She was tough but not mean- that rare sort of human being who was capable of decisive violence, but who carried herself with the air of a reasonable, peaceable person- someone you could talk to. Under most circumstances violence is the heart’s dog, an egress of passion, a bursting dam, but when she bloodied someone it always struck me as controlled and correct. I never regretted being present during those moments when she acted as the awful arm of the state.
Some men are mean but not tough, they might harm a child or a woman, and they may find something that resembles courage in the midst of a pack of drunken friends, but she could be counted on to attempt what was necessary regardless of the stature of the offender, and that without hesitation or moral confusion.
George Orwell had her in mind when he wrote, "Men sleep peacefully in their beds at night because rough men stand ready to do violence on their behalf."
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