To my non-LEO husband...

To my non-LEO husband,

I see social media posts from several police wives cheering on their husbands who wear the badge and vest every day protecting their communities.   I see wives wear shirts or necklaces with some sort of “proud police wife” logo, read blogs by other LEO wives, and have forums just for them.  It’s heartwarming and a welcome sight to know my fellow officers have this support. 

What I don’t see is the public support for police husbands.  It’s not a traditional role to have just the wife as the law enforcement officer.  There’s usually the husband as the LEO or both spouses wearing the badge.  I don’t see “proud police husband” on shirts or coffee mugs.  They’re made to order perhaps.    

You sacrifice so much more as my husband because of my job than any of our friends could understand.  Over the years you've watched me put on my gun and badge, kiss me goodbye, and tell me every time I leave for work, “I love you, be careful.”   

You've had family and friends question how you deal with knowing the dangers of my job.  I've been asked numerous times if you were also a cop.  When I tell them “no” the next question is usually, “Really?  What does he think of you being a cop?”  There’s no simple answer so I just say, “You’d have to ask him.”    

You've listened to sirens in the distance and wondered if it was me headed to a call in progress, or my zone partners headed to me for backup.  You've paced for hours unable to reach me after hearing that a female deputy was shot on our very street, and had to keep your bearing for the sake of our boys until you knew I was okay.  You've watched breaking news of violence against police officers across the nation then watched me get ready for work to respond to similar threats of violence in our own community. 

You've been woken in the middle of the night by me having to leave for a call out even on days that I wasn't supposed to be on call.  You've dealt with last minute cancellations for dinner or plans with friends because I ended up with a late arrest.  You've had to leave work early to get our boys because I'm stuck on a crime scene.

You've put up with squad parties surrounded by cops talking in ten-codes you don’t understand, and see me laughing with them about inside jokes you “had to be there” to find funny.   On holidays I've had to work, you've made your homemade sauce and baked ziti for my zone partners knowing it would be our only hot meal that day. 

You've listened to me talk about calls for service that would give most people nightmares.  You've watched me struggle with my own nightmares from certain calls that I couldn't talk about.  You've accepted my career choice and told me numerous times you’re proud of me.  You understand why I do this job.  

I see this.  All of this.   Thank you for your constant support, your sacrifices, and for keeping faith and God in our family.  I love you more. 

#coplife

You can hash tag anything on social media and it will invariably lead you to a world wide web of similar posts/articles/pictures etc.  The one I look up often is #coplife.  It brings up a plethora of police memes and a few anti-law enforcement rants.  It also brings up a few real stories of real police officers who wear the badge each day to ultimately be a part of something bigger, something that makes a difference.

The difference it makes isn't just in the community.  It's also in us.  Sometimes good, sometimes bad.  Each of us sacrifice a piece of ourselves on every call for service.  One day we look in the mirror and see a faded version of the hotshot rookie who thought they were invincible.  The spark has left our eyes, the newness of the job worn off with a layer of crass and criticism formed.  Our response to certain crimes becomes desensitized.

Eventually you get to a level where there's more politics involved in a decision than there is toilet paper to wipe up the crap that follows.  It becomes harder to make the best decision for the people on the front lines and more about what the immediate response will be if we don't "do this now to appease the public".  Our actions have become governed by the media and restrained by our own fear of being the next headline racist even when we act under the color of law....even if we bare the same color of skin.  

Then there's that moment.  A moment that makes or breaks us as cops.  It makes us question our faith, our priorities, our morals.  Yes, it's fun to chase the bad guys, it's rewarding to catch them, but it's downright humbling when a true victim is able to say thank you. 

Fellow law enforcement officers have agreed to share those moments in order for me to write them down and share with others.  A few have said it was therapeutic and they were glad to have had the chance to finally talk about it.  I give full credit to the brave men and women I am so blessed to work with for opening old wounds, picking old scars, and allowing me to pry a little bit.  

More will be added in a second installment after I get the first one launched so message me if you'd like your #coplife story included.  

With each story I've edited and typed I saw a part of me in that officer/deputy.  It humbled me to know just how vulnerable we all are.  This is my #coplife.

  

Color of Justice

My news feed, social networks and blog rolls are full of snarky remarks about Justin Beiber's mug shot.  I laugh at the comparison to Miley Cyrus, and wonder if the justice system would actually prosecute him for his crimes or even deport his candy ass back to Canada.   Then I see this headline: Kerchner pleads guilty in Brevard deputy shooting case.

I watched the news clip on this and scoffed at the plea deal they gave her.  She won't serve 12 years.  Political BS will end up releasing her early to community control because of over-crowding in the prisons or good behavior.  I doubt she'll make six months of being released from prison before she violates her probation for drugs or something stupid she can't seem to get away from.  It will happen.  The same people are arrested for committing the same crimes over and over because they are creatures of habit.  Even with support bad habits are hard to break. 

My sympathy goes out to Andrea Kerchner's father.  Don't roll your eyes.  The man is still her father regardless of her actions, and his statements were made through feelings of hurt, anger, confusion, and guilt.  The article mentioned a son who was murdered, another son who is law enforcement, and Andrea who rebelled and left home at a young age where she ended up heavy into drugs. 

His view on his daughter's involvement: "The fact remains that she wouldn't have done it and didn't have any part in it, but she will have to pay for being in the wrong place at the wrong time."

No, Mr. Kerchner, the fact remains she did have a part in it.  She chose to be there and that didn't change until the split second between her handing Bradley the gun and him pulling the trigger, to her yelling for him to hurry up and go.  

Kerchner wasn't allowed to face Pill's family as she apologized in court.  "I'm very sorry for the family's loss," she said. "I was on a lot of drugs. I don't have any excuse for my actions." 

Her apology is hard to hear over the court's decision barring law enforcement from wearing uniforms or other insignia during Bradley's trial.  One of his attorney's believes a "sea of blue and green" would influence the jury and diminish Bradley's right to a fair trial.  I believe the attorney is ignorant.  Limiting the audience to plain clothes will not prevent law enforcement presence.  

Deputy Pill's family is not confined to her widower and sons.  The attorneys forget that It extends well beyond the courtroom walls and bleeds into the entire community of Brevard County.  When Bradley stands trial there will be a strong law enforcement family presence.  

I call upon my brothers and sisters in the public safety sector (police/fire/etc.) to show your support and wear blue and green shirts to the trial.  A "sea of blue and green" can be the color of justice for #644. 

One Year Ago...

One year ago today a fellow deputy was killed in the line of duty.  Barbara Pill’s name is etched on a memorial, but more so her legacy is etched in the hearts and minds of those who knew her.  She walked the thin blue line where sometimes there’s justice and sometimes there’s just us.  May we all remember the reason we do this job and to make it worth doing for those that come in behind us. 

My thoughts and prayers go out to the families of all our LEOs who made the ultimate sacrifice.  Thank you for your service.  644 EOW

End of Watch

A silence fell across Brevard County, it spread across the country to reach as far as overseas. Cell phones rang, text messages chimed, and social media spread the news like wildfire as everyone panicked to find out if their loved one was okay. God called an angel home today.

A fellow deputy, veteran of 30 years in law enforcement, ran to the fight. She stood in the line of fire to protect and serve her community. Barb, I give my humble thanks to you for your service. You’re guidance and mentorship will be passed on to many future deputies. Your story will be retold a thousand times over of your heroism and sacrifice. There is no justice for the loss of a loved one. There are no words for the emotions those left behind will have to face. The one thing we all know is that God gave us a guardian angel today we will call by name. Deputy Sheriff Barbara Pill, end of watch March 6, 2012. God Bless.

Today, I had no words to give loved ones as the calls and messages poured in asking if I was okay other than ‘Yeah’. The comments left on my social media pages tugged at my heart as I saw the support from friends all over the world. The most surreal moment today was when my 13 year old son asked for me when I got home. He and I have a “butt heads and never see eye-to-eye” relationship.

I walked in his room where he was already tucked in bed. He looked at me and asked, “Was she a friend?” I replied, “Yeah. She was an awesome friend.” He sat up with open arms and gave me a big hug. I promised him I would be an old woman before I die and that I would be around a long time to stay on his butt about everything. Then he squeezed me a little tighter and said, “I love you, mom.” That moment made me realize the difference I make. My husband and boys are my strength, and my greatest weakness. I thank God for them.

****

For those who get upset with law enforcement when you get pulled over, they show up at your door because your neighbor complained about you, or you see cops sitting at a coffee shop and think of the stereotype, think about this:

On a daily basis we get called to the interstate for a reckless driver that turns into a deadly traffic crash; to an area where there was a 9-1-1 hangup with no other information only to find it was a wanted felon waiting to ambush us; to a domestic violence call where a kid beat up mom or mom beat a kid, where a guy beat his girlfriend to death in front of her kids; we get called to the scene where a child was sexually abused by a relative, then the next call is in a suburb where there’s a noise complaint from a neighbor. On a daily basis we arrive on scene with limited information and are expected to solve the publics’ problems in minutes that took them years to create.

On a daily basis we face the unknown dangers of a traffic stop, a 9-1-1 hangup, a fight in progress, a robbery or burglary, or a person with mental issues who went off their meds and isn’t law enforcement friendly. On a daily basis we go hours if not a full shift without eating or being able to stop and use a bathroom. We endure public ridicule at the cost of protecting their freedom of speech.  On a daily basis we are moving targets for the bad guys who hunt us just as we hunt them.

Now think about this: At the end of shift, by the grace of God and our training, we go home. We sit down with loved ones who ask, “How was your day?” You don't tell them the bad.  My reply, “Another busy day. How was yours?”

I ask only this of my friends and family, of my readers, of my critics: Think of your worst fear, multiply it by infinity, and look over your shoulder as you run away. You’ll see us running to face what you fear. It’s not about what we do, it’s about what we’re willing to do.  Today, Barb reminded us of that. 

http://www.floridatoday.com/article/20120306/NEWS01/120306010/Veteran-Brevard-deputy-killed-Melbourne-fleeing-suspects-detained?odyssey=nav%7Chead