Sorry about your devastating loss, but Greg here was a real hoot at the precinct potluck.”

And what about the sentence? Five years per victim, served concurrently. You know what concurrent sentencing is? It’s the judicial equivalent of saying, “Don’t worry, you’re only grounded for the weekend—just Saturday and Sunday at the same time.” Two lives gone, and this guy’s looking at less time in prison than some people serve for stealing hedge clippers. Hell, if this guy weren’t a cop, the system would have thrown the book at him, the bookshelf, and probably the whole damn library.

This isn’t just about one bad cop; it’s about the whole system that props them up. It’s a club, folks, and you’re not in it. They protect their own like mobsters at a family reunion, and if you think for one second they’re losing sleep over this, you’re dreaming. The rest of us get lectures about “personal responsibility,” while they get excuses, paid leave, and a wrist slap so gentle it doubles as a hug.

Justice isn’t just blind—it’s got a selective seeing-eye dog. If this case doesn’t piss you off, check your pulse. You might already be part of the system.  

Sources :

WPR

KQDS 21

Justice : 5 Years Prison, 5 Years Probation