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Many years ago, before I became gray of hair and short of
step, I was a police officer. This in itself is nothing
grand or glorious, but it was something that I enjoyed, and
something I'm still proud of.
This story is about one particular evening that changed my
whole outlook on my profession and my life. That night is
etched into my brain and is something I still carry as if it
were a bullet lodged in my body.
I was in my twenties when I joined the force. I had a wife
and three young daughters, and as some young men are at that
age, I thought I was pretty much "bullet-proof" and "able to
leap tall buildings in a single bound."
Nothing would bother me no matter what I had to do or what I
saw. This attitude seem to serve me well especially if I was
the first on the scene or the "first in". However, I was
about to find out that there was something I was not
prepared for.
The evening started out pretty much as any other with my
patrol area being fairly quiet. I had handled, what some may
call "routine", traffic stops, but a good officer knows that
there is no call that should be considered "routine". Later
that night a call went out that there was a Motor Vehicle
Accident with Fatality, and as I was about to find out, this
call was going to be far from "routine".
As always, I headed to the scene hoping it wasn't someone I
knew. When a fatality call like this goes out it is usually
accompanied by a Coroner's call. Where upon someone from the
coroners office shows up, does what needs to be done, and
then the victims are transported to the hospital morgue.
When I arrived upon the scene I was told that it was a hit
and run, vehicle vs. pedestrians. During the preliminary
investigation, and according to eye witness accounts, the
pedestrians were trying to cross the highway at an extremely
busy intersection. They had been run down by a large dark
blue automobile that had run a red light and was traveling
at what appeared to be an excessive rate of speed.
Within minutes this was confirmed by another officer
responding to a call about a half a mile down the highway.
The driver of the same dark blue vehicle had run off the
road and hit a sign post. The officer approached the car
only to find the driver relatively unhurt but passed out.
He was drunk
Someone had covered what appeared to be five bodies that
were located some distance apart. The coverings were not to
be removed until the coroner's office arrived. I assisted
the coroner in his assessment of the victims and removed the
sheets so that he could take the needed photographs. The
first sheet I removed revealed the body of a young woman in
her mid to late twenties.
I was totally unprepared for what I observed next. I
removed the next four sheets, and as I did I revealed the
lifeless bodies of two little girls. My heart dropped right
through the bottom of my boots. I tried to fight back the
emotions but it was impossible. My macho charisma instantly
turned into a river of tears as the impact of the scene hit
me like a freight train. As I slowly regained my composure
I could see that I wasn't the only one who had lost it.
Through my stinging eyes I could see there wasn't a dry eye
anywhere. The other officers, the fireman, and even the
coroner -- who I know had seen worse -- all just stood there
in shock and disbelief.
Even though they weren't my little girls, they were about
the same age, and for several nights afterwards I pictured
MY little girls and MY wife under those sheets. This
incident changed my whole perspective about my life, my
family, my career and especially my "Superman" demeanor. I
came to the realization that life is so very fragile, and
each day that we have on this earth is precious beyond
measure. We should cherish the time we can share with the
people we care about the most.
Jay Miller
dem.utah @ worldnet.att.net
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May your day be blessed
Bob Johnston |
