When Words Are Not Enough

We arrived in Newtown this afternoon. There is a steady stream of visitors paying their respects. There is an endless array of memorials all throughout the town. Despite there being hundreds of people walking along the street viewing the memorials there is a very eerie quiet throughout the town. Everyone here is numb. I can't find the words right now to express what Taylor and I have experienced today so until I do I will let these pictures speak for us. May you all have a peaceful Christmas Eve.

"That's Who We Are"

     (1) email; (4) days; (over $6000); (over 100 toys)

That's right...the generosity of so many people is absolutely amazing. What started with an email stating Taylor and my intentions to travel to Newtown and our desire to deliver gifts to many of the people most intimately affected by the tragedy, has culminated in a pick up truck load of toys and thousands of dollars in gift cards to be donated to teachers, firefighters and police officers. All in just four days. Four of the busiest days of the year, and yet so many people found time, no, made time, to give to this cause. The first day after the email was sent I arrived home with my Trailblazer literally filled to the ceiling with toys and my front seat lost in a sea of gift cards. Later that evening I met up with a friend and fellow officer and told him how incredible the initial response had been. I told him I could not believe how many people wanted to be a part of this. His response was poignant; " That's who we are." His words only reiterated what I already knew. Police Officers are often chastised as insensitive, cynical and many other derogatory words. Yet, time and again I have witnessed our law enforcement family come together to support those in need. More than one of the officers I collected donations from literally cried because they were so upset about the tragedy and so moved by our efforts. Nothing insensitive about that. 

But this has been about much more than the police community and their generosity. It has been about a community and its generosity. Its about the owner of Fun and Games toy store who gave several boxes of nice new toys for the cause. Its about the random stranger in the toy store who overheard a conversation about the trip and offered up $25 on the spot. Its about the employees of Sandy Spring Bank whom I know from personal experience give generously to many causes throughout the year and were able to come up with several hundred dollars and three bags of toys in less than 24 hours. Its about the child that asks that their gift card be given specifically to a male teacher because she has been so impressed by her male math teacher. Its the neighbor that hears what you are doing and insists on being included. There are so many people within the police department and in the community as a whole who have given generously.

In sum, its the human experience that makes this so special. During one of my many stops to pick up donations I had a conversation with a woman whose best friend worked with my father at Holy Cross Hospital. She told me how her friend has often talked about what a good man my father was. My father passed away three years ago and it was the single greatest loss I have ever experienced. It was such a gift to hear from someone that my dad had touched their life. For that I am especially grateful to have become involved in this cause. 

Taylor writing thank you cards to the Sandy Hook Elementary teachers and enclosing gift cards.

       

Doing Something for Newtown

                                            

As you probably know by now my daughter, Taylor, and I have decided to collect donations and travel to Newport, CT on Christmas Eve to deliver gifts to the teachers of Sandy Hook Elementary School, the police  and fire rescue personnel and to take toys to the children of the community. The response we have received has been nothing short of overwhelming (more on that later). But the most appropriate place to start writing about our mission is to answer the question I have received over and over the past few days; "What made you decide to do this? Do you have a connection to that area?" The answer to the second part of the question is no. I mean, yes. Let me explain. I do not know anyone from the Newtown, CT area nor do I have any family from the area. So, in that sense, no I do not have a connection to the area. However, I am a father, a police officer and a teacher; therefore, yes, I have quite a significant connection to the area ever since last Friday.

Lately I have found myself caught up in my own problems and somewhat indifferent to the world around me. But recently a friend posted a quote on Facebook that said something like, "If we all put our problems into one big pile, we would probably quickly try to take ours back." I read that quote the day before the unthinkable tragedy happened at Sandy Hook. It stuck in my head for the rest of the day. Then the news broke the following day. Sadly, active shooters in public places have become so common place in our society that at first glance it seems we are almost becoming desensitized to how horrifying such an event is. But this one was different. Not to diminish any of the other tragedies that involved active shooters, but this one specifically targeted children....babies. Not only were many beautiful, joyful children killed. But so many that survived have had their innocence stolen from them. Could a parent ever send their child off to kindergarten or first grade with their Spider Man or Hello Kitty lunch boxes and backpacks and even fathom that the child would not come home that day? And so, as a parent of an 8 year old, I sat in her school auditorium the other day watching she and her classmates jubilantly singing and dancing during their holiday show and I held back tears the whole time wondering how anyone could ever bring such carnage to such a peaceful and innocent setting. Perhaps even more disturbing, one of my next thoughts was "I did not wear my gun here, what if something happens?" How sad that as a police officer I must constantly be on alert for an active shooter wherever I go, including the peaceful setting of my daughters elementary school.

I have been a part time teacher for the past ten years. While at the holiday show I also watched the teachers scurrying around to make sure the kids were in the right places and subtly reminding them of their lines when they forgot them. I thought about how blessed we are to have so many teachers devoted to their careers and to shaping our children into caring and responsible people. I related with them in the sense that those we teach we think of in some way as our own. We take responsibility in making sure they are cared for, treated respectfully and safe. And I wondered how the teachers of Sandy Hook can ever recover from this incident. I thought about the heroic effort of the teacher that hid her children in the closet and lied to the shooter about where they were....and gave her life so that her students would be cared for, treated respectfully and safe.






Finally, as a police officer I have done and seen many things in my over 20 year career. As a patrol officer I have been first on the scene of horrific crimes. One incident that has burned an impression in my mind was the death of a three year old girl many years ago. I have never quite been able to get over the sadness I felt as I looked at that lifeless child. I had a three year old daughter myself at the time. How could I ever put that incident in the context of what happened to all those children at Sandy Hook and what the first responder's at that scene must be dealing with. I have also been a homicide detective in my career. Without question the absolute worst duty to perform is to notify someone that a family member has died. I can not begin to imagine how difficult it must have been to notify 20 sets of parents that their small children had died in this unthinkable way. Nor to tell the family of six devoted teachers with so much still to offer the world that they too had died in such a senseless manner.

And so, as a parent, a teacher and a police officer, yes, I have a strong connection to Newtown, CT.

My three year old that I mentioned is now 20 years old and is my partner in this mission. She is no small contributor to my inspiration for doing this.

Please continue to follow Taylor and my journey through this blog. You have all been so generous and kind and are all part of this journey with us. We think of ourselves as the messengers for you all and hope you will stay connected with us.

Why We Lose the War on Drugs

    So what ever happened to the war on drugs? Obviously after 9/11 our law enforcement priorities took a sharp turn in a different direction. But now, 11 years later, though there is still a pressing need to remain vigilant against terrorist threats, we should be able to re-focus some attention on combating drug trafficking. The drug trafficking industry remains as viable as ever and in many instances more violent. Thoughtful arguments rage on concerning the impact of legalizing drugs or at least decriminalizing personal use amounts. This is not intended to take a position in that argument; rather to refocus our attention to impacting drug traffickers responsible for the scourge created in many of our communities by the physical, social and emotional impact left in the wake of hard core drug addiction.

     The fundamental question every front line law enforcement officer must ask themselves is why do we lose this war? I propose two answers for this question. First, drug traffickers are more innovative and versatile than law enforcement. Second, they want to win more than we do.

    Those of us in law enforcement tend to be type "A" personalities with great confidence in our skills and abilities and often an unrealistic sense of our effectiveness. But at the same time we sell ourselves short by succumbing to attitudes such as "we only catch the dumb ones." Is that what we aspire to do? How can a war be won if we only catch the dumb ones? Are we conceding that the smart ones are smarter than us? In my estimation it is not that they are smarter than us, it is that they are more innovative, creative and flexible in their methods of operation than we are. A drug trafficker is only limited by their imagination in coming up with methods to communicate with co-conspirators, transport their product to areas of demand, distribute the product to customers, and manage the substantial financial aspect of the business without being detected. With these four key elements of drug trafficking in mind (communication, transportation, distribution, finances) it may be a useful exercise to ask yourself, "How would I do it?" Or better yet, "If the consequences of failing included losing my livelihood and freedom how would I do it?" If we want to catch the smart ones, we must think like the smart ones. When you have developed ideas that answer the question of how you would do it if losing your livelihood and freedom were at stake then focus your enforcement efforts in those areas. For instance, maybe you decided you would only text message your associates rather than speak on the phone and risk possibly being intercepted by a wiretap. With that in mind, are you routinely seizing cellphones from those you arrest for drug violations and legally searching the contents (particularly text messages) to gain potentially invaluable intelligence and evidence? Or, maybe you decided you would send your product in parcels through the mail to minimize your physical handling and involvement in transporting the product. If so, are you routinely patrolling and conducting surveillance on the parcel shipment businesses in your community? Are you cultivating informants from the employees at these businesses? You see, it does not take rocket science to win this, just good old fashioned and innovative police work.

    As for who wants to win more..it may come down to understanding who has more to lose. The drug trafficker is at risk of losing their livelihood and freedom. It is difficult to come up with a pair of motivators greater than this. However, what do we stand to lose? Is our world going to drastically change if we choose to apply marginal if any effort towards proactive drug enforcement? In the short term probably not. But viewed in a broader sense we potentially have so much more to lose. First and foremost, we could lose our life by not being as well trained and sharp with our observation skills and knowledge of drug trafficking methods of operations. The failure to recognize clues related to drug trafficking could mean the failure to survive when unwittingly confronting an individual conducting an act that could cost them their livelihood and freedom if they fail. Perhaps taking deadly action against an officer who threatens this is their only perceived way of survival. In addition, we are each impacted at a personal level by the fallout of drug abuse in our communities. Most recently for me this has come with the news that a friend and colleague in the law enforcement community lost a son to a heroin overdose after many years of struggling with addiction, stints in prison, and leaving a family in constant despair. My friend, who is a retired officer, will now not only deal with the grief of losing a child, but also the stress of raising his two grandchildren that were left behind. This is certainly not the retirement life my friend envision. I submit, that we indeed should want to win the war as much as our opponents and should be even more diligent and aggressive in locating, investigating and prosecuting drug traffickers.

Some Special Mothers

Today I participated in the Police Week 5k running in memory of my good friend Officer James Walch, who died in the line of duty on January 25, 1994. As I walked around the Law Enforcement Memorial after the race my attention was captured by one momento in particlar that had been left on the wall. It was a paper with the name "Renee Azure" inscribed on it with the handwritten message, "Happy Mother's Day Mommy, Love Faith!" Since tomorrow is Mothers Day I wanted to take the opportunity to recognize a few special mothers who have served as police officers. This is a very small sampling of many brave and dedicated women who have worn the badge.

Renee Azure died in an automobile accident on August 6, 2002. According to the Officer Down Memorial Page, Deputy Azure was the first female officer to serve for the Union County, Florida Sheriff's Office. Deputy Azure was merely 23 years old when she died in an automobile accident while responding to a burglary. Deputy Azure's daughter was 3 years old at the time. As I look at the sign left by Faith for her mom on the wall it dawns on me that she must be 12 or 13 years old now; such an important time in the relationship of mothers and daughters. Deputy Azure's story is one of far too many heroic and tragic cases involving brave female officers. A touching memorial page dedicated to Deputy Azure can be viewed here.

More recently, on March 6, 2012, Deputy Barbara Pill, of the Brevard County, Florida Sheriff's Office, was gunned down  by a heartless coward in a stolen vehicle. Deputy Pill had served in Law Enforcment for 30 years. She had two sons who are Law Enforcement Officers and a grandchild.  It is hard to digest Deputy Pills' death. She served for so long and should be enjoying watching her grandchild grow. But she selfishly and heroically died while proactively confronting a career criminal and trying to keep her community safe. Learn more about Deputy Pill and view her son's heartbreaking eulogy here.

As I write this, Key Biscayne, Florida Police Officer Nelia Real is fighting for her life after being shot by a carjacker. Officer Real had stopped to assist with what appeared to be a traffic accident. She did not know that one of the parties invovled was an armed carjacker who ruthlessly opened fire on her as she approached. A grim reminder of how unpredictable and dangerous every activity we undertake on this job can be. More details regarding this incident can be found here.

After honoring the tragic stories mentioned above, I wanted to add an uplifting story. Please view this special story about three sets of mother/daughter officers who serve the Prince George's County, Maryland Police Department. Congratulations Officer LaVonne Dickerson and (mother) Cpl. Loretta Williams; Officer Alicia Jernigan and (mother) Lt. Sandi Jernigan; and Officer Rebecca Frankenfield and (mother) Lt. Stephanie Frankenfield. Your family's dedication and service is greatly appreciated!

Finally, I would be remiss without honoring my Mother. Although she has never been a police officer she has been the devoted wife and mother of officers. Happy Mothers Day, Mom!

A Team Like No Other

As members of the law enforcement community we have a very unique perspective on what it means to be part of a team. In baseball, "having each others backs" means pushing and shoving in the midst of a pile of people after a batter is intentionally hit by a pitch; no one willing to throw a punch, but everyone eager to look like they are playing the part. In police work, we literally have each others backs in  life and death encounters where the stakes are at their highest. Few other professions experience the kind of bond officers have for one another as a result of knowing we can count on each other in the darkest moments.

This story is not one of bravery or heroism where a fellow officer pulled me from the line of fire or wrestled a gun away from a suspect just before he was about to shoot me. But it nevertheless epitomizes the bond of brotherhood that I share with my fellow officers. As a homicide investigator in a jursidiction that has about 20 murders per year, a great deal of my time is spent investigating unattended deaths (DOA's), to make sure they are not homicides. Often, the challenge in these cases is not so much conducting a complex investigation, as it is dealing with the conditions in which the body is found.

Recently, I was the only investigator in the office when I received a call from a patrol officer on the scene of a DOA requesting me to respond. "You are not going to believe the condition of this place," I was warned by the officer. "We have been airing it out since we got here but it hasn't even made a difference." More specific, I was informed that the body was in advanced stages of decomposition and that the deceased had numerous pets in the home including three cats, two birds and a dog, which was found dead next to the dead man. Apparently, the animals had free reign of the house with no efforts made to clean up after them, no litter boxes for the cats, and the dog was seemingly rarely taken outside. Feces covered the floors of every room in the house. The smell was indescribable. Needless to say, this is not the call you go to work everyday hoping to get.

As I hung up the phone and prepared to respond to the scene, my Sergeant asked what the call was about. I described in detail what I had been told over the phone and without any hesitation, he said, "I will go with you." This is a case that we could typically handle alone and I had no expectation of any of my shift mates going with me, especially considering the circumstances. Yet, the Sarge insisted, "I'll come along, you don't have to handle that alone." We responded to the scene and he was right there next to me, every squalid step of the way. I know that had my shift mates not been tied up with other things and were present when I took that call each of them would have had the same response as Sarge. Partly because we each share the bond found only on the team we play for. Partly because we have a Sargeant that leads by example. I challenge each of you to ask yourself if you are the kind of teammate that would say, "I will go with you." I am very proud to be part of this team!

Remembering a Friend

I just registered for the Police Week 5k on May 12th. Being an avid runner, filling out online race registrations has become a pretty mindless and mundane activity. In fact, my information tends to autoload in many of the fields since I have done it so often. But today I was caught off gaurd by one of the information blocks on the registration; "running in memory of..."

In an instant my mind raced back to the cold winter night of January 25, 1994. I was finishing up my last night on the midnight shift (we rotated shifts weekly back then). I was a young and still very naive "veteran" officer with a whole year and a half under my belt. You could say I had a "flame" a mile long and was constantly on the prowl for criminal activity. My former FTO turned beat partner, Jim Walch, was quite my opposite. A Marine who lived by the mantra of "run your calls and back people up" and when you are not doing that be seen and not heard! Jim was constantly irritated by my need to be active and my calling out with suspicious situations which disrupted his reading sessions in the park. Make no mistake, Jim would always be the first one on the scene to back me up and I could hear him coming a mile away.

In the early morning hours of January 25th, 1994, even I was starting to wear down from a week of midnight shifts and looking forward to getting home and sleeping it off. Jim and I met for a cup of coffee a couple hours before the shift ended and had a great conversation, mostly about his ex-wife and the frustration she caused him and my daughter who was hitting the "terrible two's" at the time. When we parted ways Jim headed into the station to turn in a report and I headed to the 24 hour grocery store to buy diapers. We said goodbye until our daywork shift started three days later. Little did I realize at the time we were saying goodbye forever.

Had I known what would happen I never would have gone for those diapers. The store was quite a bit out of my way, but the only place that was open at five o'clock in the morning. While en route, I came to a red light behind two Honda Accords. Something about them aroused my suspicion as a approached them. For some reason they appeared to be together. This was confirmed as they both sped through the red light and made a u-turn. Suddenly my flame was reignited! I quickly turned behind them and attempted to pull them over (not thinking through how I was tactically and safely going to pull two cars over at once by myself). It did not matter, they were not about to stop. I would find out later that both cars had just been stolen moments before I came upon them. The chase was on. What happened next is a blur of tunnel vision one encounters when their adrenaline is bursting through their body. This is a summary of my memories:

• One of them is fishtailing
• When did the roads get icy?
• 1J1 I'm in a pursuit
• Crash, bail out, chasing on foot
• A lot of chaotic traffic on the radio
• Why are they not restricting radio traffic for me, I'm in a pursuit
• How long is this guy going to be able to run before he tires out
• Where the hell is my backup?
• Get on the ground Mother F-----
• 1J1 one in custody
• That's right, I caught your ass!
• Where the hell is my backup?

The next transmission I recall hearing on the radio was my Sergeant saying "Advise Car 10 its a confirmed 5300, 1 J 5." Translated this meant, advise the night supervisor Officer Walch was killed in a car accident. When I called out with the pursuit Jim had immediately turned around and started heading my way as fast as he could. In the minutes since we parted ways the temperature must have dropped just enough to create "black ice" on the road because it had not been icy all night prior to that. Jim's cruiser slid on a patch of ice and crashed into a telephone pole, bursting into flames. He died instantly.

As a 23 year old this was the first time life had really kicked me in the gut. For a long time I harbored alot of guilt and felt responsible for Jim's death. In the short time we worked together we had grown very close and I learned an awful lot from him. Its now 18 years later and I still think about him almost every day.

On May 12th, I will be running in memory of Officer James Walch, and I hope you will be too!

To register for the Police Week 5K visit http://nationalpoliceweek5k.com/.

And remember, run your calls and back each other up!