Good Grief

Could grief enhance our ability as cops?

"I am at the age, 77, when the death of friends and loved ones is as inevitable and irrevocable as rain. I’ve come to accept that grief will be a major traveling companion in my life until my death. But the unexpected death of my close friend, fellow Bruin, and former NBA rival has staggered me. It has left me wobbly as if I’m trying to keep my balance on a small boat in the middle of a violent storm."

- Kareem Abdul-Jabbar on the passing of his friend Bill Walton

I read that quote today and immediately thought of a shooting and homicide at Harding and Iowa several years ago. Then of another at Homan and Chicago. Then I thought about the conversation and subsequent being lost in my own thoughts on my way to work in December 2022. I thought of the 4 kids I had to sit with after a domestic murder/suicide. Then of a man who watched his mother die at the hands of his step-father, thwarted an attempt on his own life, and then chased the murderer who kidnapped his child and fled.

Every cop who has been on the scene of a death knows THE scream. The agonizing, guttural scream of a family member who has just seen their loved one dead. Sometimes it is expected, like an elderly or sick family member and it is just a matter of time before they pass. Sometimes it is completely unexpected, such as an overdose or suicide. And for far too many it is the violent act of removing someone from this earth through another’s intentional action.

Sometimes, for us, it is being able to say goodbye at a funeral, go to DC for Police Week and spend time with coworkers, and get the rubbing of a name of a friend off the memorial wall. While there we hold each other and cry, tell stories, laugh, and generally remember our fallen brother or sister. But we grieve together and that’s what matters.

But what about grieving with the community over someone who we probably don’t know, or know only through our interactions as police?

Those previous interactions usually being because they broke the law and we scooped them up for it. Just because you may not live where you patrol doesn’t mean you are unable to connect and grieve with the community. That doesn’t mean crying and losing composure with the family. But it can mean holding someone in their moment of worst fears manifest. It can mean offering your contact information so they can reach out. Finding government funded resources. It can also mean just checking in from time to time.

I remember when Polo (his street name) was killed and a close friend of his seemed set on revenge. I purposely would go around his house and stop and talk. Ask him how he’s doing, anything he has heard, and asked for him to be smart about his next move. Eventually he, himself, got shot and semi-paralyzed. I continued to stop by and check on him, I was even elated when I saw him out of a wheelchair and on crutches hobbling around.

Was a still a gang member? Yes.

Was he still slinging dope? Yes.

Was he, or one of his nearby cohorts, illegally carrying a firearm? I’d say so.

But was he still another human who lost a friend and was going through his own process and adjustment to the new arrangement of his life? Definitely.

Did I cry with him or hold him? Not at all, he’d probably hobble away if I exited the squad car and walked up to him, after all, he was still out there doing his thing.

YesBut I did let him know that I understood he was going through some stuff and that I was someone he could come to rely on and approach without fearing anything other than my company.

Did we hangout outside of work? Definitely not.

When we celebrate the life of one of our own, whether that is a coworker, family member, or friend, we do so in order to take time with others and grieve. Not everyone cries at a funeral, I for one don’t. That doesn’t mean we aren't grieving, it is just different for everyone.

When I got a call on my way into work that my friend and coworker, Elena, had died I was shocked and silent. The next several days I can remember going through a myriad of emotions. Anger that suicide is all too common in the policing profession, but also for CPD. Sad that a great person and good cop was no longer with us. Happy at the thought I had a chance to know her and work with her. And heartbreak that so many other friends, who were closer to her, were hurting so much more than I was.

And there was nothing I could do to help them.

Just like with the gang member, I check in (or at least try to) with the friends who have had to experience the grief deeper than I did. Sometimes it is just a "thinking-of-you” text, sometimes it is deeper, other times I just say a prayer silently to myself that they are doing good. Just because we may not be directly experiencing the grief doesn’t mean we can’t be involved or have some sort of experience from it as well.

I think cops who get involved in a case, even if you know it is never going to be solved, and experience the grief that the loved ones go through will enhance your ability to show compassion on a call. In a field where compassion is hard to find most times, being the one who can show it will not only bring others some grief relief, it will allow you as a cop to process the trauma you’re experiencing more thoroughly and deeper. Sometimes that processing has to get put off, but I think, as I’ve experienced it, taking some time, maybe reaching out to those most effected, will bring a sense of hope to you as well.

I don’t know, maybe I care a little too much. I know what it is like to be completely removed from a situation and how that experience has affected me more than when I tried to be a participant in it with others. While the screams of the dying or of the loved ones as they find out will never truly go silent for us, taking a minute to experience the loss to humanity one life creates a little deeper than a name, DOB, and descriptors in a case report will bring a little closure to us.

Closure to those of us in uniform who never really get to “lose” those who others have lost, and maybe that will bring a little more peace to our minds and souls. Hopefully that peace will bring a little more stability to us so we can continue to go out, call after call, and be that stability for someone else who just experienced one of the worst things a human has to come to grips with.

Death.