09/03/2026
Long post, but worth the read. This is what our officers go through daily. There are many more resources for officers these days to help process their mental health. Officers please reach out if you need help. To the civilians reading this, here is a glimpse into the career of a police officer.
This post was written 11 years ago today by a patrol officer in Arizona. He is still patrolling the streets today, 27 years into his career. Im sure the wounds, scars, and numbers have gone up, but he still protecting the citizens of this state:
I am now a police officer 24 hours a day, 7 days a week and 365 days a year. In 1999, I took an oath to serve my community. “I do solemnly swear (or affirm) that I will support the Constitution of the United States and the Constitution and laws of the State of Arizona, that I will bear true faith and allegiance to the same and defend them against all enemies, foreign and domestic, and that I will faithfully and impartially discharge the duties of the office of ____ (name of office) ___ according to the best of my ability, so help me God (or so I do affirm).” I have honored that oath for the past 16 years.
The job of a police officer does not come without wounds. These wounds aren’t always physical or visible, but are guaranteed to be emotional. There is no way to do this job without being wounded and one can only hope or pray they heal into manageable scars. I tell my story not to boast or seek sorrow, but instead just understanding from those who only get to look through the window at what it’s like to be a police officer.
I have been involved in over 45,000 documented calls for service. That number doesn’t include traffic stops, field interviews, and non-enforcement citizen contacts. I would guess with those included the number would be well over 60,000. The documented calls include 70 rapes, 672 DUI’s, 19 fatal collisions, 838 robberies, 1087 aggravated assaults and 74 homicides. These incidents expose officers to the unimaginable and have a tremendous emotional toll on the human body. For the first 6 years of my career, I was flying high and nothing could stop me. I had no idea my emotional wounds were not healing.
January 15, 2006, I responded to a rear-end collision where the victim vehicle was on fire. The suspect vehicle had rear-ended the victim’s car at over 70mph. Two female college students were in the burning vehicle. As I got out of my patrol car, I could hear the screams for help and tried to get to the victims. By this time the flames were 30 feet in the air and I was unable to get near the burning car due to the heat. I sustained minor burns on my arms from about 15 feet away. Unable to help the girls burning to death, I turned to the suspect vehicle and witnesses. The three girls in the suspect car were intoxicated and giggling as they talked with each other. I went from thoughts of utter helplessness to fighting back shear rage. I did my job like a professional.
I had dealt with the aftermath of many critical incidents, but this was the first time I lost sleep for weeks on end due to nightmares. The screams for help and visual of the two burnt bodies would wake me. As time went on it happened less frequent and I thought the emotional wound had healed. I was raised to be strong and independent, so figured I was good and could heal myself.
Then came May 1, 2007. I learned from the news that the suspect driver in the fiery crash had pled to manslaughter. Though a positive note, this brought back the nightmares and I was sleeping about 45 minutes of every hour. By Friday May 4, I was exhausted, but never wanted to miss a single moment of the “greatest show on earth” that is police work. 14 year old Kory Laos was out riding his bike around the college campus with friends to celebrate his upcoming birthday on May 6. Kory popped a wheelie on the sidewalk and fell into the roadway where he was struck by a car. I arrived at the scene and followed the ambulance as it transported Kory to the hospital. I watched in the emergency room as Kory passed and was pronounced deceased. My oldest son was 6 years old at the time. I pictured my son as Kory’s lifeless body laid on the stretcher. I had seen numerous dead bodies with some of them being infants, but this was the first time I had an unexplained emotional connection with a victim. Kory could have been my son.
Kory’s family was sequestered in a room where doctors and chaplain were informing them of Kory’s death. Though I was emotional, I pulled myself together so I could talk with the parents, offer my condolences and see if there was anything I could do to help them. When I asked the last, Kory’s aunt yelled at me, “You can bring Kory back to us!” I know her response was out of pure grief, but with the emotional state I was in, it proved to be too much. I was able to make it out to my patrol car, before I broke down emotionally. Crying like a baby, I was confronted by the fire crew that transported Kory to the hospital. The captain offered assistance and I later met with their chaplain. After talking with him and having a few hours pass, I was feeling like myself again.
I went back to the substation and ate my lunch. I then went back on patrol thinking I had recovered not knowing the truth. The next thing I remember was almost being t-boned by a vehicle in the middle of an intersection. I pulled off the road and saw my light had been red. I looked around and had no idea where I was nor remember driving there. I called my supervisor telling him what happened and that I needed help before I hurt myself or someone else.
This was the first time in my life that I felt like I had no control. As an officer control is paramount to any situation you’re in. I had promised my wife I would always make it home safe and knew I needed help to keep it. It would take years for this wound and many others to heal into scars. For me this was the turning point in my career. Every police officer has similar experiences and suffer from emotional wounds. I tell my story for personal healing and the hope it might help others to heal as well. Recently, I had the honor of sharing it with a soon to graduate recruit class as part of a trauma inoculation class. I think it helped me more than them.
With recent police tragedies and the anti-police climate, wounds begin to fester and the stress gets harder to deal with. The anarchist anti-police rhetoric is getting old. No matter how hateful and disrespectful it gets, I took an oath and will hold the line. That is how I was raised.
