Honor Them All: Maybe Someday We’ll Get Their Attention

This past weekend, I had the opportunity to travel to Washington, DC, for Police Week, where I volunteered at the Blue H.E.L.P. booth in Tent City.  We were able to meet so many people from all over the US and even from Europe, and share about our experiences with Blue H.E.L.P. since losing our loved ones to suicide.  I also had the honor of attending the National Peace Officers Memorial Ceremony on Sunday, as a guest of another family who had lost their loved one to suicide.  I have thought very long and very hard about what I want to say about my observations and experiences from the weekend, and I want to make clear that these are my personal observations and experiences.  I can’t speak for anyone else. 

So, let me explain a little about Tent City.  There were a huge amount of vendors, selling just about anything you could imagine.  There were tons of Thin Blue Line items, carnival food, drinks, toys for the children, special insoles, pain relieving bracelets, and booths that addressed Law Enforcement Mental Health.  It reminded me of the Tent Cities I’ve been to before at the AA International Conventions, only for cops instead of sober drunks.  As a volunteer, I could only speak about my experiences since Grubby took his own life and the support Abby and I have received from Blue H.E.L.P.  Honestly, if I had not found this organization, I don’t know how I would have made it through the past 15 months. 

Unfortunately, there is still a huge stigma attached to Law Enforcement Mental Health and Wellness.  There is still a stigma attached to Law Enforcement Suicide, as though those officers are somehow less worthy of respect and honors than the ones who died by other means.  We expect our officers to be ten-feet tall and bulletproof.  We expect them to be invincible.  We expect them to be impenetrable when it comes to feelings and emotions.  We treat them as though they can handle anything.  We don’t want to admit that they are human too.  I say “We” because I am speaking as a society in general. 

Our officers are expected to respond to murders, suicides, drug overdoses, mental disorders, acts of domestic violence, sexual assaults, child abductions, missing persons, people arguing over Spaghetti-Os and Hot Dogs (I am serious!  I took these types of calls as a 911 Telecommunicator!), and people who locked their keys in the car.  They are expected to do all of this with cell phone cameras everywhere and an unappreciative media and public waiting for one of them to screw up.  They are expected to do all of this and then, just let it all go.  Could you let it go?  We expect these things to not have any effect on them at all, and yet, they are human too.  These things do affect them, but there is still a huge amount of fear – fear that if they ask for help, they will be “benched”, they will lose the one thing that they are proud of, that they chose to do with their lives because they wanted to help, to protect, to serve.  Having been “benched” years ago when I asked for help, I absolutely understand the fear, and I hate to admit that it is not irrational. 

Meeting officers from all different levels of the chain of command, from all different states, and of all ages and backgrounds made me realize that, although we as Suicide Survivors feel left out, we are not as alone as we often feel.  Most of the people I met genuinely cared to hear our stories, and genuinely feel that Law Enforcement Suicide should be considered a Line of Duty Death.  Many did not realize that it is not.  Meeting these officers gave me hope – hope that someday, our loved ones will be honored with the others; that someday, our nation will recognize the need for better mental health resources, the need to smash the stigma, and the need to take care of those who take care of us.

After two exceptionally long days at Tent City, it was time to attend the National Peace Officers Memorial Service.  We got there early to make sure we were able to get good seats.  They were still setting up for the ceremony when we took our places in the front row to the right side facing the stage.  Our families were sitting alone in the very back row of the center section – the section reserved for those who had lost their loved ones, those who were there to honor an officer in the Roll Call.  As I looked through the program, I could not help but notice that the two families selected to honor their loved ones were listed in the very back of the program, after the Roll Call, and just before the K9s.  They were listed as “Acknowledgement of those officers who suffered in silence”.  Call it what it was!  They were survivors of officers we lost to suicide!!!  Why is everyone so afraid to say the word?  And why were our families listed down near the dogs?  Is that what the National Fraternal Order of Police thinks of our officers?  Anyone whose been following my blog knows that I love my Pugs, but if I’d had to choose between my husband and my Pugs, my husband would have won…  MOST days! 

During the ceremony, President Biden spoke.  He stated that more officers died by suicide than any other cause except Covid.  The President of the United States gets it, but the largest Police Union in the nation doesn’t?  I’m throwing the bullshit flag on that one!  They know, they just don’t want to see it! 

As the Roll Call was done, the families were escorted up by different Officers and Honor Guards to place a rose into the Memorial Wreath in honor of their loved ones as each name was read.  Then, they were escorted over to the tables, where they were greeted and given an engraved box memorializing their Officer.  As the list went on, the lawn of the Capitol building began to empty as families left once they had honored their loved one. 

Finally, it was time for our two survivors to make that walk up to the wreath, to hear their loved one’s name called and place a rose into the wreath in their honor.  There was no one scheduled to escort them.  High-ranking members of the Chicago Police Department waited through the entire ceremony to escort these two families simply because they were asked to by someone from Blue H.E.L.P.  They did not have to do it; they could have said, “No”, and left, but they did not.  They stayed because they understand that Officers lost to suicide are just as important as those who died from other causes.  They stayed because they chose to treat our families as equal and not less than.  As our families placed their roses and began to leave the area in front of the stage, there was no one to greet them, no box to be handed to them.  Those who had been greeting the other families just moments before actually turned away as our families approached them!  It was the first time I had seen the discrimination first-hand!    These two families represented ALL of us.  Although my husband’s name wasn’t read, that rose was for him too.

There were well over 500 names read during the Roll Call, with 439 of them having died from Covid.  Those names are forever memorialized on the National Law Enforcement Officers Memorial.  Our heroes are not.  

I’ve heard and read all sorts of comments and excuses about why suicides are treated differently, but that is all they are – excuses!  At least 156 Officers died by suicide in 2021.  I say “At least” because those are the ones we know about.  How many families or agencies did not report their loss to us?  I’ve heard, “We don’t want to glamorize suicide.”  What a ridiculous statement! Honoring a person’s life and service does not glamorize suicide!  I’ve heard that it’s a cowardly way out, but I don’t believe that at all.  My husband was not a coward.  He was not weak.  He was injured.  If his leg had been broken, he would have been able to go to the hospital and get help, but it wasn’t his leg… it was his mind.

The average person deals with 1-2 critical incidents over the course of their lives, whereas law enforcement personnel deal with an average of over 800 critical incidents during a 20-year career! Now, imagine that you go from one to the next to the next, and so forth… eventually, these take their toll and many of our very best officers begin to suffer with PTSI/PTSD.  Sometimes, they see no way out, no way to quiet their minds, and it comes to a head in a split second.  Many of them showed no signs, had no history of mental health issues, and were the last person anyone would ever expect.  

Many Officers who die by suicide are Top Cops, stellar performers who always wore their badge with honor and dignity.  Mine was.  Grubby had never been in trouble before, never even been written up.  He was one of the good ones, one of the ones who was in the job because he truly wanted to make a difference, because he felt a higher calling to serve his community and his country.  He was one of those who could make any department look good, and he often did.  He came out on his days off to help search for missing persons, once finding an elderly couple that had been missing for five days and saving the woman’s life (He never received a life-saving medal or commendation for it, but he didn’t care.  Her “Thanks” at the hospital the next morning was all he needed.).  They were at the bottom of a ravine right across the street from the house they lived in, but no one had found them until he went back to take another look.  He worked on his days off to help prepare for accreditation because he was asked to help, not because he so desperately wanted to help.

When an officer dies in the Line of Duty, even from Covid or a heart attack, the survivors are granted benefits, such as additional pay, pensions, health insurance, education, etc.  The minimum federal benefit payout is $376,000, not taking into account current salary rates, years worked, etc.  Those families don’t have to fight to prove the reason for the death so they can receive these benefits. 

When an Officer dies by suicide, the survivors receive $0.00 – Nothing, nada, zilch!  Many survivors are left with a mountain of household bills because their Officer was the main provider.  Many of us are not only left with the grief of losing our loved one, but we are also left with the trauma of finding them.  Many of us have so much trouble with our own PTSI/PTSD, anxiety, depression, “widow brain” that we are unable to work, unable to do regular household chores, unable to leave our homes…  When we as a nation fail to recognize their service because of the way they died, we fail these families – families who have already suffered the greatest loss are forced to continue suffering.  We have to fight to prove that the suicide was a direct result of the years of injuries sustained on the job.  We are treated as though we are somehow at fault.  My own Medical Examiner report summarized Grubby’s death as a suicide, and stated that there were “reports of problems at work and home.”  We had no problems at home.  We had no domestic abuse, no financial problems, no infidelity, no substance abuse, nothing. 

I saw people wearing shirts that said “Blue Lives Matter” and “In this family, no one fights alone”, and yet, that is what many of us are left doing – fighting alone, fighting a systematic bias that is so deeply embedded in the culture that the largest Police Union in the nation turned their backs on our families, treat us as an afterthought, see our Officers on the same level as the dogs.  I guess in their minds “Blue Lives Matter” when THEY say they matter, some “Blue Lives Matter” but not all.  Until ALL Blue Lives Matter, I will not stop fighting for those who can’t fight for themselves. 

I wish to take nothing away from the families who lost their loved ones to a Line of Duty Death, or Covid, or anything else.  Their loss is just as devastating, their pain just as real.  I only hope that someday, we will be treated as equals, that our losses will be revered and honored equally.

Engraved at the National Law Enforcement Officers Memorial in DC is a quote from Survivor Vivian Eney,

“It is not how these officers died that made them heroes. It is how they lived.”

#NotLODD #HonorThemAll #ALLBlueLivesMatter #SmashTheStigma #Myhusbandsbloodwasjustasred #Mygriefisjustasvalid