The Evolution of a Cop

By Richard Hannibal

Talk to most cops in the first year or two of their career and you will perceive a certain air of confidence, a naïve innocence of youth. Fresh from the police academy, they have all the answers and have yet to experience life's injustices. Talk to these same cops in their 5th year and beyond and there will be a quiet reluctance to share; a certain loss of innocence and a kind of impotency that comes with experiencing failure. It is accumulative.

I lost my innocence when an enraged father tried to stop the crying of his four-month-old daughter by bashing her head against a wall. I remember a frantic Code-3 race to the trauma center with my partner next to me trying to breathe life into the bloody infant. The baby never cried again.

As the years went by, the "accumulation of events" continued—a shooting here, a suicide by cop there, a child consumed in the flames of a wrecked car, and, most recently, the failed attempt to bring back to life an 8-year-old boy who drowned in a local motel swimming pool. No matter how I and my Police Volunteer partner tried, we could not revive the boy; it was not meant to be; it was another in the accumulation of events.

I've been a seasoned veteran for some time now and I work with respected seasoned veterans. We are not close friends. We don't have each other over to our homes for dinner, but there is a bond that holds us together. It is the bond that comes from the accumulation of events. Our eyes have lost some luster and our senses are somewhat dulled, but we continue on in our life's work and somehow prevail.

One of our veterans recently responded to a call of an infant who was not breathing. This veteran is the result of years of training, experience, and knowledge. Like me, he has seen just about everything a cop can see; things that are usually hidden from most folk's perceptions; things that should not be seen or experienced. As a veteran and professional, he gave his all to bring life back to the infant, but it was not meant to be. Everyone suffers in these cases. Of course the infant's family suffers immensely. Then there is the dispatcher who took the frantic call, the veteran's assisting officers, and, of course, the valiant paramedics who did everything humanly possible to stem the accumulation of events.

We all walk away from such incidents, wondering why and feeling somewhat dejected. But, we are ready to take on the next challenge. Some of us fall by the wayside early in our careers. But many of us hold on to the wonderful purpose this job gives us. Anyone who tells you they have the answer is lying. They may have a fleeting glimpse of the answer, but that is it. All we can do—citizen and police officer alike—is help each other when one of us falters or falls.

All we as police officers can do is use what power we have in our sacred badge to help the powerless. All we can do is our best and hope the accumulation of events does not overtake us. Cops get paid for what they do AND for what they may have to do. I assure you, the payment is not in money and benefits. The real payment is much deeper than that. It is something many of us were born with and all of us will die with; some sooner than others. It is the Sacred Trust that was bestowed on us along with the badge; the Sacred Trust to keep our society out of the jungle and cave until we can all find the Answer together . . . the final accumulation of events.