Around 1963 I was a kid living in Arizona. My mother had died and my father took to the bottle. Sometimes he would not come home for three days. I was the youngest of four brothers. They would send me to a nieghbors house to ask for food. The nieghbors would help. One day a Phoenix motorcycle cop showed up at our front door. A neighboor had called about us. He came inside and looked around our house and at us and just got back on his motorcycle and left. About 15 minutes later the same cop returned with a bag of lunch meats,bread,soda pop,chips,etc. We all dug in. The cop had gone to the local store and bought us food with his own money.
I hope that cop made it home safely every night and made it to a happy retirement. There are good cops.