But where to start? I guess logically, it should be chronological. Starting from where I left off makes sense...without a doubt, experiencing my first on-scene officer death was impactful. It's simply something I will never forget and something from which all other moments will, most likely, evolve from. I can still remember looking into his eyes and knowing that life had already left him.
As a member of my agency's honor guard, I have the privilege of paying homage to my brothers and sisters in blue. In February of 2016, tragedy would strike the tranquil county of Harford, north of Baltimore near the Pennsylvania line. Deputy sheriff's engaged a person who was causing a disturbance in a Panera Bread...of all places, right? The first deputy, Senior Deputy Dailey, arrived at the popular restaurant. A witness would later recall that the deputy walked up to the distraught person and asked him "How was your day?" before being shot in the head. Right then and there, Dailey was killed, leaving behind two children. A former United States Marine, he had been with the sheriff's office for 30 years. Another deputy was also killed in an ensuing gunbattle. And I was there when they were laid to rest, leaving loved ones, family, and friends behind.
Yes. I "enjoy" going to funeral services. Enjoy, as in, I like to eat ice cream or pet kitties? Fuck no. But I want to go to them. I want to go because I want to be the one that pays respect for their service and honors their life. Deep down, I fucking hate them. But I want to go. I simply have to.
So, how apropos then, it was that February was the same month I finally began co-instructing the in-service training class on Mental Wellness for Law Enforcement. It was a course I had written in order to help my brethren survive traumas like Officer Leotta's scene or the one up in Harford County. This class was one of the cornerstones of the wellness program and I was certainly proud of it. I had worked my ass off to get this initative, at least partially, accepted by my department. And I'm not referring to the talking heads of the agency. Jesus. You go to them with the kind of stats and information I had about, not only law enforcement in general, but our own men and women, of course they're going to "support" it. Certainly, though, it needs to go much deeper than that. But changing the mindset of cops about opening up to mental health is like turning the Titanic. That shit happens slowly.
By mid-spring, I was, once again, training for the Police Unity Tour. I had recovered completely from my injuiries suffered the year before and was ready, once again, to ride in honor of those officers that took their own lives. Goddamn, too many of them do so. I rode for Christina, of course, and for two law enforcement park rangers with the National Park Service. My own career started in park law enforcement and I had always aspired to be an NPS ranger. There was...and still is...something so nostaglic about them. I mean, your workplaces are some of the most beautiful spots on this planet. So, I rode for Matthew Werner. Matt was a ranger in Glen Canyon National Recreation Area when he took his own life. Only months earlier, Matt received the Department of Interior’s Valor Award for his actions during a technical rescue in 2014 that saved the life of a climber who was dangling 700 feet above the ground. And there was Nate Knight, who killed himself only a few weeks after Matt. Two suicides within weeks of each other in any agency would shake its foundation. These two rocked the park service's core. Nate had worked at Point Reyes National Seashore, a gorgeous California central coast park I had been to many times myself. Nate left behind a wife and two very young children. We'll certainly never know what pain those three experienced to drive them all to their own deaths. And even with all that I know and do regarding mental health and suicides in law enforcement, there are days when I still don't fucking get it.
Speaking of God...during this time, you were now more apt to regularly find us at church on Sunday mornings than still in bed. Growing up as a kid, I was compelled by my parents (mainly my mom) into, not only attending, but participating in church! So, of course, when the time came when I could make my own decision, I swiftly ended that chapter. At the time, I wanted nothing to do with God or anything else spiritual. I wasn't ready. No one really needs something like God until you really need something like God. It's like when someone calls 9-1-1 and needs us, the police. They don't want anything to do with us until they need us and when is that? Yup, when they're in crisis. Then we show up, handle it (at least, for that moment), then roll out. And that's the way most people view God. So when we started looking for a church to settle down in, found it, and then started going when we weren't in crisis, that was kinda awesome and allowed me to begin to appreciate life in ways that I hadn't before. When you're in a crisis mode, or even in a bit of stress or anxiety (OK, yes, some would say they're in crisis mode when they're experiencing anxiety...and you know who you are), your capacity to take inventory as to what you have and then be grateful for those things...love, friendships, health, understanding, patience and all that...is limited, if not completely shut off. It's sheveled. No shit, right? You're in the classic fight-flight-or freeze mode. Some, in total Code Black. Complete fucking shutdown. Who reviews the blessings of their life then? Um, pretty much nobody. I liken it to when I used to be so paralyzed by flying. With sweaty palms and racing pulse, I would "pray" to God to let me live through the takeoff (I hated them the most). But is that the time to really reach out? No. He's there. So, why not, when things are going harmoniously, be appreciative and say thank you?
When I first started this entry to simply recap my time away from here, I had no intention of writing about God. I usually just start writing. But why not? The purpose of this work is to share so I can maybe help others. To show them that, after hitting the shittiest of lows in life - when you contemplate killing yourself as I did - you can rise up and triumph. Make no mistake, it will not be without helping hands, but it can be done.
So, I'll leave you with this (I hate long entries, so I'll have to do a part two on this in order to catch up to the here and now)...I got an email recently from the son-in-law of a police officer who killed himself a few days before Father's Day this year. It hit me hard. Out of nowhere. In it, the writer talked about the grief his family was going through and the betrayal they feel from a department still casting a shadow on their own who succumb to their own pain. It is dark for him and that family. And they are, right now, asking themselves "Why God? Why?" I don't know why and they probably don't either. But we must still keep the faith. Be strong. And continue to help others and honor lives lost.
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