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The things you don't learn in the academy.

1. divorce rates is 60-70% higher than the National average.
2. suicide rates are 3 times the National average.
3. alcoholism rates are 2 times the National average.
4. domestic violence are the highest than the National average.
5. highest risk of developing heart disease.
6. highest sleep disorders.
7. highest risk of exposure to critical incidents.

Your an butt hole if you write a ticket, and your the best friend when someone needs help.

You got to make a decision within a few seconds, like no other profession.

Then there is the fear of being killed or killing someone.

Then there is the grind of dealing with other people's problems.

Then there the scheduling of work and irregular work demands, resulting in disruption of family time.

Then there comes the low pay scale that most of then do for it.

And last of all after retirement, if your lucky you might live 5 years.

Most of the ones I have talked to say, man what a life, but someone's got to do it.

God bless our men and women in blue.
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Thank you for posting this Blues -- it takes a special person too be a police officer. They are a breed apart from the rest of the world -- along with fire fighters and rescue workers...they run into the trouble while the rest of us run away from it...whether you like them all the time or not -- they make the choice every day to do their job and for that choice they deserve respect...
quote:
Originally posted by blue's:
The things you don't learn in the academy.

1. divorce rates is 60-70% higher than the National average. My ex notified me while I was on duty that she was leaving.
2. suicide rates are 3 times the National average. My FTO attempted this route. Thankfully he didn't succeed.
3. alcoholism rates are 2 times the National average. This spelled the end for one of my former SGTs.
4. domestic violence are the highest than the National average. This cost one of my former SGTs his badge.
5. highest risk of developing heart disease. Trust me...it isn't the donuts.
6. highest sleep disorders. Rotating shifts suck.
7. highest risk of exposure to critical incidents. I went into situations no sane individual would dream of...for $7.54/HR.

You're a butt hole if you write a ticket, and you're the best friend when someone needs help. The friend part isn't easy to come by.

You got to make a decision within a few seconds, like no other profession. Make that MILLI-seconds.

Then there is the fear of being killed or killing someone. The fear of being killed isn't as strong as the fear of leaving your family behind should that happen. BTW, my great-grandfather was killed in the line of duty in Sheffield in 1938.

Then there is the grind of dealing with other people's problems. Now I know what Dr. Phil feels like.

Then there the scheduling of work and irregular work demands, resulting in disruption of family time. This is especially hard around the Holidays.

Then there comes the low pay scale that most of then do for it. I was being paid $7.54/HR when I quit in 2004.

And last of all, after retirement, if you're lucky you might live 5 years. Some former LEOs can't adjust to 'normal' lives and unfortunately commit suicide.

Most of the ones I have talked to say, man what a life, but someone's got to do it.

God bless our men and women in blue.
Last edited by dogsoldier0513
Most Law Enforcement Officers see more, experience more and do more in one life time, than most civilians will experience in 3 life times.The profession has the tendency to take more from the individual who carries the badge than should be expected of anyone. The burn out rate becomes a factor as the years start to pile up. Younger officers are not able until years later to understand the harden demeanor of seasoned and battle scarred officers.

The Profession while one of the most rewarding in many ways is at the same time due to the nature of seeing the worse acts of human behavior tends to be a depletor of compassion and drainer of faith in our fellow man.It does not happen over night but instead it takes a small tiny piece,one nibble at a time until one day the officer realizes he does not have the same compassion toward his fellow man as he did when he first put the badge on.

The officer comes realize that he lives in a sub culture world of vice,drugs,thieves,confidential informats,domestic violence,sucides,murders,fatalities,child abuse,animal abuse,and court days which just happen to occur on the day the officer is off and was going to take his family on a outing.

The Officer learns to look at tags, types of cars and then the drivers to see if they match. Look at the dress, transportation, demeanor of someone in a neighborhood to see if they appear to fit the typical residents of that area. They do this so much, that is becomes second nature on and off duty. You learn to face the door of any public place you eat with your back against the wall. It becomes habit to scan the faces,location of hands,bulges in pockets, anything that looks out of ordinary. You do this on duty, or off duty when shopping,or eating out with your family or friends.

The officer learns to listen to what people say, but they never trust what they say until it can be verified. They learn to bury their emotions, not realizing that each time they keep them internally, they surface in many different other ways which affect not only their personal life but the ones they love the most.

Years ago a study was done regarding personalities and it was found, Soldiers,Fireman,Emergency Medical Personel, Emergency Room Doctors and Nurses all have the same personality traits.

Maybe this is why the results of studies done on this type of personality as listed in blues initial post has developed over the years of seeing what they see. Even thou the officers know what is in store for them toward the latter part of the life, most would not change for all the money in the world. They do it not for money but there is something that is unique for the men and women who willingly stand between the citizens and chaos..ask them what it is and they will not be able to describe it to you.
Hi all,

On the lighter side, in the late 1960s I had a friend who was on the LAPD. On skid row in downtown Los Angeles a rash of attacks and killings were happening to the homeless. My friend went undercover, hung around skid row, sleeping in the alley for three nights.

On the third night, an old regular of skid row came up to where he was sleeping, kicked his foot, and asked, "Mr. Policeman, how long you going to stay down here with us?"

Even though he made himself look like a skid row bum; he did not fool them.

In 1958, I passed all the written and physical tests to join the LAPD -- but was offered a job in computers and took that instead. I will admit that I have often wondered what life would have been like if I had taken the other path and become an officer in the LAPD.

Yes, I have great respect for our policemen, firemen, emergency workers, and military. They deserve a lot more than we give them -- financially and otherwise.

God bless, have a wonderful, blessed day,

Bill

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[quote]By Bill Gray: In 1958, I passed all the written and physical tests to join the LAPD -- but was offered a job in computers and took that instead. I will admit that I have often wondered what life would have been like if I had taken the other path and become an officer in the LAPD.[/quote]

You were offered a job in computers in 1958??
Dang, that's the year the first IC was developed.

Honestly, Bill, I can see where you could have been a cop from what I've seen of your personality - but, I sure wouldn't want to be pulled over by you, lol...I don't think there would ever be any talking you out of writing a ticket!! Plus I bet you'd give a lecture. Roll Eyes
Sadly, one of the greatest failings among today's law enforcement circles is the almost total lack of 'decompression services' for officers...especially for those that have seen and/or survived traumatic incidents.

Most officers attempt to deal with the aftermath of violent encounters and other traumatic events on their own....usually out of necessity....occasionaly out of choice. Both are lose/lose situations. THIS is where most of the stress associated with 'the job' arrives from. In departments where such 'decompression services' ARE offered, most officers 'opt out', believing that they can 'suck it up and tough it out'. Egos usually win out and the officer's family and department lose.

Most families/friends either don't want to hear about 'the stuff' that happens on a shift, or the officer chooses to 'spare them' from it. I mean, how do you discuss a skydiving accident, suicide or horrible automobile accident in which a whole family is killed and their body parts are strown all over the highway over dinner?
Your not a cop until you taste them.

The department was all astir, there was a lot of laughing and joking due to all the new officers, myself included, hitting the streets today for the first time. After months of seemingly endless amounts of classes, paperwork, and lectures we were finally done with the Police Academy and ready to join the ranks of our department.

All you could see were rows of cadets with huge smiles and polished badges. As we sat in the briefing room, we could barely sit still anxiously awaiting our turn to be introduced and given our beat assignment or, for the lay person, our own portion of the city to "serve and protect."

It was then that he walked in. A statue of a man - 6 foot 3 and 230 pounds of solid muscle, he had black hair with highlights of gray and steely eyes that make you feel nervous even when he wasn't looking at you. He had a
reputation for being the biggest and the smartest officer to ever work our fair city. He had been on the department for longer than anyone could remember and those years of service had made him into somewhat of a legend.

The new guys, or "rookies" as he called us, both respected and feared him. When he spoke even, the most seasoned officers paid attention. It was almost a priviledge when one the rookies got to be around when he would tell one of his police stories about the old days. But we knew our place and never interrupted for fear of being shooed away. He was respected and revered by all who knew him.

After my first year on the department I still had never heard or saw him speak to any of the rookies for any length of time. When he did speak to them all he would say was, "So, you want to be a policeman do you hero?"
I'll tell you what, when you can tell me what they taste like,
then you can call yourself a real policeman."

This particular phrase I had heard dozens of times. Me and my buddies all had bets about "what they taste like" actually referred to. Some believed it referred to the taste of your own blood after a hard fight. Others thought it referred to the taste of sweat after a long day's work. Being on the
department for a year, I thought I knew just about everyone and everything.

So one afternoon, I mustered up the courage and walked up to him. When he looked down at me, I said "You know, I think I've paid my dues. I've been in plenty of fights, made dozens of arrests, and sweated my butt off just like everyone else. So what does that little saying of yours mean anyway?" With that, he merely stated, "Well, seeing as how you've said and done it all, you tell me what it means, hero." When I had no answer, he shook his head and snickered, "rookies," and walked away.

The next evening was to be the worst one to date. The night started out slow, but as the evening wore on, the calls became more frequent and dangerous. I made several small arrests and then had a real knock down drag out fight. However, I was able to make the arrest without hurting the suspect or myself. After that, I was looking forward to just letting the shift wind down and getting home to my wife and daughter.

I had just glanced at my watch and it was 11:55, five more minutes and I would be on my way to the house. I don't know if it was fatigue or just my imagination, but as I drove down one of the streets on my beat, I thought I saw my daughter standing on someone else's porch. I looked again but it was not my daughter as I had first thought but merely a small child about her age. She was probably only six or seven years old and dressed in an oversized shirt that hung to her feet. She was clutching an old rag doll in her arms that looked older than me.

I immediately stopped my patrol car to see what she was doing outside her house at such an hour by herself. When I approached, there seemed to be a sigh of relief on her face. I had to laugh to myself, thinking she sees the hero policeman come to save the day. I knelt at her side and asked what she was doing outside.

She said "My mommy and daddy just had a really big fight and now mommy won't wake up." My mind was reeling. Now what do I do? I instantly called for backup and ran to the nearest window. As I looked inside I saw a man standing over a lady with his hands covered in blood, her blood. I kicked
open the door, pushed the man aside and checked for a pulse, but unable to find one. I immediately cuffed the man and began doing CPR on the lady.

It was then I heard a small voice from behind me, "Mr. Policeman, please make my mommy wake up." I continued to perform CPR until my backup and medics arrived but they said it was too late. She was dead.
I then looked at the man. He said, "I don't know what happened. She was yelling at me to stop drinking and go get a job and I had just had enough. I just shoved her so she would leave me alone and she fell and hit her head."
As I walked the man out to the car in handcuffs, I again saw that little girl. In the five minutes that has passed, I went from hero to monster. Not only was I unable to wake up her mommy, but now I was taking daddy away too.

Before I left the scene, I thought I would talk to the little girl. To say what, I don't know. Maybe just to tell her I was sorry about her mommy and daddy. But as I approached, she turned away and I knew it was useless and I would probably make it worse.

As I sat in the locker room at the station, I kept replaying the whole thing in my mind. Maybe if I would have been faster or done something different, just maybe that little girl would still have her mother. And even though it may sound selfish, I would still be the hero.

It was then that I felt a large hand on my shoulder. I heard that all too familiar question again, "Well, hero, what do they taste like?"

But before I could get mad or shout some sarcastic remark, I realized that all the pent up emotions had flooded the surface and there was a steady stream of tears cascading down my face. It was at that moment that I realized what the answer to his question was.

Tears.

With that, he began to walk away, but he stopped. "You know, there was
nothing you could have done differently," he said. "Sometimes you can do
everything right and still the outcome is the same. You may not be the
hero you once thought you were, but now you ARE a police officer."
I responded to my first case of domestic violence when I was a Reserve Deputy in Florida. Around 0230HRS one morning, myself and another officer responded to a reported DV and found a little girl outside the house, sitting on the porch steps, crying her eyes out. When she looked up at me, the first thing I saw was a sense of relief....immediately followed by embarrassment. She was a student in one of my classes and I now knew of the 'dirty little secret' she had been living with.

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