Pat, Carl, and Rhonda

I write three blogs, this one, an inspirational blog, and a fishing blog. Each of them is a part of my life. Those parts are easy to separate or categorize most times, but not always. I suppose I could just write one blog and put it all together but for now I'm not. This post is about something that I had been thinking about and that happened while I was on my way back to the office from meeting with some clients and previewing their home so that is why it is here.

There are so many things in life I cannot make sense of. So many things. When I see something that “isn’t right” I want to fix it. I have energy, I can visualize, communicate, motivate, organize, and implement. I can bring people together. I can help a group set and achieve goals. Still, I can’t come close to fixing everything. I can’t even understand and process everything that happens in the world let alone fix what isn’t right.

I am horrified at the shootings of the four Lakewood police officers. Horrified. I have way more questions than I have answers? What is wrong with the world? What was wrong with the killer? His actions are beyond my comprehension. I don’t want to discuss the extradition issues with the state of Arkansas or the pardoning of the shooter. More importantly, what about the spouses and the nine children of the victims? What about them?! Are they now condemned to a lifetime of grief and seething rage? How could a person feel anything but that? What about the extended families of the victims? What about the baristas in the coffee shop where the shootings took place? How do all these people cope? What about the other officers in the Lakewood Police department? What about law enforcement officers in our state and across the country? How do they feel? What effect do the murders have on their lives? How could any of this happen? How the HELL could any of this happen and what can anyone do about it?! I don’t know; I just don’t know.

The part of me that wants to help, the part of me that wants to fix things that aren’t right, asks myself what I can do about this tragedy. When I was in the classroom I would ask 150 kids what we could do together. We would brainstorm, discuss, argue, and get frustrated, but finally, oh yes; we would wrap our minds and hearts around something and make it happen. No longer do I have 150 kids to plan with. Where do I direct my energy? I’m open. I’m open to lots of possibilities. What does one single person do? How do I make a difference? Do I go to the memorial service to show respect? Should I send the survivors a card? Should I call them? Should I make brownies for the local sheriff’s department? Should I send them a Christmas card? What do I do? What difference would any of these things possibly make? I don’t know the officer’s families and they don’t know me.

I have done some reading and research these past few days. The Washington State Attorney General reports that since 1854 more than 280 law enforcement officers have been killed in the line of duty. That’s almost one every 6 months for 155 years! How could this be happening? Clint Van Zant of Newsvine reports that so far in 2009, 111 law enforcement officers have been killed in the line of duty across the United States. In 2008, 138 were killed in the line of duty. That is a killing of an officer every three or four days! How can this be happening? What is wrong with the world? I don’t get it. I don’t understand. It disrupts my view of the world or at least the way I want to view the world. I just don’t understand.

I have so many more questions than I have answers. What does it feel like to be the surviving partner of a dead officer? If your spouse is an officer what does it feel like to send him or her to work every day? What toll does the worry take on your family? What does it feel like to have your son or daughter, your mother or father, risk their life every day? What is that like? What can I do about any of this? What can I do? I feel compelled to do something and I don’t know what to do. Like so many things, I don’t know; I just don’t know.

I look back over the decades as a teacher and recall things we did where I feel we made a difference. I ask myself what it takes to make a difference and why some things that we did worked so well. Organization, substance, involvement—these things and others were key elements to the success of various projects. Finally, I think it was more than that. When something was personal it had a much higher likelihood of being effective and memorable. We did a Leadership Retreat for 21 years. The agenda was strong, there was lots of buy in, but in the end it worked so well because it was personal. Our “Think About It…” campaign, designed to get kids to make safe and healthy choices, was extremely effective. The agenda was compelling, we were well organized, and we practiced extensively. All of that was important. It worked because it was personal. When we dedicated our Veteran’s Memorial it was inspiring because it was personal. The Memorial itself is moving because it too is personal for people. The classroom worked best when it was personal. Real estate sales work best when it is personal. There are so many things in life that work best when it is personal.

So what can I do to show law enforcement officers support that at least in some small way is personal?

I thought I would order magnet ribbons that say, “I support Law Enforcement Officers”. At first I thought I would sell them for cost to people and then I thought I would just give them away at no charge. Here’s an example. http://www.supportourribbons.com/custom-ribbon-magnet/289707/I-Support-Law-Enforcment-Officers I had 100 of them in my online cart. I wasn’t sure how to make it personal so I decided against ordering them. I knew that whatever I did had to be face to face; it had to be personal.


A new Facebook friend, Rhonda, one of my alumnae from the MPHS class of 1987, is a Sherriff’s Deputy here in Washington. She wrote in a message to me just this week, “My friend and partner, Anne Jackson, was murdered on Sept 2nd, 2008. It was devastating to me personally and to my department. I worked with Tim Brenton when he was in La Conner and am friends with Tim's step mom, so his murder three weeks ago really hit home. The recent murder of the four Lakewood Officers was unbelievable. We work so hard to keep good people safe, so it's unthinkable that a random, angry man would take the lives of 4 good people just trying to do something right.”

Twenty years ago, this Deputy, then a high school student, babysat my kids. It makes this all more personal to me. How does Rhonda deal with all of this? How does she cope from month to month, from day to day, from hour to hour? How does she deal with this? I don’t know. I just don’t know. You are in my thoughts and prayers Rhonda.

I was beginning to think that I needed to “stop an officer” or “pull over a cop”. I needed to calmly but directly introduce myself and thank him or her for the work they do. I needed to make it personal. It would mean more to that officer than a pan of brownies at the station, or me making a donation to some account. The trouble was that I didn’t have the slightest idea how I would actually stop an officer without causing him/her undue concern or interfere with their job performance, not to mention get myself in trouble.

On Monday of this week I was on my way back to my real estate office after meeting with some new clients and previewing their home. I was thinking about the value of the home, what it is going to take to get it ready to sell at the highest price and what some of the distinctive features are. Mixed in with those thoughts was my idea of “stopping an officer.” As I was thinking about it I passed two Brier Police Officers stopped on a side street. I drove past and thought, okay, I don’t even need to stop them, they are already stopped. I was nervous to do it but I turned my car around, went up the side street, parked and approached the patrol cars. I asked if I could talk to them and they said it depended on what I wanted. I introduced myself, told them a bit about myself and thanked them for the job they do. I shook both their hands. If middle age memory serves me correctly their names were Pat and Carl. They seemed genuinely appreciative. It was personal.

I still don’t have answers to all of my questions. The older I get the more I am reminded I never will have the answers. The number of questions is increasing more quickly than the answers.

Nothing I said or did that day fixes any of the tragedy of this past week.

At this moment the only thing I know is that for me to make even the smallest difference in the world around me, I need to make it personal. This story is not about me; it is about showing gratitude and respect in a simple but personal way. I am going to do it again; actually more than once.

Could I ask you to do it also please? Certainly thank someone you know who is in law enforcement but also thank someone you don’t know who is in law enforcement. Make it personal.

Thanks Pat. Thanks Carl. Thanks Rhonda.