Is police work stressful? Part 1.

Police work has changed since about the 1980’s.  I entered the police force in 1987 and began my solo beat after field training in the early part of 1988.

The academy was very stressful, with senior officers screaming in your face, spittle spewing onto you as you tried to maintain some sort of composure.  After they were done yelling at you, you usually had to take a lap around the parking lot or 20 pushups.

Your weapon had to be beyond sparkling clean; your shoes and gun belt spit shined, uniform freshly pressed and clean.  If any of that was not 101%, you endure the discipline.

During one inspection, my classmate, standing next to me was noticeably squirming.  The senior officer inspecting him noticed an ant on his front sight of his displayed weapon and yelled, “Did we tell you it was okay to bring pets to the academy!!”  Discipline was administered and the recruit gladly took his lap so he could get off of the anthill he was standing over.

During our lunch break, which was usually “our” time, the academy lieutenant would come strolling through and help himself to our lunches, obviously without any resistance (the same lieutenant that threw our loaded weapons over the chain link fence where school kids were walking and who also shot up his house while off-duty and then later received a promotion).

My entire time in the academy, I observed everyone’s way of dealing with the “stress”, so not-so-well, and usually they quit.  We would have recruits quit the very first day because they couldn’t handle the stress of enduring an inspection.   We had a 50% washout from the academy and field training, which was deemed acceptable and the standard.  If 50% attrition was not achieved, there was a perceived problem with the program.

I graduated from the academy and within the first year of being on the street, a fellow officer, Marc Kahre, was shot and killed while on duty (lvmpd memorial).  I attended his funeral, and experienced a new type of emotional stress.  I saw what appeared to be the entire police department and other police department members, in dress uniforms, attending and paying their respects to a fellow brother-in-arms.  I observed thousands upon thousands of civilians line the motorcade route with their hands over their hearts as the motorcade passed. I watched as the flag was presented to his family at graveside. I felt the emotions of his family and friends. I then wondered if my family and friends would have to endure this also.

After the funeral, the camaraderie in the department was apparent.  Some attempts of humor veiled the sorrow hidden underneath the badge and uniforms.  Supervisors made sure that the message to “Be Safe” was repeated often and understood.  Officers spent a little extra time with other officers.  Even the citizens made sure that their appreciation was shown by saying a kind word and buying a cup of coffee for an unknown officer sitting nearby.

I then began to think about my choice to become a police officer.  Did I make the right decision?  I also had a family.  I didn’t want to them to suffer as Marc’s family and friends did. 

I had a decision to make.

To be continued…