I know every cop has stories. They remember their "firsts." It is kinda hard not to. From the beginning, all the training officers will tell you, along with every cop you go on calls with, "you never forget your first_________."
It is so true. I remember my first drunk I put through FST'S in front of 15 other cops and one motor that should have taken the investigation from me, but chose to watch me stumble all over so I could learn. I will never forget the first child I saw dead on his bed, the first fatal accident I got on scene first for,or the first real fight I got into.
Your entire career you have your firsts and then your lasts and if you are lucky, some of it sticks with you, for good and bad. Simply as a reminder and as lessons to you. I was lucky to take a lot from the job. Things that make me thankful and wishful and hopeful everyday. A lot of things I hold close, but one call that I took, I have always held dear. The family involved have always been in my heart and today, I got some of the greatest news about them.
Flashback......nearly 11 years ago I was working the Scottsdale and Frank Lloyd Wright area on an 11 a.m. to 9 p.m. shift. I can't remember if it was late spring or early fall, but I know I was in my shorts and it was warm out. I got a call for a runaway. Now most of the time, these so called, "runaways," were simply begging for attention because, lets just face it, it is downright difficult to be a North Scottsdale teenager driving a Hummer or Mercedes everyday and getting a $500.00 a week allowance. I would surely runaway too. I never took these calls happily. In simple terms..... these kids pissed me off and I would explain to the parents that if they wanted me to counsel their spoiled brats they would need to sit down, shut-up and let me speak my peace.
I never once had a complaint about how I talked with their kids or what I said. I usually started out with, "so help me and your sorry little ass, if an important call, like a 2 year old drowning comes out and I can't respond because I am here babysitting your sore spoiled brat ass, I will watch for you everyday and make sure I make your life miserable until you reach 18." Sometimes the parents jaws would hit the floor, but once I got into how I worked at the jail and talked about the horrible things I saw or the kids that were struggling to get food let alone designer clothes or cars they usually figured it out. I usually ended my speech with a closing that consisted of something like, "If I have to come back here because you decide your life is so miserable in your 8000 square foot house, with your new lifted Toyota 4x4 in the driveway and your $400.00 sunglasses, I will take you to the Mesa Southeast juvenile detention facility, where you will be strip searched, put into a little cell with a beautiful orange jumpsuit on, plastic sandals and an oh so comfortable metal bed to sleep in. I will make sure that the judge understands how difficult your life is and how important it was for you to tell the police this... over and over again. Then I will gladly recommend that you get stuck volunteering to clean toilets at a homeless shelter for 6 months straight! ARE WE CRYSTAL CLEAR????"
Never once did I have to return to any of these houses after my happy speech. Amazing how some of these kids' eyes opened to the good life they had after big bad mean blonde cop walked through their front door!!!
This specific runaway call I took was different. I knew it the minute I found Anne walking down the street. I offered to drive her back home but she refused and walked the few blocks on her own. I followed. Once we got to her house, I met her mom, Sarah. We started talking about what was going on and what made Anne so upset that she felt the need to runaway. Long story short, life was sad at the time for this family. A suicide... and stuff that did not add up had this little girl sad. I was sad for her and her mom as well so we all started really talking with each other. Not cop to mom and daughter. It was three women talking about life and love and sadness and happiness and good, bad and evil.
Now most cops rarely open up about their personal lives on calls. I was that cop. I never told anyone about my life or things that happened with me until this day. While we were sitting in the living room talking, for whatever reason, we started talking about loss and I opened up to this family about how I had just lost mine and Tommy's first baby and had to keep moving forward no matter how much sadness I felt. I talked about losing my uncle right before I lost the baby and how things that happen, happen for a reason and really, it sometimes just sucks. I sat in this house getting to know these two women for nearly 3 hours. It was the first of two times I had ever cried on a call. It was the first of many times I would come to know this family and in the end, I would call them my friends.
This was the only family I ever gave personal information to and the only family I exchanged Christmas cards with. This family celebrated when I had Jax, when I had Brinkley and grieved with me when I had my motorcycle wreck. They came to the hospital to see me, to pray with me and to just be with me. We hugged each other and cried together. I kept up with Anne and her studies at Saguaro High School and when she moved onto college.
I was shocked when we ran into them at the zoo in December of 2002. That was the year of my motorcycle accident and once I was released from the hospital it was difficult for me to keep in contact. Sarah was in a wheelchair. She was weak from her Multiple Sclerosis and chemotherapy as a result of pancreatic cancer. She was a strong woman that was holding tight to her girls and her family and I was in awe of her. We hugged and I introduced her to my family and we went on our way. Over the next few years we kept in touch with Christmas cards and letters here and there. I retired from the P.D. and we, ultimately moved. I sent out an announcement when Pudgie was born and thought it odd that I never heard back. I didn't get a Christmas card in 2005 and then we moved again.
The next year, my Christmas card was returned to me. I assumed my favorite "Z GIRLS" as they were called, had moved and I did not get a forwarding address. I was so wrong. I knew this in my heart. Something was wrong and I needed to find out what.
With a little cop work, I found out that Sarah had lost her battle with cancer in December of 2005. I was devastated and tried, unsuccessfully, to contact her daughters. I never stopped thinking about the Z girls. Anne had found her way into my heart and never left even though I never talked about her to many people.
Today, I got a card in the mail. I didn't recognize the handwriting and had no idea why I would be getting mail from Chicago. When I turned the envelope over I was shocked to read that the return address was from Anne.
I opened the card and inside was an announcement. Anne is graduating from law school in May and wanted me to know how well she has done over the years. With tears streaming down my face all I could do was smile for this little girl who had been through so much in her life. How proud I know her mom is, looking down on her, knowing what a great job she did in raising Anne. I know her sister is proud. She has been right beside her the entire time.
And, I know how proud I am of her. I think, and at the very least, hope, I touched her life in a way that helped push her in the right direction that day so very long ago. The Lord knows how she touched mine. I must have done something right for her to think of me as she is getting ready to graduate law school and move ahead into this new beginning of her life.
So, on her big day, I plan to watch this young woman graduate from The John Marshall Law School, because, I now know, I did my job that day, so very long ago.
Today, I woke him out of a dead sleep to give him his. Somehow, I think some people will think one did better than the other, but I am head over heels in love with my bath soap and my $55.00 in coupons... SERIOUSLY!! 
Happy Anniversary week sweets! 
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