Toll…
These are just a few of the things I experienced being a police officer and the toll it has taken on me.
WARNING: The following post contains some sensitive content that may be upsetting to some, well, to most.
My body has taken a toll from being a cop for 40 years. I’ve gotten bruised, punched, shot at, had bones broken, and the latest, Leukemia. That’s just some of the physical injuries I received. In addition, my psychological well-being has taken its toll. For 40 years, I have been called every name you can think of. If I had a dollar (inflation) for every time someone said they’d have my badge or for me to get a real job, I’d be rich. Note: Every person I arrested or cited who told me to get a real job didn’t have a job.
The worst part to me were the dozens of dead children. SIDS deaths, drowned kids, death by suicide of young teenagers, kids abused so severely that they succumbed to their injuries. A 13-year-old girl was lured into a church by a church elder, tied up, raped & sodomized, and then had her head bashed in with a bat because the perpetrator did not want to get caught. It left a huge bloodstain on the church’s carpet, which the perpetrator tried to clean up unsuccessfully. No one from the church thought much of the stain. I ended up spending the night in the church, diagraming and guarding the scene. I still remember the smell, and I still remember the girl’s favorite song.
I had to go to suicide scenes, some so gory it was like it was unreal, then the notification to the family. There were so many times I was charged with death notifications. For some reason, the majority were kids that had gone off to college and were killed due to alcohol poisoning, overdosing on drugs and traffic accidents. I stayed with the families until I could get friends and other family members to their homes to be with them.
I remember giving medical aid as a first responder to kids and adults. Dozens lived, and some didn’t. I don’t remember many of the ones I saved, but I do remember the ones I couldn’t save, like the three-year-old I gave CPR to who died with his mother present. I have gone through therapy for the accumulation of dead children and continued my career until I finally retired in 2020. Now I’m working on getting well from the Bone Marrow Transplant I had from the Leukemia that I got from exposure to chemicals and hazardous materials while doing my job.
I used to think I’d do it again, but now with all this anti-police bullshit, I don’t think I would do it again.
Thoughts about Geneology
I am a fan of genealogical research of my family. I have gotten as far back on my surname line to the 1600s. I use MyHeritage.com and Ancestry.com. I am overwhelmed by the amount of information, hints, etc., so I need to follow up. I did solve a mystery of one of my 3rd great-grandmothers. I couldn’t figure out what her maiden name was. Her maiden name was the same as her husband’s because she was his 1st cousin. That explains a lot 🤪.
I love shows like “Who Do You Think You Are?,” and “Finding Your Roots.” But a couple things bug me about their presentation of the results. They commonly will tell a subject of their research, for example, that their 12th great-grandfather did this or that, and they overcame the odds to do that.
First, it bugs me when they say your 12th great-grandfather when it should be ONE of your 12th great-grandfathers. Do the math. You have 4,096 12th great-grandfathers.
Inevitably the show’s guests will say that’s where they must have gotten that trait, etc., on and so forth. Well, maybe, but just from your 12th great-grandparents down to you, you have 16,382 ancestors. When I realized this, it put things in perspective for me. What were the chances of you being you? The astronomical odds are astounding.
Scattered Thought 