My Passions

"It is not how these officers died that made them heroes, it is how they lived."
~Vivian Eney Cross, Survivor~

I have two major passions in life – other than my family, of course. They are my biggest passion but I do have other interests. One of those passions is remembering and honoring law enforcement officers who have been killed in the line of duty. Why am I so passionate about this? Oh let me count the ways...

I had only been married a couple of months when my husband dropped the bombshell that he wanted to be a cop. I thought he was nuts – and told him so – but I supported him anyway. Once he graduated the academy and was a real, honest to goodness law enforcement officer (he began as a Park Ranger) I thought it was pretty cool. Then he transferred and became a “real” cop. Oh, the Park Ranger was a “real” cop too - fully sworn and with full arrest powers - but there was just something, I dunno – bigger? – about being a city police officer. I don’t know that I ever said it out loud, but I was kind of proud to be a cop’s wife. It seemed that we had some kind of prestige or higher social standard or some kind of nonsense like that. This opinion was only mine, of course. Hubby dear was much more grounded than I and never considered himself better or more important than anyone else. Once the romanticism of the job subsided and reality set in (I think it only took about a year after he became a city cop), I learned that being a cop’s wife came with a price. You spend entirely too much time alone and when you have kids, you pretty much have all the disadvantages of a single parent.

After about 5 years, our department lost an officer in the line of duty - our first experience with this sad happening. He was young, single and the son of a preacher. I didn’t know him personally but it affected me in a way that I can’t begin to explain. I didn’t understand at the time why it should have hit me so hard. This young man – a hero he was called by his department – stayed on my mind for months after his death. It was another four years before we lost another officer and less than two weeks after that, another. This time it was someone I’d met. The first officer left a wife pregnant with their first child. The second was divorced with school-aged children. When I walked up to his casket and looked down on him, it hit me like a ton of bricks – that could be my husband! No, they didn’t look anything alike but they were about the same age and worked together. Through the years, we lost more officers and I learned that it never gets easier. Each time I saw the widows with their children I knew that there, but for the grace of God, go I.

With each passing year, I became more and more aware of how blessed we were. I had so much respect for the families of officers who made the supreme sacrifice and I also had empathy for the wives (and mothers). My heart broke for the children who would grow up with only one parent. I wanted to do something but what? Then, in 2000, my life changed forever. I discovered National Police Week.

That first time was a fluke, really. I had to be in Fairfax, VA for a meeting and told an internet friend that since I was so close, I’d come into DC for the ceremony happening that evening. I thought that I’d get to experience something kinda cool and meet in person the lady I’d talked to online for over a year. The Good Lord definitely knows how to choose His timing. I got a double whammy – two emotion packed ceremonies at once since one had been postponed the night before due to the weather.

Several other things happened within the next few days that made my first Police Week something to be reckoned with but I’ll go into all of that at another time. Suffice it to say that my first Police Week experience changed my life. I’ve not missed one since and as long as I’m able to make the trip, I never will.

The names of over 19,000 fallen officers are engraved on the National Law Enforcement Officer’s Memorial (www.nleomf.com) in Washington DC. Each year during Police Week, the names of the previous year’s fallen officers are added. I am there every year to honor and remember those officers - and to support their survivors.

Oh yeah – seven years ago, my husband retired. We made it through to the other side. I’d like to say we were lucky but, truly, luck has nothing to do with it.