I know Melissa Ripley. She used to be a druggie. More on that in a moment.
If you want to read a heart warming story of kindness, read Cindy Lange-Kubick: A place to lay his head for Christmas in the Lincoln Journal this Christmas day. Lange-Kubick is a gifted, and I mean gifted, writer. Her story about Melissa and the mentally ill vet may well make you weep.
As I said, I know Melissa. I ran into her at the hospital about a week ago. I had just completed my pulmonary function testing in preparation for my surgery. Melissa had her dog with her. It was Melissa’s day off, and she and her pal where at the hospital so the pup could provide therapy to patients.
How do I know Melissa? She testified in front of me many times after she bought drugs as an undercover cop. She was absolutely the best cop-witness I have ever heard. She was truthful to a fault–never an exaggeration. Juries loved her. They sensed the honesty and humanity and the raw guts.
Guts? Imagine being alone in a dealer’s car wearing a wire when the electronic beeper in the guy’s coat goes off signaling to him that you are wearing a recording device. Awkward!
Melissa, you go, girl!