In the fall of 2018, I was well into my training for Iron Man North Carolina. The race was Scheduled for the following fall, and I was diligently keeping up with my training regimen. Hurricane Michael had just blasted through North Florida and I was retiring from law enforcement. There was a lot going on.

On one of my days off I was doing a workout called a “brick”. The workout consists of a moderate distance ride followed by a run. I recall finishing the ride with a headache which was unusual for me. I never got headaches. I went through the mental checklist…had I fouled up my hydration? My nutrition? I took my salt/potassium right at the hour mark…I wasn’t sure what the issue was. I ditched the bike at the house, changed shoes and was off on what passed as a run for me at that age. I made it about thirty of the 45 minutes and had to stop. My head was pounding. I knuckled under and walked the rest of the way home wondering what was wrong. Was I sick? In fact, what I later came to know is that this was the first time the train wreck in my neck manifested its self and fouled up my life. I have had a headache of varying severity every day since that brick.

Along the way to finding out what was causing the problem, my headaches became debilitating. Triathlon was certainly not an option. When the headaches were really bad, sitting in my truck crying or lying bed was about the only option. Chronic pain is a real fucking bitch. Over the counter medication and numerous medical procedures and doctor’s visits here locally had zero effect. The pain grew worse. About that time, three things happened; I came to the realization (in spite of various doctors very upbeat rhetoric) that my athletic life had changed forever, I began distracting myself by birdwatching/studies in combination with photography and I found some doctors who began to find ways to reduce my pain levels (no narcotics).

None of this was a journey that I expected. I did not expect chronic pain. I have come to describe it best as a “sprained ankle in my neck all the time that gives me a headache”. I did not expect that focusing on birdwatching in combination with photography would distract me (somewhat) from misery. I did not expect that I would ever quit triathlon. I did not expect that anything would take me away from passionate pursuits such as woodworking, but when the “pain penalty” became too much my shop became idle. I did not expect after years of poking, prodding, trials and errors that anyone would have any measure of success in helping me, but they have. All of it has been a journey and will, no doubt continue to be.

This condition has tested my resilience in unpredictable ways. Many of my “go to” stress management regimes were rendered useless at one point or another by my “sprained ankle neck”. Aggressive exercise? Nope. Woodworking? Nope. Many forms of socialization? Nope (very difficult to socialize when you feel like that). Going to baseball games? Nope. I felt worse after I left than before I got there. It is also very difficult with chronic pain and no external injury. When others can’t see the thing that plagues you, they often forget that you feel rotten or how rotten you really feel. Thereby doubling the difficulty socially. So, what does one do when your resilience is tested? Well, I don’t know about other people, I had my fair share of awful days (still do), but I was forced to recalibrate and come up with new things to be in my “go to” bag of tricks.

Priority one was getting help for the unrelenting and increasing pain. I left town for that because of a referral that my wonderful GP (forever grateful) made when I was in to visit her one day in one of my lowest of lows. I am intentionally omitting names here, but if anyone reading this is having similar issues, contact me and I’ll tell you who I went to see. As soon as the specialists figured out what was wrong, they began treating it and the pain began to subside slowly to a manageable level. It was also very important to me to have a definitive and uncompromising answer about what was causing my issues. Nebulous answers from well meaning medical professionals that included statements like “this shouldn’t be causing your headaches” did little to comfort me. In fact, they increased my anxiety substantially in combination with the increasing pain and other factors.

Secondary priorities were to fill in the gaps left by triathlon, strenuous exercise and my inability to do any woodworking and other things I enjoyed. I LOVE competition. It doesn’t matter if it’s racing my friend down a single track trail on a mountain bike or an Iron Man race. The wind in my face, the strain on my muscles, the shit talk, the exhilaration in the back stretch and win or lose (mostly lose for me) knowing that I gave it my best. I am very very glad that I raced when I had the chance. I’m glad that when my friends called on chilly mornings that were below my temperature threshold, I said “yes” to crashing through the woods on my mountain bike with them. Because, in all likelihood, those are now just fond memories. So, I began walking and hiking when I could. I sat and watched the birds and learned about them. I figured that If I was going to birdwatch, I was going to challenge myself by photographing the birds and making those photos as artful as I could before I checked another bird off my “life list”. We camp and explore and I continue to scan and look for other opportunities to recreate and practice resilience.

I encourage all who are reading this to pursue your dreams. Climb high mountains. Shoot the rapids. Wander the wilderness. While you do, develop multiple resilience strategies. There just may come a day when life surprises you and you can’t climb high mountains, shoot rapids, or wander the wilderness. So, do it while you can and live with no regrets. I was certainly surprised. I may have been surprised but because of the combination of parents who have continued their journeys with adaptive strategies (thereby setting great examples for all), diverse resilience practices and some really excellent medical professionals in my life, I’m moving forward. Iron Man might not be a reality for me any longer, but maybe I can encourage you. Hiking, photography, woodworking, camping and the North American outdoors await me.

It is my sincerest hope that those who read this will process this blog in the manner that I intended. I don’t feel sorry for myself, and therefore neither should you feel sorry for me. Rather, after reading this, my hope is that you are encouraged to broaden your resilience strategies so that you might not be surprised as I was if you are pitched a life curve ball. My hope is that you take life by the reins, apply some spurs and ride with the wind while you have that opportunity and desire.

The photographs in this blog are shot by me with, the exception of course of the two Iron Man North Carolina 2019 pictures (FinisherPix). Double clicking on the images will allow you to see them full size and/or scroll through the gallery.

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In the first responder and military world much importance is rightfully placed on toughness, grit, strength and endurance. Without these things, our community stands little chance when we come upon the darkness that lurks just outside our civilized fences. What about during all the time that passes when we aren’t confronting the darkness? How are we conducting ourselves during that time? I would submit to you that in the law enforcement world, the one with which I am most familiar, and one that is quit closely knit…we eat each other alive for sport.

There are elements of the professions who worry that kindness may be interpreted as weakness by darkness and its allies. Some of those same folks may say that writing something like this signifies that I’m getting old and soft. I’ll concede that. I’ll also concede that those same people might think Christ himself weak and call him out as such. In other words, I largely discount what they have to say and as long as we don’t compromise our safety standards and tactics, I really couldn’t care less what the critics have to say.

With that out of the way, let lay out a few reasons for people in our professions (or anyone for that matter) not to forget to extend the hand of kindness whenever possible. There are practical reasons, life altering reasons and the deep meaning of the acts of kindness for you and the people whom you touch.

The practical reasons are frankly going to be most compelling for some of my younger readers and they are also the very reasons that eluded the younger me. I was, however not a cruel person, but just so focused on safety and tactics in combination with arriving in the profession during a time when people just didn’t talk about this kind of thing that this stuff never occurred to me. But, the fact is that kindness and respect in the law enforcement world can avoid force applications. There are three types of people who law enforcement officers deal with. This is a universal truth…yes people, maybe people and no people. NO people will not do what you want or need them to no matter what. Yes people will under all circumstances because you simply ask. Maybe people however…they have to be convinced. They will often resist. But with kindness and respect, this can be avoided. Which means so can unpleasantness, skinned knees, sprained ankles and so on. As well as the crowds, videos and potential complaints. I spent a fair portion of my career working narcotics and dealing with informants as well as teaching others to utilize informants. Guess what? Cultivating informants works better if law enforcement treats the potential informant with kindness and respect rather than the reverse. Even if they aren’t going to be an informant, but you just want information (post Miranda or otherwise) being an asshole is a certain way to make sure that no one talks to you. Like, ever.

Practical matters can have direct bearing on your career too. Extending the hand of kindness often requires little of us at the time and means a great deal to the person whom you extended the hand to. As a result, It will likely be remembered by them long after you have forgotten the incident. I experienced something on the giving side very early in my career. When I finished the academy, my graduating class that was hired by my agency was joined by a pre-certified officer from another agency. This officer came with experience and joined us during our “In House” training. A major milestone for us was firearms qualification as it meant that we would be able to finally come to work in uniform. After we all qualified, we headed back to the police station and upon arriving, learned that our pre-cert. classmate had failed to qualify and therefore could not carry their revolver (yes that’s what we carried back then). I suggested that If one of us couldn’t then the whole class shouldn’t until our classmate got remediated and qualified (which happened a short time later). Everyone agreed and I promptly forgot about it. That is…until twenty something years later when I was working for this person and they reminded me of the incident and how much it had meant to them.

As the previous example may have shown to a small degree, extending your hand of kindness can be memorable and even life changing for those to whom you extend it. You may also find yourself looking across the desk of your boss hearing about how you treated them years ago. It certainly was good to hear that they recalled that story instead of one of the many times I struggled. It’s true and I’ve learned it many times over, we never really know what is going on in other people’s lives. Consequently, a small act of kindness may not only be remembered for a whole career, but be life changing.

Before I retired, I had a young officer on my shift on patrol who was…well, struggling. He had rotten luck and was terribly nervous. Doubly so about coming to my shift. Many things had not gone well for him, but I was confident he was going to be fine and counseled him to that effect. One day he was dispatched to a crash which I rolled up on before he arrived. I began to gather information and get things going when he arrived a short time later. He parked and met with me and as I was telling him what I had discovered so far, I looked up and said “HOLY SHIT!” because his patrol car was literally driving its self away from the scene. He had not gotten it all the way into park. To our horror, the car cruised along the road a while, left the road and thankfully was apprehended by a large stand of kudzu with zero damage. He was beside himself and thought it was going to be his last day. I calmed him down, laughed with him a little, called his sergeant and got him back working on the crash. No damage…no crash…no discipline…no big deal. Years later after attending an FTO school, he wrote his major (a former trainee of mine) an email outlining the incident and what an impact it had on him and his career because of the way I handled it. She forwarded the email to me. I (again) had long since forgotten the incident (minor to me) but I was moved to see where it took him. He will be a great FTO.

As a very senior, very tired police lieutenant, I was on my way home from work one day and nearly there when I rolled up on a nasty crash that had occurred seconds before my arrival. The not-at-fault-vehicle was overturned in the roadway in my path and some good hearted do gooders were attempted to drag the occupant out of the vehicle through broken glass. Shoeing them away and stabilizing her neck, I called for the appropriate resources, checked her out and told her she was going to be ok. I held her hand as she was terrified, told her I would call her husband and took down his number. When fire and EMS arrived, I helped put on the C collar, crawled out and told the police officer who pulled up what happened. I then called her husband, filled him in and went home. Just another day. Just another incident that faded into the thousands of others over a career. Except it wasn’t. When I retired a couple of years later, the couple found out about it and came to my retirement. They were so moved that the husband spoke at my retirement. What was just another day to me, had a profound impact on two other human beings. We can never know what is happening with anyone else or how impactful our kindness and respect will be.

Finally, kindness (altruism) has direct health and wellness benefits for us. Studies have repeatedly shown that treating others in this fashion and being kind to our fellow human beings lowers blood pressure, releases endorphins, tends to extend life expectancy, makes you feel more grateful for what you have and can distract you from your own problems. These are of course broad summaries of in depth studies but, nonetheless, point out that on top of the practical reasons to be kind, the life changing implications of kindness that there are real, compelling, health related reasons to extend a hand to your fellow man.

Our world has gone mad. Not a day goes by when my mailbox isn’t filled with hate filled political fliers. The TV is loaded with fear inducing programming and advertising. Everyone is screaming at everyone. People have simply forgotten that we all have more in common with each other than we do things that separate us. We may all have also forgotten the power in kindness. Be the eye of the storm. Extend a hand when you don’t need to. Give freely. Be the change we all need. Mindfully seek opportunities to do these things.

Consider Luke 6:35

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On the heels of two enormous hurricanes, and with hopes of being deployed into the wake of the second one to provide peer support for the first responders, guard units and others working hard to restore some sense of normality to our storm battered world, a brief retreat to the mountains to visit family was in order. Self care is a vital part of all of our wellness repertoires and family is more important than nearly anything else. That said, illness cancelled a previous trip, storms, and scheduling made it difficult at best, so when the opportunity arose, we didn’t think twice.

The Chattanooga area offers nearly endless opportunities for recreation. I have a particular fondness for the mountains. The wildness of the rock rising to the sky and the ability to lose myself in nature where the harder I work, the fewer folk I see and those I do see are likely quiet, like minded people there for the same reason: loosing themselves in the beauty of the woods one step at a time and regaining sanity while they are doing so.

For the creative and adventurous, the Chattanooga area has so much more to offer than the stunning beauty of the woodlands of the mountains. My son is the consummate tour guide. As a result, I got a cargo bike view of the city and we went train watching (hoping to catch a steam train that was not apparently running). I saw some amazing architecture, splendid sights and rode to the top of Lookout Mountain on a somewhat nail biting cable pulled rail car with the best possible company.

A walk downtown provided some dazzling views, interesting local architecture and amazing parks. During our wanderings, I soaked in the atmosphere, time with family washed the stress of the storms away. We ate locally at the suggestion of my son and daughter in law and wandered aimlessly…it was delightful.

No matter what is going on in your life, take time for self-care and family. The regrets from failing to do so can be enormous (for both). We all lead busy lives that speed by increasingly fast with time. Some sort of mathematical equation with which I only truly became acquainted with after the age of 50 and for which there is no remedy apparently. Take care of yourselves and see your families while you have the chance to the life to the fullest and without regrets.

Each photograph above can be enlarged for better and complete viewing by clicking on it. This should allow the reader/viewer to scroll through each gallery.

We finished our adventure at a wonderful veteran owned Harvest Host campground called Bama Bison. Check them out at https://bamabison.com.

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As Hurricane Helene slowly formed, the entire Gulf Coast held its breath. Forecasts were dire. The better organized it got, the more it looked as though it would make landfall as a major storm (category 4 or 5), come straight into Apalachacola Bay, through Saint Marks and run over Tallahassee. Emergency managers, first responder organizations and NGOs began frantic preparations for what scientists were certain was going to be a once in a lifetime storm incident. Literally at the last moment and by an estimated mere ten miles the beast came ashore as a category 4 just south and east enough of Tallahassee so as not to destroy the capital (and my home).

But where it came ashore, it did so like a a depot of runaway trains full of bombs. It swept in with winds exceeding 100 miles per hour, torrential rains and proceeded go off the rails on a six state rampage over the next 36 hours. Screeching winds, pouring rain and floodwaters ravaged Florida, Georgia, South Carolina, North Carolina Tennessee, and parts of Alabama. As of this writing there are well over 200 confirmed dead, and I expect that toll to rise as teams sift through mud, debris and vast expanses of wrecked rural areas.

Now…another “once in a lifetime” storm looms large in the Gulf certain to strike Florida at least.

So what’s the point of this blog? Rehashing well told history? No. Helene wrecked some 600 miles of the United States. Let that sink in for a minute. Damage ranging from minor to not recoverable for months to maybe ever. In each of those areas, first responders deploy immediately. I mean during the storm immediately. Rescuing people too ignorant to evacuate or unable for health or financial reasons to do so. Guard units are with them. Closely followed by swarms of utilities crews, specialized rescue teams, FEMA, NGOs, first responders from outside jurisdictions there on mutual aid, civilians wanting to help, and so on. Many of them will work with no days off and 12 hour shifts and see/experience things that will damage them for the rest of their life. They will be separated from their families for long periods, work under crushingly difficult conditions, deal with mind bending trauma, pull bodies from the muck and debris and do it again the next day. These stories don’t end up on CNN. They aren’t told on Netflix miniseries. Why? Because it is ugly, painful, extremely difficult and frankly because many people just don’t know about it.

With a storm the size of Helene that wreaked havoc in the way that it did, there will be hundreds…who knows maybe thousands of unseen injuries to the dedicated people who came to help. I know that here locally teams of specialists (peer support etc.) have been sent to disaster areas to support the teams who are working. It is my fervent hope that is happening all across the southeast so that these unseen injuries do not also become forgotten injuries. Please keep the scores of people trying to right our ship from Helene in your thoughts and prayers. They are going to need it since Helene apparently has a very angry juvenile delinquent younger brother named Milton.

Last month was Suicide Prevention and Awareness month. if you or someone else you know needs help, don’t hesitate to ask for it.

Suicide Help Line-988

2nd Alarm Project- https://2ndalarmproject.org

Note-I used stock images for this blog. I am not a member of the press and therefore possess no credentials to go traipsing into disaster areas and jamming a camera into people’s faces who have lost everything or photographing what’s left of their dreams, life and world. Even if I had credentials I would likely not do that as I find it distasteful. Those images are plentiful on the mainstream news.

Before I get going on this blog, let me acknowledge a universal truth amongst first responders and veterans who retire; all of them have unique experiences. Each individual experienced their career in a unique and profound way that is their story and their history. But, that said, we are all bound together by common experiences, common goals and a brotherhood/sisterhood that can bind us together for a lifetime. Additionally, retirement is a fantasy portion of our lives that most people look forward to, dream about, and few adequately prepare for and plan for.

One day you are a part of a team (however small or large) and something bigger than yourself. You work with others daily toward common goals and celebrate goals achieved together. The next, you are on your own. No team. No larger goals. No bigger group and no shared celebrations and no support. This also means that whatever demons or emotional burdens the first responder or veteran has been shouldering successfully with the help of comrades, immersion in work, the comfort of routine and so on…is abruptly torn away. Even if the new retiree has managed to navigate a career without picking up a large number of demons or emotional burdens (I would submit that this is a rare occurrence) the abrupt departure from the tight knit brotherhoods/sisterhoods is difficult and best and life altering at worst. Those reading this fall into two groups; retired and not yet retired. The not yet retired likely view all this with great suspicion and or apathy. The retired may be nodding and confirming what they are reading as they read. If you question the premise posed above, see if you can find the answer for why so many clubs and organizations exist for retirees, for first responders, and for veterans. Why are so many instantly drawn back to work in the field they just left or a related field? There are likely a few good answers to that question, but the most compelling will fall into line with Occam’s razor; they simply miss the brotherhood/sisterhood too much to go cold turkey.

I too miss that brotherhood. I miss it a great deal as any even casual reader of this blog is likely to have discerned. I stay in touch, work around the profession and passionately advocate for it. So what I am about to say comes from a place of experience, education, and reflection. While the shock to our systems from leaving the team is real and profound, the deeper problem may be finding your peace.

Serving as a first responder or in the military for a full career in any front line capacity is likely to cause wear and tear even if we don’t see it. Much akin to the used car on the corner lot that looks pretty good as you walk by, but has an unusually low price and a small sign on the windshield that reads: “very high milage”. These retirees can feel close to, or absolutely worn out. Hence, one of the reasons why wellness practitioners teach resilience now. Aside from improving our ability to respond to individual incidents, resilience techniques improve our overall outlook and may be able to remove that “very high milage” sign from our windshield. Even so, we still all need to find our peace.

By now some of you are wondering what I mean by “find your peace”. I mean simply beginning today, mindfully move forward finding healthy pursuits in your life that bring you peace. Hike into the woods and rest amongst the trees for a while. Put up bird feeders and watch the birds come and go. Learn photography. Find a new hobby. In the area where I live, we have a Senior Center (admittedly suffering from poor name choice) that offers a wide array of opportunities to learn new things while connecting with other people (an incredibly important thing for aging adults). Volunteer somewhere. Each time you mindfully try a new hobby, volunteer etc. you’ll make connections, build bonds and eventually find the healthy pursuits that bring you peace. A word of caution about some of these pursuits…if your pursuits are your children, that’s fantastic! But, kids grow up and leave. Then what? If your pursuit is travel, and for some reason you become unable to travel, then what? My point is simply to diversify and make certain that you find a way to take care of you and diversify so that self care does not discontinue in the case of the unexpected.

When you find those things that bring you peace, immerse yourself in them. When you do so, magic happens and demons and emotional baggage that hang on persistently will slowly, silently drift away as you mindfully immerse yourself in your pursuit.

When you find the things that bring you peace, embrace them and if you can share your gift with others. Maybe just maybe, you can help someone else who is struggling find their peace too. You deserve a healthy, peaceful retirement and so do others who have sacrificed greatly.

Footnote: The images above represent some of the things that are my peace. Hiking, photography, triathlon (hoping I can get back to it), woodworking, camping, friends, FSU Baseball, birding and working at the CDA. Double clicking on the images should allow the reader to see them at full size.

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Theodore Roosevelt is credited with having said “It is not the critic who counts; not the man who points out how the strong man stumbles, or where the doer of deeds could have done them better. The credit belongs to the man who is actually in the arena, whose face is marred by dust and sweat and blood; who strives valiantly; who errs, who comes short again and again, because there is no effort without error and shortcoming; but who does actually strive to do the deeds; who knows great enthusiasms, the great devotions; who spends himself in a worthy cause; who at the best knows in the end the triumph of high achievement, and who at the worst, if he fails, at least fails while daring greatly, so that his place shall never be with those cold and timid souls who neither know victory nor defeat.” I can think of no combination of words that better sums up TAC Tryouts. All over our great nation, year after year no matter what is going on in the world or nation, SWAT teams hold tryouts. They hold tryouts so that a very select few of the smartest, best decision makers, strongest, fastest, and best qualified with firearms have a chance to serve their communities. Of those who try out, not all will pass the physical and firearms assessments. Fewer still will pass the oral panel interview and few still have the honor to be selected to serve on the team. But, one thing they all have in common is that they did not cower in the shadows of giants afraid to take the greatest leap, to take the great chance of…failing. No. They took the first steps toward fulfilling Isiah 6:8…”Send Me”.

My entire career I heard haters, whispers from the shadows, and passive aggressive command personnel who outranked me pulling shit that made life difficult for me and other team members. Who were they? People who had never tried out…never had the opportunity to serve on the team and therefore never truly understood what the team was, what it meant to the members, the organization and to the community. These officers are willing to work harder, train harder, be held to higher standard than the higher standard law enforcement is already held to, and at a moments notice drop everything and leave friends, family and loved ones in the middle of the night, in the cold of winter and even on Christmas to uphold the highest standard of all; THE PRESERVATION OF LIFE.

These candidates came together on tryout day to sweat, bleed and maybe even cry a little all for a chance to move on to the next level. If selected, they will serve quietly as a collateral duty. Meaning that their TAC assignment, their dedication is in addition to whatever their primary assignment is. Make no mistake, my passion for the team should be viewed as as diminishing the efforts of the dedicated men and women in uniform who serve selflessly every day service of their community. I am just especially passionate about the team.

It took me three tryouts to make the team. I regret none of them. I was chosen when I was ready, and I am forever grateful for the opportunity to have been able to have served with some of the finest men and women my agency has ever produced. It is possible that a fair number of these candidates will not be selected after this tryout. So be it. No matter…they should all hold their heads high and be proud that they are not among the cold and timid souls. As I stood by and watched and took these pictures, I was overcome with pride for this team and these candidates. Our community has no idea how lucky they are.

This photo dedicated to my former teammate Sgt. Daniel Dale Green #255. https://www.odmp.org/officer/16454-sergeant-daniel-dale-green

See also: https://black-water-images.com written by my former teammate.

Sooner or later the adventure comes to an end. Then we have memories and a lot of stories to tell. Veterans and first responders experience the same thing. One chapter closes and another opens. Our career of service ends and we begin retirement in some form or fashion. Some of us move to another full time job, some a part time job, some volunteer, some travel, some pursue hobbies and some find themselves quite lost. But no matter what, all travel the retirement road with all its twists, turns and scenic pullouts. If this is something that we all experience then why are so few of us prepared for retirement?

Consider this conversation that I recently had with a first responder days from retirement; Me: “What are you going to do when you retire?” Them: “Sit on the couch.”. In order to prepare for the first part of my journey, I worked, worked in a related field, went to college, interned at a law enforcement agency and spent untold hours gathering information (researching, ride alongs, conversations etc.) that would guide my decisions about what I was going to do and for whom I was going to work. As I approached retirement, I approached it differently. I somehow believed that this new chapter would write itself and that I did not need to plan, prepare and educate myself. While I concede that this retirement chapter does not require the same level of preparation as the previous chapter, it most certainly did require planning and preparation.

What I learned from my journey and those willing to share their journeys with me is that planning for retirement is no different than any plan we conceived of during our careers. There is a famous quote “No plan survives first contact with the enemy” that is attributed to a 19th century Prussian Field Marshall. It seems quite fitting for retirement too. Have a plan going into retirement. It will lead to another plan, and another and, quite possible another. All the while, you will travel this interesting road with many of your friends and coworkers and share new adventures with them. Each plan leads to opportunities, connections and relationships.

I miss policing. I the unprecedented opportunities that it gave me to help those in need, see to the needs of victims, and catch and prepare for prosecution those who had victimized them. I especially miss the tactical team that I was blessed to have been a part of, the Special Investigations Section and all the wonderful, talented people that made it special, and the last Patrol shift I worked with. Some days, I miss them so badly that it’s hard to actually define, but I cannot linger in that last chapter. The pages turn and I have found it best to lean into retirement with effort, vigor and my eyes forward.

All that said, I also love my part time job and the adventures it has taken me on. I have learned so much, met wonderful new people, made new friends, faced new challenges and, no doubt, become a better version of myself. I also pursue my hobbies, friendships, travel and a wide variety of activities that keep me constantly busy. My journey, my retirement road is not unusual. Many friends and acquaintances experience the same thing once they realize they have to get off the couch. After full careers doing what we have done, veterans and first responders have a great deal to offer in the workplace, as volunteers and in the world in general. In return, if you aren’t careful, you’ll find yourself becoming a better version of yourself along the way. Look forward. Never forget where you came from. Never forget those who helped you get there, those who sacrificed all and never forget the incredible previous chapter you’ve had.

But…look forward.

Our destination was Tallulah Falls State Park with the idea that we would hike, I would take a lot of photographs and maybe we would attempt to hike the gorge floor. After we arrived and settled in to the campground, we set out on a short, get-to-know the area hike. I, of course took my camera. We hiked to the North Rim and I was treated to some of the most beautiful scenery in the southeast. Then and there, I realized that in spite of my physical limitations and my relative lack of fitness I had to attempt the gorge floor hike. Based on recent experiences and what I was to learn about this hike, I was challenged about whether or not I should stay on safer ground for me or not. Double clicking on each image should enlarge them.

It was not without a good deal of anxiety, a great deal of preparation, and a lot of encouragement from my wife that I headed off to wait in line with her to see if we could even be lucky enough to get a permit to hike that day. You see, the park only issues one hundred permits per day to the first appropriately prepared potential hikers. No prospective hikers in flip flops, Crocs or parents carrying infants. We were eventually ushered in, briefed, and during the course of that briefing informed that we would traverse 1,066 steps, the hike should take approximately four hours, there was no marked trail, and the ascent/exit (unless we chose to go back the way we came in) was a nine hundred foot 45 degree scramble/climb that the ranger described as “the hardest hike you will ever have in your life”. There were murmurs in the room and some spilled coffee I think. After our briefing, we headed back to the campground (located adjacent to the gorge) for last minute preparation and dog walking.

By 9:30am we were heading out on our adventure presumably (if they all went) with 98 of our new best friends. Because some will wonder, I’ll answer the equipment question now. I was carrying my camera pack with my trusty Nikon D5300, two lenses, a full two liter hydration bladder, an assortment of basic survival stuff, food, my phone, water shoes and a towel. From the beginning of the hike until the ascent, the D5300 hung around my neck. We had perfect weather that showed off the staggering beauty of the gorge and I took pictures non stop with the Nikon and my iPhone. By the time we reached the gorge floor, it was in the mid 80’s, my legs were burning and I didn’t care. These images should show you why.

We weren’t certain what we would find when we reached the floor, but I was at this point, quite sure that the sweat soaked haul down the stairs and slippery river crossing had been worth it. For about the next two hours, maybe more…I lost track of time, we climbed, crawled, shimmied, hopped and hauled ourselves across a boulders and deadfall strewn riverbanks. The ranger was right (I had assumed it was hyperbole) there was no trail. There was, just a general direction worn by many others before us. Was it the right direction? Who knew? No blazes. No indication of any kind. A tall person could make it that way, a short one that way…figure it out as you go. And we did. We stopped and took in the beauty and rested a couple of times. We just breathed and looked and breathed some more.

Finally, we reached the end of the gorge floor hike a point called Sliding Rock. Many folks gathered there jubilantly availing themselves of the cool water and the slippery rock before turning around and going back the way they came in or making the climb out as we did.

We rested again and soaked in the scenery before making our final water crossing and starting the climb. About a hundred yards into the climb out (no pictures as it was so difficult and steep all my gear was secured) I realized my hydration bladder was empty. By this time it was bloody hot. The sun was beating down on this section of the gorge wall intensely whenever we broke out of the shade. Things went from difficult for me to very damn difficult. I’m certain based on how I felt and later examination of my Garmin that on the ascent I hit maximum heart rate. Eventually, we made it to the top, around the south rim and back to the campground. I was dehydrated, very sore already (the following morning even more so) but rarely have I been more glad to have spent three hours and 46 minutes of my life in nature. It was stunning.

The next day we hiked both rims and the suspension bridge again. This time I brought the telephoto lens.

I have previously written of challenging ourselves in retirement, getting out there and seeing what the world has to offer. The world has a fantastic amount to offer…a stunning, breathtaking amount of memories to be made. Our great challenge is getting out of our comfort zone, finding the beauty, making the memories and experiencing life to its fullest. I was challenged by some of my limitations physically. But I pushed the envelope, and thanks to a supportive wife, a great doctor, and the determination to see what lies around the next bend in the river I followed my own advice. The challenge was quite real and I can empathize with those who struggle. But, despite full body soreness and an afternoon bathing up on hydration, the rewards were substantial. Deeply grateful to be able to have done this.

May you all seek what is around the bend. May you all find beauty and peace and have the time and opportunity marvel at the world. You’ve earned it.

The American Crow (Corvus brachyrhynchos) is, I have come to find out in the broad class of songbirds. For hundreds of years this large, ominous, occasionally noisy black bird has been maligned by generations of humans. The crow has been the center of evil superstitions, believed to be bad luck, signs of a plague and so on. Farmers have shot them believing them to damage crops. Because they are omnivores and occasionally take the young of other birds, humans have great difficulty with that idea. These are but a few of the negative things spoken and written of the American Crow and his cousins.

A few months ago during my studies of the birds I have been photographing, I predictably came across the crow and began to study this big bird. What I found out after looking into the bird for a while was that absolutely everything that I thought I knew about crows was wrong. Crows are in fact highly intelligent, family oriented, sensitive creatures who have learned to survive alongside humans in spite of our litany of flaws. Maybe even exploiting some of our flaws. After learning how fascinating these majestic and bright birds are, I began the lengthy process of trying to attract them to my feeders. No simple task.

Eventually a pair began to show up regularly to eat at my feeder. They are cautious and wary of my camera and telephoto lens but I have managed a couple of decent photographs. This is what I have learned first hand about American Crows: 1. They are tender and loving. On two occasions, I have seen the pair alight on a branch of a tree in my yard. One of the two sat with its head lowered while the other gently preened it. Then after the caring attention, the one who had been doing the preening came to the feeder, retrieved food and brought it to the other one (see the first picture-you can see the food in its beak). 2. Sometimes they bring more of the family. Although the birds are shy and difficult for an amateur birder to discern differences, I am quite certain that the first two bring offspring to eat on occasion. When they do, they are quite cautious and will not eat at the feeder if I am outside which indicates a high degree of care for the family. 3. The birds have a broad diet. They love dog food kibble, but also eat peanuts, meal worms, mixed bird seed and insects from my yard. 4. Although they do not share well with blue jays at the feeder, I have seen no sign of aggression or anything to indicate that they are dangerous in any way.

So what is the “problem with crows”? As first responders and veterans, we are exposed to careers filled with trauma, vicarious trauma and endless stress of all kinds. Many of us became jaded by are fellow human beings behavior which includes lies on the best day and on the worst day unspeakable acts of violence. We form opinions about people, places, activities, and life in general based on our interactions and career. Some of this is based on a challenging career and some of this is a natural product of aging.

What if we are missing out on beauty, tenderness and genuine connection with people places and nature because we are in our own way? I believed what I believed about crows because I “just knew it”. Once I took the time and effort to find out for myself, these majestic sensitive creatures have added value to my life. As veterans and first responders, life is difficult enough during your career. There are well known dangers. Retirement presents lesser known challenges, but they are very real. I encourage anyone reading this to find the “crows” in your life and seek truth. It may lead to unexpected beauty and connections. Get out there, explore new worlds and make the best of the next chapter.

Few moments in a career are as sharply recalled as when you are called upon to step off of an otherwise perfectly structurally sound building that is five or six stories above ground. I recently had the honor to attend rappel day during a Basic SWAT School that the Tallahassee Police Department was conducting and had the opportunity to see these Basic SWAT students demonstrate their commitment to their craft, their faith in their teammates (and future teammates) as well as their equipment and their absolute trust in the instructors as they took the step over the edge.

Those who have not jumped tend to view this activity from two different camps. One is the “Hell NO” camp and the other is “I don’t get it” camp. The “Hell no” folks see the height of the tower and process it with their own fears and anxieties and rapidly land in the camp that they are in. The second camp tends to look on with passing curiosity and just not understand why someone would take the risk, why they climb the tower in the first place, why it is a skill required in Basic SWAT school, and maybe even wonder if they have anyone in their life whom they could trust enough to rig them prior to taking that first step. I’ve always understood the first group as I was never fan of rappelling, but never understood the “I don’t get it” camp.

Committing yourself to a cause, an ideal, a team, something greater than you are is noble. True commitment requires dedication and bravery. As many before me have said, bravery is not the absence of fear, but the continuance of the mission in spite of the fear. Climb that tower with your gut in knots. Put the harness on with an elevated heart rate. Look your teammate in the eye with mutual understanding that your life is quite literally in the hands of the rappel master. Hook up. Be inspected.

Shout “On rappel!” and hear the response “On belay!” Your heart pounds. No matter the temperature, beads of sweat pop out on your forehead. You look at the rappel master one last time and get a confident look of encouragement in response. Then you step and descend.

The best I can say for me and rappelling is that during the time I was training for SWAT Roundup, I was forced to rappel so many times, that I became less uncomfortable. Some lose all fear of it. Some remain petrified. But everybody on the team does it. Rappelling is just one of many intense experiences that forges trust between teammates, builds requisite skills to protect the community and builds the lifelong bonds between friends.

Unfortunately those “Hell no” and “I don’t get it” folks will likely never know the joy and exhilaration of overcoming an abject fear. Or the creation of a lifelong friendship forged on the top of the tower built with a hand shake and placement of your life in another’s hands. That kind of commitment, that kind of trust and faith is rare these days. I deeply admire these men for taking those steps, and I’m grateful to the team leadership for allowing an old fellow like me amongst you/them this week.

Confronting my fears while dangling on a rappel rope was just one of many profound experiences on the team. Those folks have turned out to be some of the most amazing people in my life…then and now.

Challenge yourself mightily and do so with friends. You will likely not regret doing so.

Many first responders and veterans are so dedicated to service that they forget self care should be an important part of all of our lives. A particularly poignant line in a movie I recently saw (Mending the Line) went something like “In the book of every soldier’s life, the military is a chapter. That’s it. Some people think it’s the whole book. No, it’s part of you. It never . . . never leaves you. But, it’s not . . . not the whole story.” We have to write the other chapters. No matter how bad ass the first responder or military chapter was, there will be something afterward. It’s up to us to author those subsequent chapters. With that in mind, some time ago I adopted the philosophy of trying to say “yes”. Yes to new challenges. Yes, to travel. Yes to new friends, places and experiences. It doesn’t always work, but mindfully making that decision to say “yes” was a leap in the right direction. So, when family members said they were camping in Tennessee this spring, I said yes, convinced my oldest son to go and the adventure began.

After a very long drive on my own and overnighting by myself, I picked my son up and we headed for Cumberland Mountain State Park. This was my first experience in a Tennessee state park and I found them nothing short of excellent. Clean, beautiful, well laid out and picturesque. We got set up, snapped a few pictures of birds on the feeders outside the office and went hiking. The trails wandered through mixed forest where the sunlight filtered through and made taking good photographs relatively easy. The trails were dotted with bridges, creeks, rapids, and lush undergrowth.

Once we exhausted the trails in Cumberland Mountain State Park, we set out to explore some nearby trails. The weather turned from near perfect to cool, very windy and raining. Not deterred, we set out to find a short section of the Cumberland Trail near us. When we arrived, it was drizzling and we parked in a parking lot near the base of a radio tower atop the mountain we were on. The wind was blowing with such force that it literally howled through the radio tower making an eerie noise as we set off. Although cold, the beauty of the trail was worth the trip and mild discomfort.

Our final day of exploration and hiking took us to Fall Creek Falls State Park. It was a good drive from our campground but absolutely worth it. As soon as we entered the park, we knew we were someplace special. Wild rapids, towering old growth trees and silence of the forest that I’m always drawn to with the background orchestra of a roiling river.

In spite of another day of rain, we were not deterred. The main attraction of the park awaited us. 150 foot waterfalls with shorter falls next to it. The hike down to the base of the falls was slow going over wet, slippery, jumbled rocks that was tough on my aging knees and would have made a tumble laden with camera gear unpleasant. But the views…the jaw dropping views. The views were enticing from above…

And only got better as we descended.

After we maxed out my heart rate climbing out of the falls, we checked out another set of falls nearby and some other sights in the park but barely scratched the surface of what there was to see and do. This place is special, beautiful beyond my poor command of the English language allows me to articulate, wild, and waiting for you to say “yes”.

After dropping my son off, I spent hours a state of semi-shock mire in interstate traffic having believed the alluring tale of the GPS (again) that the interstates were faster. The contrast between that mess and the beauty I had come from was too much to contemplate. After hours of agonizing traffic and increasing rain, I arrived in Florence Marina State Park in the RAIN. I set up in the rain and then the DRIVING rain. Which was, needless to say…unpleasant. I slept late the next day and spent some time looking for birds to photograph.

There have been times that I have regretted saying “yes”. This was not one of them. The trip included precious time with family, unparalleled low mountain beauty, and it surely qualifies as self care. I urge you all to extend yourself and after a life of service, say “yes” to new adventures, new friends, new beauty, to your family, and most importantly…to yourself.

A few of the photos above were taken by the much more talented photographer Colin Abbey. His work can be found at: https://colinabbeysphotography.com

Preface: First, it has been a good while since I have written. Uninspired and busy is a poor combination and for those who read and follow this blog I have endeavored to give you the best quality that I am capable of. So, writing just to write and churning out sub-par material seems counter productive. Secondly, the topic of this blog is leadership. Before I dive into this, I want to say up front that I do not profess to be a great leader of men. I do profess to have made many mistakes along my journey have found myself in a somewhat unique situation now where I have been able to humbly reflect upon those mistakes, share what I have learned with others and thusly create a better version of myself.

The assignment: Although retired, I work part time at a public safety communications organization. My primary capacity in this organization is wellness. In that mission, I take care of the dispatchers. I assist in providing peer support, critical incident stress debriefings, and other things that help the dispatchers thrive. The director of the organization (a long time friend and coworker of mine ) believes in this mission and wholeheartedly supports it. That said, he also believes in utilizing his staff to the best of their abilities. To that end, many months ago he approached me and challenged me to put together leadership training for the entire agency. Knowing that I had a strong background in training, some leadership experience, had assisted with training previously around the agency and knew most of the issues the agency faced, I suppose he felt I was right for the job. I, on the other had found the assignment daunting on many levels.

I ran at the assignment from a couple of different angles. Each time, I found myself stymied. Finally, I came up with what I believed would be the right fit for our agency. A custom built, tailor made nine hour training session with two guest speakers (our prosecutor and sheriff). It was a heavy, heavy lift.

The Build: It took me several weeks to build the class. The PowerPoint is over sixty slides long (plus accompanying lesson plan). There are handouts, coordinating and scheduling the guest speakers, classrooms, shift worker students and making certain that the content met the needs and expectations of the director of the organization. Aside from building the training, there were meetings, practice run throughs, a bit of pre-game drama and some concern about my syllabus and the time allotted. Since I had never taught this, was it too much? Too little? How would it work? Could I deliver it with the energy and focus that it warranted?

Game Day: As of this writing, I have presented three of the predicted five classes for the agency. The first of which was a condensed version for the administrative personnel which allowed me to do a run through on a faster timeline with a live audience. The next two classes were live nine hour long classes with the guest speakers and all. I learned an awful lot. First of all, I learned that apparently, I am not as young as I used to be. After nine hours…I was done. After two nine hours classes in one week, I was exhausted. I brought my best to the classroom. At the outset of the class I challenged the students with three things: 1. Be polite to me and each other. 2. If I agree to give them everything I had, all I asked in return is that they participate actively. and, 3. As we discuss the various aspects of leadership to reflect inwardly and see if there was anything we talked about that they could utilize in their lives to improve their leadership skills. Almost without exception (there are always one or two) I was delighted by the stunning level of engagement and professional demeanors during that engagement.

The Teacher Becomes the Student: I became a law enforcement instructor in the early 90s. I’ve been an FTO, a high liability trainer, taught academy classes, lectured civilians, had recurring teaching roles at a high school, and guest lectured for university classes. Each time I taught somewhere, I learned from my students/audience so it was no surprise when the employees at the PSAP (Public Safety Answering Point) where I work took to me to school. Here are a few things I learned and am grateful to have been present in the classroom for:

Never underestimate the ability of the students to surprise you. There were multiple surprises all throughout the classes, but here are some of the highlights. Most of the employees were grumpy about attending this compulsory training. It was long, came on some of their days off and some of the other employees had spread rumors about lack of breaks etc. that made it even less appealing. Even after all of that, I had numerous people in person and in writing (course evaluations) tell me that although they were not looking forward to the class and didn’t think the material had anything to do with them, they were now excited about it!

Personal growth sometimes happens in class right in front of you. A portion of the class has to do with discipline/corrective action as it relates to leadership. During the discussion of that during one class, a student who had not had much to say raised their hand and quietly said something to the effect of “I used to think I was being targeted, but then I realized that it was just me.” I was stunned, asked them to repeat this and we discussed it as a class. That was an amazing realization to come to and an even more amazing thing to share with the class!

There were also lessons that I learned from side discussions, classroom banter and exercises that disturbed me. One is that to divide is not to lead. Leaders by definition unite and inspire people to action. Divisiveness, should not be a part of en effective leader’s lexicon. Note-this was some of the stuff I overheard, not any agency practice. Finally, I learned that there are people who are under the impression that learning is finite. Education ends. Whether this is hubris, ignorance, or wether they actually are leadership experts who “didn’t learn anything new” in the nine hours of class with two exceptional guest speakers or not, only they know. What I know is that after all these years of teaching, I learn something every time I set foot in front of a class.

I may never have an opportunity to experience positional leadership again in my career. That’s okay with me. I grateful for my time behind the wheel and I am even more grateful for all the students over the years who taught the teacher.

Each of us found ourselves serving for different reasons. Each reason powerful and driving in its own way. All our reasons as varied as the servant warriors who don the uniforms each day and protect our nation, our cities and our homes. But, we share one thing in common…purpose. Our work, our lives, our mission gives us purpose. That purpose propels us forward. It drives learning, growth, challenges us in many ways, and creates social networks that last a lifetime. Many of these things can be quite difficult in the moment. I don’t mean to romanticize our lines of work at all. But, the truth is that in spite of the stressors, in spite of the challenges and difficulties, there is great power in purpose. Servant Warriors, especially when functioning as a team with a well defined mission (purpose) can accomplish great things.

So what happens when a servant warrior driven by purpose reaches the end of that first servant warrior career? Or, what happens when that career is cut short by injury, politics or some other force beyond our control? Well, in my experience, some drift. Lacking purpose, lacking team, lacking motivation and social connections that previously acted as thier GPS they simply drift.

I drifted. Everyone needs to decompress after a life of stressful service. No one disputes that least of all me. I realized that I was adrift when I found myself standing in front of the family washer and dryer with our vacuum next to me and one of my dogs looking up at me. As I separated lights from darks in preparation for washing I also separated the delicates from the items that could be dried, I had the following epiphany: I used to carry a machine gun to work, I was responsible for a SWAT team, a narcotics unit, high risk operations in the capital of a major state of our country. Now, I’m separating laundry for the 100th time, talking to the dog and contemplating my grocery list. Nothing wrong with any of that, but, I was adrift and I needed purpose. This was not enough. I needed to learn new things. I needed someplace where people relied on me for something. I needed to build new social connections, take on responsibility other than the laundry and the scintillating conversation with the dog and generally chart a new course instead of drifting.

The benefits of “re-charting” and finding new purpose are vast. Learning new things, challenging yourself and establishing new social connections can keep older adults mentally sharp and even delay the onset of dementia or Alzheimer’s Disease. Our circles of friends and acquaintances shrink as we age and expanding that circle is wise as it leads to more instead of fewer engagements. If your “re-charting” means employment (it doesn’t have to) that can mean a supplemental source of income at a time when most of us need it (anyone look at healthcare prices for retirees?). Recent studies have shown that cultures where people work longer also tend to be cultures where they also live longer. The list of potential benefits is quite long and could certainly chew up a blog of its own.

So, why do people chose to drift? I suspect that some don’t recognize it as drifting. They may see it as “relaxing”. Why should they go join a club, volunteer, or get a part time job? They already worked a full career. Another reason may just be because it’s damn difficult. It’s tough to make yourself go do things with people you don’t know. To fill out applications, to risk rejection, to force your brain to learn new and challenging things. Damn. Its tough. But, wait, servant warriors are tough people and the consequences of not having purpose are dire! They include but are not limited to physical decline, mental decline, isolation, depression and premature death. If you are reading this and have not retired from your servant warrior job, I challenge you to plan to chart a new course after retirement. If you have retired and have not, I encourage you to do so. And, if you have “re-charted”, then I applaud you and ask that you tell others about the things it does for you.

One of the things that I realized pretty quickly when I got out there and attempted to correct my drift was that this chapter of my life was not like the earlier chapters. In earlier chapters, we have little in the way of resumes, experience, knowledge and understanding. We are likely not sought after as we don’t have much in the way of any kind of skillset to offer a prospective employer. This chapter is different. We come with all the stuff. We come with a long resume, long lists of skills, all kinds of things that make us attractive to employers and experience and training that makes retired servant warriors people employers want on their payroll. Once you get out there, once experience, leads to another. If you don’t like what you are doing, bounce to the next and don’t settle for anything except the job that makes you happy and fulfilled. You earned it. Go get it. Don’t settle for anything less than a new course that takes you into waters that makes you happy.

A few years ago when I picked up the camera in earnest birds became frequent subjects of mine. Frequent mostly on account of their abundance and easy access. After some years and occasional success capturing the beauty, diversity and glory, I came to realize that birds are, simply put an often overlooked gift to us from God that the camera lens allows a lucky photographer to capture.

On occasion, the photographer gets exceedingly lucky and captures a moment when the light is right that the human eye would not have been otherwise capable of seeing. Sometimes the aid of a telephoto lens, the speed of the camera and the seeming cooperation of the bird its self come into play. As I have struggled with a chronic pain condition that has limited my mobility in some ways and the activities that I pursue in others, sometimes sitting with the camera waiting waiting for my avian friends is a welcome distraction.

The number of species that visits my yard and feeders has been surprising. Each one expressing themselves differently, with their own pecking order and way of doing things. And, the camera uncovers these secrets so much more effective than my eyes.

Now and again, the beautiful and statuesque can be comical and less than graceful. Once again, a little luck, the right equipment and some persistence and you find yourself with a couple of laughs at the bird’s expense.

I encourage anyone reading to pick up a camera, look around you, pay attention to the feathery creatures we share space with and see what beauty you can capture! We live in the digital age. The worst that can happen is you waste a bit of time, a delete a few images. There is beauty everywhere.

It’s North Florida. Afternoon thundershowers are a fairly normal occurrence here. So, I wasn’t surprised when while out running errands recently when the skies opened up. No big deal. The usual series of things proceeded to happen where I live; people drive as though they have never seen rain before, traffic congests, tempers flare, parking spaces near entries to buildings are non existent and many common curtesies aren’t common any longer. As I was not in any particular hurry, I waited inside my vehicle, chatted on my phone and when the worst of the rain had passed and I could no longer delay the inevitable, I got out and ventured toward the grocery store. I had been outside my car no more than a second or two and had fortunately just closed the door of my vehicle when one of my kindly fellow citizens came through this crowded grocery store parking lot in his sizable SUV at about triple the safe speed for that parking lot at that time, especially in that weather. In doing so, he soaked me under the wall of water generated by his SUV and that tsunami blasted the cars on both sides of the parking aisle as well. “What a great F@#! American” I muttered as I slogged my way to the grocery store and wondered what the hell is wrong with people.

To make matters worse, I had just returned home after evacuating. My wife, dogs and I had chosen to get out of Dodge ahead of the wobbly drunken sailor that was Hurricane Idalia. Forecast to make landfall at one point directly south of where I live as a category four, being retired, having previously been required to work through these events and now not having to do so, we have plans in place to scram. I was surprised and confused when the storm blessedly careened east of us and spared my home town much more than tropical storm force winds that some of my friends and acquaintances seemed to evaluate my evacuation and the governmental response based on the eventual outcome. Curious. Some of these folks said things like “nothing more than an overblown thunderstorm” and “We live inland and were never in any danger these storms only effect the coast” and finally the partially true “The media always exaggerates these storms. It was no big deal”. Fact check: My city had 45,000 residents without power in the aftermath of the storm. Outlying areas did not regain power for as long as two weeks and these were the areas only hit by tropical storm force winds. The area where the storm made landfall and worked its way inland will not be the same for years to come. Some thunderstorm.

I am going to take just a moment to set a couple of records straight. In 1985 when I was in college, a little storm called Kate came rambling through my town on a nearly identical trajectory as Idalia. Kate was supposedly a “minimal” category two when she came breezing through our neck of the the woods and she knocked the frame out of our community for weeks. I hid in the bathtub of my rental duplex with a stray dog I’d found as tornados ripped all around the house. When I finally summoned up the courage to come out, it looked like a movie set…and one that I wouldn’t want to be on. In 2018, Hurricane Michael came ashore with a fury that was historic. Wind ripped buildings completely off foundations. Snapped trees like matchsticks. Killed, maimed and left entire communities homeless. So what kind of stinking thinking has crept into our collective minds that evaluating the potential danger of these storms should now be based on outcome? It missed us therefore it wasn’t dangerous???

Is it possible that these two seemingly unrelated topics (me getting soaking by some thoughtless jerk in the grocery store parking lot and some odd inability to critically think about natural disasters in our area) might be related? The more I thought about the problems, the more I believe that they are related. Hear me out, this might be one of my lengthier ones, but hopefully I’ll bring it together.

What seems to be missing in how people are treating each other lately? What’s missing in the risk analysis of these natural disasters? The ability for people to critically think in the twenty first century appears to have been seriously eroded, kindness is much more rare, and there is this strange inability to see anything except for what is happening right now. he last one is difficult, ephemeral, and wispy as concepts go. But it is there. Long term goals are less valued. Pension? what’s a pension?

Critical thinking is something that we all need to be able to be able do. Some are able to do it better than others, but I posit that most can be taught how to critically think. I recall vividly in school bringing newspaper clippings into class of things (politics etc.) that interested me and that I supported. We would have class discussions (civil) and then we would be forced to argue against what we believed in. Those types of things forced you to think in an educational setting. Before technology dominated our lives, a tree would fall across a road and we would have to work out with maps and our knowledge of the city alternate routes to get to where we were going. Technology has given us great advances in many ways, I it has also, I fear produced a “garbage in garbage out” effect. Most people don’t have to exercise that muscle at all and if they are in need of problem solving, they “ask Google or SIRI”. Or, even worse seek information on social media. No research needed. No real thought required. No independent sources cited. Algorithms feeding us what they think we want and need.

Traffic and grocery stores seem to be excellent microcosms of society to observe kindness in our fellow humans. What do the people who tailgate get out of tailgating anyhow? What about the guy who leaves his grocery cart in the middle of the aisle in the grocery store while he aimlessly compares ingredients on two loafs of bread while other shoppers back up in two directions? The list can go on…has your small town seemingly felt larger? More like a big city and less like akin to a small community? The city in which I reside is one where we did not lock our doors when I was growing up. Now it is one of the per capita most violent cities in the country. Many simple kindnesses are gone and I imagine social scientists will study the reasons for years and I suspect there is no one reason but one reason that stands out is the disease of “what’s in it for me?”. Let me start by saying that I do not object to doing something for yourself. We work to earn money for ourselves and our family etc. That said, sometimes we can, and we should just do things for others out of kindness. Yes, that’s right I said it. Just out of kindness. With no plan to be recognized. No plan to be paid back in some way. No thought of anything except just…doing something kind. Like, for example holding a door open for someone. Slowing down in a busy parking lot. Obeying the residential speed limit (oh yeah, that checks the critical thinking box too). Helping a neighbor (do you even know yours?). Giving money to a cause anonymously. Studies also show that these acts of kindness are also good for you.

I won’t spend a lot of time on the strange “live in the moment” thing I sense from a lot of people. But, it seems that it comes from an ever changing landscape of social media. This moment to moment landscape that has been created of likes, hits, views, trends and so on. Then, something changes and on to something else. Almost like some sort of electronic algorithmic ADD. There is only now, maybe tomorrow, but ten years from now? That’s ridiculous.

So what are the answers? There are no easy answers. To begin with, We must stop treating each other with disrespect and like enemies. If we disagree on something then we have to learn (once again) to do so in a respectful manner. A different opinion does not make one an enemy. We have to teach our children and our friends to critically think. Use the supercomputers in our pockets (our smart phones folks). Check various sources. Even check sources that (perish the thought) you may not politically agree with. Listen to voices other than your own or than “the algorithm”. The man who shouts into the silo only hears his own voice. Fact check. If it is important, or if it sounds outrageous, do some research and take the time to fact check. Recall that even if you disagree with your neighbor, you probably have hundreds of more things in common with him/her than the one or two things that you disagree about. Make an effort to find that common ground. It might just humanize them and might make it more difficult to make them into an enemy. Practice kindness. Hold doors for people. Say “yes” to projects at work even if you don’t want to do them. Volunteer somewhere without posting it all over social media for the world to see. Quietly do something for a neighbor. Drive like you live there. Remember that could be you under the wall of water in that parking lot. Work to build a callus on your hand to benefit someone else.

Grateful to our friends who showed us kindness and allowed us to shelter with them as Idalia came our way. Critical thinking, kindness and teamwork are required while dealing with a cattle like these. The bull in the pen was getting a vet visit and his horns measured at the same time. 89 inches as I took the picture.

There is a storm coming our way folks and if we don’t change our ways, we might just look up one day and find ourselves in the middle of it. Maybe a little less time on social media worrying about like, clicks, trends and so on and a little more time in the real world caring for the real people who inhabit it.

Matthew 22:39

We arrived in Chattanooga a few days before the race, got settled into the hotel and oriented to the city. Lori had been here before, raced previously and was anxiously awaiting the arrival of members of her team (Big Sexy Racing). Our hotel was about eight blocks from the river and we walked everywhere we went for the entire weekend. Chattanooga is a lovely city. The downtown area has obviously seen a substantial amount of rehabilitation and seemed welcoming to the athletes and accompanying friends and families. Reasonable walks from the hotel took us to good food, interesting sights, rolling hills, curated gardens, waterfalls bursting from nowhere, the Aquarium, the art museum and miles of walking paths along the river.

As I was not competing in this race, and I realized that I would be out on the race course for a considerable amount of time with the camera while my wife was racing, I thought I would share a little bit about triathlon, why people are nuts enough to participate and this race in particular. To begin with, there are race distance to suit nearly everyone. For those who are just getting started or who would like to scream along the course at top speed for a short distance, there is the sprint distance. It consists of a half mile swim, a 12.4-15 mile ride and a 3.1 mile run. Then there is an Olympic distance and the then the 70.3. If you choose the 70.3, then you get to swim 1.2 miles, ride 56 miles and finish with a 13.1 mile run. The 140.6 distance has a 2.4 mile swim, a 112 mile ride and a 26.2 mile run. Distances may vary slightly according to terrain and available waterways and roadways. None of these endeavors should be taken lightly, but training for the 70.3 distances and above is intense. 70.3 finish times for average athletes can range from 5 hours and 45 minutes to 6 hours 45 minutes. That is a long day of constant strenuous exercise and it is not to be taken lightly.

So, one might ask, why in the world do people take on these challenges? Well, there are as many reasons as there are people who race, but let me address a couple. When I retired, I needed a mountain to climb. I needed a challenge. I missed the SWAT team I had been a part of, the narcotics team I had been a part of, I missed the goals, the challenges and people around me who were driven to achieve them. I found that in triathlon. And, I found that within myself training and competing (competing with myself-I was never “competitive” in the sport). Some do triathlon because others said they could not. Some do it because they experienced near death or life altering experiences and are fighting back, and a challenging, self paced sport is a useful milestone. Each athlete has a story. And each story is compelling.

It is my hope that in telling the story of Iron Man Chattanooga 2023 70.3, it will inspire some to take up the sport or at least begin to pursue healthy lifestyles if you aren’t doing so now.

Iron Man is a logistics machine. This year, Chattanooga reportedly had approximately 3,000 registered athletes supported by 1,000 volunteers. They arrive a couple of days before the race and begin to take over sections of the city the race takes place in. The photos above show the village and transition area the day before the race as bike check in commences.

Sunday morning athletes and spectators were up early. Transition opens some two hours before the race and athletes want to make certain that their equipment is just right and that they have everything. I made it to the transition area at about 6:15am so that I could be there for the 6:33am sunrise. The image in the upper left below is 3,000 athletes waiting for shuttles to take them to the race start upriver in the light provided by Iron Man generators.

At dawn the professional women and disabled athletes hit the water for the first leg of the race. I had wedged myself into the near perfect spot to catch them coming up the hill from the river to transition.

I failed to consider one thing when selecting my “near perfect” spot to catch the athletes on their way to Transition One (T1)…my bladder. By the time Lori hit the water for the start, I had to leave my spot and was not able to return to it. However, I was able to get some splendid views and pictures from my secondary spot of the swim exit and wet suit strippers. For those readers who may not be familiar, in some wet suit legal (where water temperature is low enough to warrant/allow the wearing of wet suits) races, some races have volunteers who help “strip” the wet suits from the athletes. Blech. Bless the hearts of the volunteers it cannot be a fun job.

With the swim finished, Lori set out on the bike. One of Lori’s teammates very graciously loaned me a bag chair and I parked myself strategically near the bike finish and relaxed in the shade. Even at 16-18 miles per hour (her average speeds in the hills and wind) it takes a while to finish 56 miles. So I waited, watch and chatted with other spectators and tracked her on the Iron Man Tracker. Lori wears a pink helmet and shoes. Prior to this, I had no clue how many athletes wore pink helmets and shoes, but I am now keenly aware that a great many do. I am also aware that the more athletes got on the course that day, the more lag it appeared the tracker had. I got a couple of nice pictures of other athletes in pink helmets on their bikes approaching T2 who were not Lori. Eventually, the tracker said she was two miles away. In an abundance of caution, I packed up my loaned chair and camera bag and as another spectator commented on yet another woman in pink going by…I realized I had missed Lori. So, picture below is not Lori, but a talented athlete arriving at T2 in a pink helmet and shoes.

Leaving T2, athletes head out on a run and head uphill. By this time the temperature had gotten up to around 80 and it was clear and breezy.

Finishing a race like this fills an athlete with a mixture of emotions. Relief. Pride. Gratitude. Sense of accomplishment. I miss racing. I hope that I am able to get back to it someday. I am proud of my wife, her teammates and the other athletes who rocked it Sunday.

If you have been one of the few loyal readers of this blog, thank you. This may be one of my last or at least one of the last in the form that the blog has taken previously. I’ve asked myself the tough questions concerning the low interest and low readership. Some of the answers to my inquiries may be my steadfast refusal to get back onto social media platforms such as Facebook. Refusal to do so has no doubt negatively impacted my ability to acquire a wider readership. Some of the answers may lie in the somewhat niche area that Ive chosen to write about and some quite frankly may lie in the fact that adults do like being told to sit down and eat their vegetables, exercise and take their vitamins. Whatever the reasons, I write for a very small audience that requires a substantial amount of effort for for very little in the way of returns and I am weighing my options…continue with modifications? Or discontinue?

First responders loathe change. We hate the way things are and bitch about the idiots who landed us in this predicament but would rather take a beating than change. But, change we do. When I started in law enforcement, I came to work with a revolver and a pair of speed loaders. Then I purchased my own double action only .45 ACP pistol. Then, my agency went through a couple of iterations of Sig Sauer .40 caliber pistols, then the Glocks in .40 caliber. Now my old agency carries Glocks in 9mm. Things change. We recognized the need for that. In our personal lives, we moved, got new roommates, got married, and had kids, They graduated from college and moved out. We retired. Circles of friends change.

At the beginning of my career, a patrol officer with a model 19 revolver and a Remington 870 shotgun was considered heavily armed and well prepared in my jurisdiction. During that time, what we primarily saw (and we saw plenty of them) were small frame revolvers and small caliber semi-automatic handguns. By the time I retired in 2018, I felt naked as a watch commander without a high capacity handgun with extra magazines, a bailout bag that included magazines and medical supplies and a patrol rifle.

That great squad I was on back in 1998 doesn’t still hang out after work or work out together. Hell, some don’t even live near me. The wonderful group of mothers and fathers who helped each other survive the endless summer swim meets have gone their separate ways, and I don’t see the guys on my old team as much as I’d like to. Back when I started, I cut my hair because it was regulation. Now, my hair is short because I have no other choice…I’m bald.

We change. Times change and we adapt or evolve in so many ways over the years, why is it that as we ease into our sixties that suddenly becomes more difficult? Our already small circle of friends shrinks and we become more isolated. For some years studies have shown that people in their sixties begin to become more socially isolated and I think first responders and veterans can be more vulnerable to this isolation. All of us were once part of close knit, purpose driven teams (even if some were dysfunctional) and moving away from those teams is a difficult transition. In addition, humans are by nature gregarious creatures. We rely on each other for all kinds of things and living in relative isolation deprives us of those things we rely on. Studies have shown that social isolation can lead to increases in cognitive problems, heart disease decreased life expectancy and a host of other health problems.

The conundrum is in part because as we age we become inflexible. We like what we like and who we like. We are stuck in our ways and new and different things and people can be uncomfortable and challenging. In addition, Warrior Servants can experience difficulty bonding with people outside our groups making development of social connections even more difficult.

So what to do? Although the following answers are straightforward, they exceptionally difficult and require the highest levels of self discipline, effort and occasionally…courage. We have to step out of our comfort zones. Find a part time job doing something you enjoy where people depend on you and you can learn something new and meet new people. Volunteer somewhere. Join a club. There are literally hundreds of choices that range from nature clubs to book clubs. Join an exercise group. Join a church group. Take some classes to learn a new craft, hobby or skill. Whatever you do, you need to mindfully become part of a new group or groups. That group should be learning something. Doing something. Creating something and they should expect you to be there.

You are valued. There are people waiting to meet you and learn the value of your skills, insights and abilities that you spent a lifetime building and refining. As they learn the value of those things, you may make one of the most valuable things in life…a friend.

First responders and members of the military spend their careers toiling in intense, close knit team environments. Assignments and responsibilities vary as widely as the personalities of the people in these vital jobs and there is little dispute that the careers are challenging, intense, and reliant on teamwork. Then comes retirement. Predictably, as we enter retirement, many of us are suffering from compassion fatigue, frustration with our employers, physical aches and pains and fatigue in general so the idea of doing nothing or devoting ourselves to a single recreational passion is remarkably tempting. Therein lies the retirement paradox.

At the time in our lives when many are strongly drawn to just throwing our hands up and calling “time out”, I am going to urge you to do the opposite. Make no mistake, I recognize and in fact endorse a brief period of rest, recovery and just breathing. After that period however, we need to get moving. Resist the temptation to do nothing, to withdraw, to occupy yourself with a single hobby or pastime. Instead, make the monumental effort (and it will be tougher than you expect) to challenge yourself and experience new things.

Probably two of the most important things that we can all do as we transition from our military/first responder career to retirement is to exercise and maintain and in fact expand social connections. Study after study place these two things at the top of lists of how to live longer and more productive lives. It seems pretty straightforward, but after our careers, there are some obstacles.

As we age (most of us anyhow) exercise becomes more challenging. We experience physical challenges and motivational challenges that can be surprisingly difficult to overcome. But, exercise we must. Adapt, improvise and overcome your challenges. Find new ways of exercising. Get a workout buddy. Someone to hold you accountable and challenge you. If you can’t run anymore, walk. If you can’t crash through the woods on a mountain bike any longer, try the recumbent bike (yes, boring I know) at the gym. Whatever you do, get moving. The science is solid. Exercising four times a week for in excess of twenty minutes improves your physical well being, improves your psychological well being (and mood), staves of dementia related ailments and, in summary helps us live happier, healthier, and longer lives.

Images above:

Top-My friend and former FTO Paul Sheddan. Now Mayor of Saint Marks, Florida. Bottom left-My friend and mentor Dave Ferrell before a hike and photography expedition. Middle bottom-Me at work sitting with a talented and dedicated dispatcher on a police radio position. Bottom right-me and my friend and former coworkers Rod Looney and Ken Bergstrom at a baseball game.

Maintaining and establishing social connections may be even more difficult than exercising. During our careers, we were likely part of a team. Whether team was dysfunctional in some way or vibrant and and thriving we were part of a team. We were working with like minded people who had similar interests, goals and aspirations. We made lifelong friends and shared intense experiences that ranged from hilarious to dangerous. Many of those bonds last a lifetime. However (I know this is tough to believe for those of you not yet retired) many of the people you are closest to right now will drift away in a matter of months after you retire. It is not that you did anything or didn’t do anything to cause that drift…you simply are not in their orbit any longer. People have busy lives and balancing family, personal and professional lives is remarkably challenging so they forget about folks who aren’t in their orbit daily. And, if they don’t forget, they are so busy that making time is all but impossible.

This means that it is our responsibility to maintain old connections and seek new ones. As a reminder, this aspect of healthy living and aging is nearly as important as exercise and has been verified in a variety of studies over the years.

So how do we accomplish this? First, identify people in your life who are vital to you and are worth effort (unfortunately careful consideration after a few months of retirement will likely lead you to the conclusion that everyone isn’t) and dedicate yourself to maintaining relationships with them. Call them. Text them. Take time for meals, coffee, shared adventures and opportunities. This will require some self discipline but the juice is worth the squeeze. Secondly, we absolutely must put ourselves out there and create opportunities to meet new people and form new friendships that are not based on our previous career. Sign up for a class. Find a part time job doing something new. Join a club. Do something new at a place you have previously been involved with (like taking a yoga class at your gym). Volunteer somewhere. Instead of simply attending your church, get involved. Each one of these suggestions has its own specific challenges and rewards. Only you can know what is right for you and it may take some time and trial and error to figure out what thing or combination of things is right for you. Failure to challenge ourselves in this manner can lead to loneliness, isolation, depression and lack of personal growth. None of which seem consistent with a vibrant, healthy and happy retirement.

There are things in our life that are beyond our control. Aspects of our health, how friends and coworkers respond to our retirement, and so on. There are also aspects of our life that are squarely within our control and vital to our health and happiness. I encourage all to make the effort. The payoff is incredible.

Life has an amazing tendency to fill our emotional cup. When this happens, it can seem as though there is a fire hose filling our cup instead of a gentle and manageable flow from the kitchen tap. Troubles at work, troubles at home, illnesses, friends in need, exposure to trauma and profound human adversity can rapidly fill the emotional cups of even the most resilient among us. Then, just when we believe that life has settled down and our coping mechanisms have stabilized our full cups…one last drop falls into the already full cup and our emotions overflow and make a mess of things. It happens every day in first responder agencies, the military and veterans communities across the country. Sometimes with tragic consequences. But, what if I were to tell you that there a straightforward way to prevent some of this? What if we had a model that helped prevent the overflowing cups from making a mess of things when that one last unexpected drop added to them?

Spoiler alert: we do.

Peer support and peer to peer counseling can be highly effective in managing low level troubles before they become acute. I’ll save those of you who may not be familiar a Google search and explain. A peer to peer counseling program utilizes employees who demonstrate an aptitude and interest to “counsel” (mostly listen to) other members of an organization. These peer counselors complete training, are certified and should be then supervised by someone with a higher level of training. In my case, I was blessed and exceptionally grateful to have a boss who is highly skilled and who was very patient with me when I began the peer support adventure. Peer counselors can be readily available and as they are embedded and hopefully trusted members of the organization already should be trusted. Both of those advantages make them well suited to serve within Warrior Servant servant professions.

There are multiple keys to any peer support program succeeding, but chief among them is absolute trust. In professions where our professional currency is built on a foundation of trust in our ability to perform under even the most difficult of circumstances, the stigma of being “troubled” can prevent warrior servants from getting the help they need. They worry about losing assignments, promotions, and so on. Add to that concern that many in the profession are lied to literally all the time (at least some days it can seem that way), absolute trust is the rebar that holds the foundation of any successful peer support program together. No one wants to share their troubles with someone they don’t trust. Especially a warrior servant. Programs can benefit from solid policy and well thought out laws to help with this issue. In my home state, we have Florida Statute 111.09 that helps solidify confidentiality.

Since my target audience includes members of professions who are by nature often suspicious and often view any effort at mental health with great trepidation, I’ll take a moment to chat about what peer support and peer counseling is and is not. Succinctly, it is not psychotherapy, it is not creating excuses for someone not to work, and it is not a covert way for management to collect information on its employees. It is a way for employees to unburden themselves to someone in their professional ecosystem and subsequently feel better. By doing so, the aim is to make the employee safer and more effective while doing an already difficult and dangerous job.

If your agency doesn’t have a peer support program, I urge you to look into starting one. If it does, don’t be shy about using it. Effectively dealing with the problems the warrior servant professions throw our way now can make the future a whole lot more pleasant. It may also prevent tragedy.

Stay safe.

As I have previously written, my belief is to get the most out of life and especially retirement, we should all pursue our passions. I have recently been blessed to have four of those passions collide in two hikes in the Saint Marks Wildlife Refuge. Friends, family, photography and the splendor of our natural world. On New Years Day, my wife and I set out on a foggy, overcast day. We were treated to wild otters, wild hogs, a vast number of alligators and quite possibly tens of thousands of birds. Today, I set out with a long time friend, mentor and former coworker Dave Ferrell. Although we began our hike in the early morning fog, it soon burned off and we were treated to brilliant sunshine and sun-splashed vistas of pristine marshland.

On both hikes (as is the case on most occasions when I hike) as soon as the sounds of the highway and people faded into the distance, I found myself at peace. My senses heighten, and I see and hear things that I might have ignored earlier. Walking quietly through the stunning landscape quiets the mind and feeds the soul.

After spending time with people I care about in a place of such stunning beauty and peace doing things I love to do, I find myself awash in gratitude. If you are still working as a first responder or in the military, take time to explore things that interest you. If you are retired…pursue your passions! Doing so will most certainly bring you great satisfaction, peace and a sense of gratitude.

From the time I began my first law enforcement academy, it was beaten into us that we were to be “in control”. Control the suspect, the victim, the scene, turn chaos into calm and then go on to the next call. And the next and the next and the next. In the Field Training Program, trainers would mark us down and provide remedial training if we failed to control a scene (rightfully so). Part of the way that many of us learned to wrest that control was to tamp down our emotions and do the job. Dead baby? Tamp down emotions and do the job. Gunshot victim? Tamp down the emotions and do the job. You have to. If a first responder or member of the military allows the horror of what they are seeing, experiencing and living soak all the way in then emotions bubble up and completing the mission becomes difficult if not impossible.

So, we experience the trauma. Whatever the day has to offer, we roll in it, wear it and go home at the end of the tour of duty wearing it like bad body odor lingering in clothing that should have been discarded years ago. The first responder community is slowly beginning to recognize that we have to figure out a way to wash the stench of trauma off of us. While there is no magic soap for this, no bath that can make us forget the burned body, the screams or the pooling blood, we are finding a way forward. As much as it pains me to say so, the fire services have been leading the way with this. Pioneering Peer to Peer counseling, and robust wellness programs. The IAFF (International Association of Fire Fighters) has a fantastic curriculum (https://www.iaff.org/peer-support/) that can be in person training and virtual training. A Peer to Peer program offers an excellent way to manage trauma that first responder find less uncomfortable that traditional counseling or EAP.

Our challenge as first responders, veterans or active duty military is to do our jobs as effectively as possible. Still run toward the sound of gunfire, crawl through the window of the burning building to rescue the baby or handle the suicide scene where the guy killed himself by stepping in front of the freight train and to not go home stinking of trauma.

You see, the trouble with trauma I’ve learned is that no matter what we want or don’t want…no matter how tough, no matter how strong, no matter how experienced, we will deal with trauma. We ignore it at our own peril. We will either deal with it on our terms mindfully and intentionally, or we will deal with it on trauma’s terms. Trauma doesn’t care that your spouse wants to celebrate your anniversary, that your kid has a game, that you just want to sit and watch a movie. No it doesn’t care. When it is ready for you to deal with its shit, it will bubble up and your cup will overflow right then. Your desires and intentions be damned, trauma ignored is a ticking time bomb that you may not be able to see or hear until it explodes at the least opportune time you can imagine.

So, what are we to do? To begin with, first responder agencies and the military must acknowledge the damage that untreated trauma does to our community (and by “our community” I mean the first responder and military community AND the community we reside in). Stop teaching our trainees to ignore it. Stop joking about it and the unhealthy ways that we have dealt with trauma for decades. Understand what wellness for responders is and is not. It is, helping our people live their best lives and be the most effective that they can be at work and at home. It is NOT sticking pacifiers in the mouths of our responders. It is not giving them excuses for not working and it is definitely not holding hands and crying while we sing your favorite song. Teach coping methods, build and provide robust resources and take the time to learn how the hell to do these things correctly. Build programs. Send people to training and then (crazy talk here) listen to what they learned when they return and apply it.

If you are an administrator with your hands on the reins of your agency, consider this for one moment; if you had the ability to create a program that effectively treated trauma (I mean vicarious trauma too) and prevented even one divorce, one substance misuse, one arrested member, one prolonged mental illness or…God forbid, one suicide, wouldn’t do just that?

If you are an administrator who has already done that (such as where I work now), thank you. You are changing lives, saving lives and taking care of your agency and the community at the same time.

The trouble with trauma is that we all experience it, but for a variety of reasons we don’t all deal with it when we experience it. If you are one of the very few people who read this blog and this sounds familiar, please be proactive. Please urge your agency to develop and utilize effective programs for our warrior servants. And…please take care of yourself.

There comes a time in the lives and careers of most first responders and members of the military when they begin, slowly at first, discussing retirement. The discussions grow in duration and intensity as the predicted date approaches. The young ones ask the soon to be retired when they will be going in a thinly veiled effort to attempt to decipher organizational matrixes, promotional opportunities and in an effort to respectfully interact with the senior member. The other senior members share ideas, disdain for the organization, stories of the “good old days” and most importantly…what they intend to do in retirement.

Buried in those conversations are the fairy tales we tell ourselves and others. Fairy tales of vibrant health, single-mindedly pursuing that one thing that we love. Those on the glide path to retirement can be overheard speaking in reverent hushed tones about “golf’, “fishing” and the like. I participated in many such discussions wherein I told what I now understand are fairy tales and listened to others tell some. These are harmless daydreams often shared by members of a broad and diverse group who sorely deserve peace, adventure, and dreams realized…the warrior servants of our country.

But alas, in spite of the group richly deserving the things they seek, there are some obstacles that change the discussion from dreams hoping to be realized to the fairy tales they most often are. The most frequent obstacles to realizing the dreams discussed come in the form of financial surprises and difficulties, health and vitality, and the need for purpose. Before I discuss the topic at hand here, there are a couple of orders of business. First, I recognize that all people, especially warrior servants need to find their own way and in doing so, often resist any effort by anyone to provide guidance or insight. Understood. I was (and still am to some degree) the same way. Secondly, I am not an expert in all (or any for that matter) matters concerning retirement. What I am is a retired warrior servant who made a great many errors myself and can speak for my experiences. So, what follows are my opinions, which like anyones, should be taken seriously but with a huge grain of salt. Do your own research. Lastly, retirement is a huge life change. Expect difficulties, bumps in the road, changes, required adaptations and unlike many of the fairy tales we tell each other, stresses unique to the phase of life called retirement.

All the problems in life and especially retirement for warrior servants present unique challenges. Over the course of careers as first responders and members of the military, we are taught and train, to be prepared, and to be adaptable. The first area we should apply those same principles to in preparation for retirement is financial preparation.. Begin by living within your means. Save until you can’t stand it any longer. Teach your family to do the same and resist the temptation to keep up with the Joneses. Equally important, find a reputable financial advisor and do it soon. Even if you are smart with your investments, there are very few warrior servants who are good enough to literally place their futures and their families futures in their hands in this regard. A good financial advisor will objectively look at your whole situation, asses your goals, and help you reach them. If anyone reading this is not a senior warrior servant, the importance of being financially secure when you reach retirement age cannot be overstated. You can do it and if you start early and with the right guidance, you can do it better than you can imagine.

Since all of us adult learners like to know the “why”, let me share a few things with you all. First, healthcare. The cost of healthcare while you are working is likely ridiculous unless you are quite lucky. However, healthcare in retirement can look like a mortgage payment. I fear that when confronted by this information for the first time in the retirement office, I sounded as though I had Tourette’s . Children grow and we all go through a sweet spot where they cost less. And then they don’t. Late high school, college, trade schools, transportation needs, medical, weddings and so on cost a hell of a lot of money. Meanwhile, you still have to maintain your house, your vehicles, and yourself while trying to live the dream and “see the world”. If you are not on very solid financial ground, you may find yourself seeking another full time job with benefits as a retiree. Less than optimal for a lot of us.

I’m going to pause here for a moment to address something important. Some warrior servants want to continue to work full time in retirement. If that is your thing, then bless you! The experience, training, maturity and leadership that retired warrior servants can bring to the work force is beyond fantastic. Find the thing that makes you happy and provides for you and your family and go for it. If working full time makes you happy, then I’m happy for you! Just know that some day, even that will end for one reason or another and you should be prepared.

One of the ironies of retirement is that, in order for us to fully enjoy retirement, we should be healthy. The stresses of a career in the fields that this blog is aimed at take a tremendous toll. When I retired the statistics available to me at that time indicated that law enforcement retirees (the area I am most familiar with) still indicate that we on average don’t survive for more than five years after retirement, are 2-3 times more likely to contract cancer as the general population and have a life expectancy of 15-20 years less than the rest of the population. The life long effects of the physical loads we carry while working in those fields should never be underestimated either. This topic is, after all why I started writing this blog in the first place and I could write volumes on the topic and other have written volumes. So, here, I’ll just pause and say that if you do not take care of your mind and body in a mindful, purposeful fashion, unless you are quite lucky they will wear out prematurely. I suspect that it goes without saying that no matter how much of a hard charger you are, if the vessel and guidance system wear out prematurely, it will adversely impact your ability to enjoy retirement and all it potentially offers.

Finally, comes one of the things that I struggle most with. I loved being part of a team. I loved being part of something bigger than I was, dedicated to a common goal and populated by some of the finest human beings that I ever met. Three tours on my agency’s TAC (SWAT) team culminating with responsibility for the team made for some of the most challenging and rewarding work of my entire career. The people on the team, in the world of narcotics investigations (someplace I also loved working) and generally within policing were some of the finest our country has to offer. I miss them and team environment daily. This seems to be a common theme amongst warrior servants who led their jobs. Amongst the crowd that counted days until retirement and resented the profession, agency and so on, I suspect they never look back.

Within a few months of retirement I found myself standing in front of our washer and dryer with the household vacuum next to me separating laundry. Now, I don’t mind doing laundry, but the realization that under the watchful eye of my dogs, separating colors from whites and delegates from other stuff that this was now my life provided a stark contrast to team oriented tactical operations and evolving critical incidents in the field. So, what to do? I miss my team(s) and the people deeply. I missed being part of something bigger, but I was convinced that it was time to be retired. What helped me was a busy combination of the following:

1. Maintain contact with those who you care about and who are willing to maintain contact with you. Recognize that not being in the same orbit as you were before means some might not be able to keep up the contact. Thats okay. Do what you can.
2. Actively pursue multiple hobbies and pastimes. Try new things. Expand on the old. Some of this will be challenging and some of these pastimes will turn out not to be your passions. Don’t let that dissuade you. Try them anyhow. Frequently you’ll be surprised and they may also lead to new and gratifying social connections.
3. Find a part time job doing something you have a passion for or volunteer with an organization you believe in. Once you have the drive to work within a close knit team, it will likely never leave. Seek it out again and share the experience and expertise you have gained over your career. I have been very lucky in this regard and currently work in such a place.
4. Pay attention to your family in a way that was not possible while you were working full time. They deserve you being present. Most warrior servants by way of shift work, on call status, deployments etc. have missed birthdays, anniversaries, quiet times, bedtimes, and so on. Be there for them now.

As I close, I’ll remind the few who read this that retirement is just another chapter of life. there is no magic in leaving your career. If you aren’t happy or healthy while you are working, things don’t just change. Planning, preparation, mindfully approaching this new chapter with all the good information available is what the situation calls for. Be busy, but be busy doing what makes you happy and keeps you around for as long as possible for you, your family and your friends.

Stay safe and healthy fellow warrior servants. If you chase this next chapter with the same fervor you chased the last one, you will reap great dividends.

The first in a series featuring stars of the wellness world who specialize in caring for our military members and first responders.

Once in a while we all run into someone so amazing, that we instantly know they are a star in some way.  Then, as we get to know them, we realize that we were incorrect…they are in fact a super star.  Dr. Kellie O’Dare is one of those people.  Humble, gregarious and approachable, Dr. O’Dare exudes professional acumen when one first meets her and after you get to know her, it becomes quickly obvious that first impressions were incorrect.  She isn’t just talented and knowledgeable; she is supremely so.

After going to work in the wellness field, I met Dr. O’Dare.  Prior to meeting her, I heard her name mentioned in wellness circles as an expert.  After meeting with her and chatting at length, I came to the realization that in spite of her humility and a continuing desire to add to her understanding, she is an expert in the field.  Dr. O’Dare is a faculty member at Florida A and M University in the Public Health Program.  She has a PHD in social work, a master’s in public administration and a bachelors in education.  Although trained as a clinical social worker she doesn’t retain her license.  As a faculty member at FAMU, her focus is health policy and management.  Dr. O’Dare’s teaching is limited as she focuses researching service (grant work).

Dr. Kellie O’Dare is the founder of the 2^nd Alarm Project (https://2ndalarmproject.org-also in the app store).  The web site describes it in the following manner: The 2nd Alarm Project^TM, which includes Florida’s 10-4 Center for Responder Resiliency, is a nonprofit organization established to offer comprehensive, evidence-based resiliency initiatives in our first responder communities.  I might have described it as a one stop shop for all things wellness related for our first responder community.  But, Dr. O’Dare concedes that if she has a super power, it is to turn a one-page document into a three-page document.  The 2^nd Alarm Project was born out of Dr. O’Dare’s passion to help others especially within the first responder community in late 2019 and has grown in scope and importance since that time.

When I asked her where the drive to help others (especially those in our first responder community) came from, she shared that she had grown up in a fire service family (now married to a firefighter) and when she was a child, lost a close relative to a line of duty death.  Although she wanted to be a firefighter, Dr. O’Dare’s mother guided her towards college.  Now educated in the area and fueled by the memory and the first-hand experience of the trauma and grief her family experienced when she was a child, Dr. O’Dare works tirelessly to provide services to our first responder community.  In addition, Dr. O’Dare shared with me that early in her husband’s career, he responded to a couple of pediatric fatalities.  The crushing weight of those horrific events helped guide her.  Now, she works her full-time job at FAMU, runs the 2^nd Alarm Project and makes readily herself available to those within the wellness community in a nearly round the clock manner.  The operational definition of tireless I’d say.

Not content to just teach, conduct research, work on grants, administer the 2^nd Alarm Project and generally be a wellness guru and advocate within our community, Dr. O’Dare also pursues her own personal growth and spends time with her family.  She is married to a firefighter, has a teen aged son and passes what spare time she has weight lifting, camping, boating and participating in crossfit.

As I concluded a delightful interview with Dr. O’Dare over coffee, I asked her what she would like to see in the first responder community as far as wellness is concerned.  After thoughtful consideration, she replied “Evidence based initiatives to build wellness.”  That led to a brief discussion of things first responders can work on to comprehensively help build their wellness.  Dr. O’Dare spoke of resiliency, pointed me to a book (Resilience by Southwick and Charney which I subsequently purchased and highly recommend) and to courses on the topic of resiliency that The 2^nd Alarm Project and the IAFF offer.

One of the marks of a great teacher is that they can teach and you often don’t recognize that class is in session.  When I met with Dr. O’Dare, I hoped I would learn something and I most certainly did.  But, class continues to be in session for me as I continue to learn and benefit from my discussion with Dr. O’Dare, the book she recommended and the guidance she effortlessly dispenses.  She appears to epitomize resilience and professionalism while managing to be easy going and highly relatable.  The North Florida first responder community has been indelibly changed by Dr. Kellie O’Dare and is much better off for it.  Class is still in session for me and Dr. O’Dare, my boss and a few others are teaching even when they (and I) don’t realize it.  Thank you to Dr. O’Dare and the others who have the patience, expertise and passion to guide folks like me. 

Not long ago I was speaking with a friend of mine whom I know to be a compassionate person.  During the course of the conversation, I mentioned that I was going to be introducing my boss to some folks interested in bringing relaxation meditation to our place of business in the interest of the folks whom I currently serve as part of a wellness team.  This friend of mine got a horrified look on their face and exclaimed something to the effect of “You have lost your $#&%*!& mind with this!  They don’t want that.  They just need to go to work and do their job!”  Although I did initially find the comment rude and condescending, I thought about it and did not take the outburst personally, but it does warrant some “unpacking”.

To begin with, it is entirely possible (however improbable) that I have lost sight of what is important and the idea of bringing relaxation meditation to a group of overworked, highly stressed public safety communications operators is, in fact, lunacy.  Is it possible that I have lost sight of the mission and I am now too focused on “touchy feely” crapola?  After some consideration, I don’t think so.

For many years I have believed that abdication of one’s oath of office for whatever reason (laziness, fear, public sentiment etc.) is dishonorable.  That is not to say that it is dishonorable to take a break on occasion from hard charging.  That is healthy, wise and doesn’t mean that you have abandoned your oath of office.  If you take a position as a warrior servant, it should be with open eyes and a clear-headed understanding of what is expected of you.  You are to go in harm’s way. Anyone who worked with me in my previous law enforcement career was likely subjected to that opinion on numerous occasions.  Most will not be surprised that it has not wavered much.  Hiding and not doing your job (not just pulling back because you need to temporarily) is a violation of your oath of office and is dishonorable.  Period. In the case of PSCO’s, they vicariously (vicarious trauma discussed in a previous post) go in harm’s way.  Where I work, they do so on 12 hour shifts to the tune of 1,200 to 1,300 calls to our switchboard every 24 hours (with an average of 3-5 call takers per shift).  Their chain of command expects them to honorably uphold their end of the bargain, recall the vital role they play in the first responder community and keep in mind the gravity and incredible import of what they do.  In other words, they are absolutely expected to “just do their job”.  However, along with management’s expectations, and in recognition of what they do, they are provided access to a small but eager wellness team who works hard to care for them.

Wellness is kind of a “squishy” word.  It’s easy when speaking or hearing it to visualize hand holding, pacifiers and lots of “there there”.  In spite of that “squishy” feel to it, first responder wellness teams know what the real mission is.  We are there to help people who work in dangerous, stressful jobs cope with the dangers, stresses and traumas and be able to function.  If we are lucky, maybe those first responders making use of a wellness program might even benefit to the degree that they thrive, are happier and live longer for having done so.  What is the consequence of ignoring the silent hazards of the profession?  Decreased job performance, weight gain, depression, anxiety, PTSD, absenteeism, shorter life expectancy, substance abuse, shortened life expectancy and increased suicide rates to name a few.

Now, consider this; when I was a child, there were no shoulder harnesses in cars.  Most had lap belts and no one had ever heard of a child safety seat.  I dimly recall loading about twelve deep in our neighbor’s station wagon to go places.  No problem.  Now, after loads of scientific evidence, years of unnecessary carnage and death, most of us would never even consider getting into an automobile without buckling up and we damn sure buckle our little ones in the best child safety seat that we can lay our hands on.  Is that what is happening here?  Do we have members of our first responder/military/PSCO and veteran community who are stuck in the lap belt era where warrior servant mental health is concerned?

When members of our warrior servant community raise their right hand, swear an oath and go to work in these vital capacities, they enter into an agreement with the public whom they serve to go in harm’s way when called to do so.  The public and the organizations for whom they work also have a couple of vital responsibilities.  First, the organization owes the warrior servant a clear-eyed vision of the risks involved in service.  This should include not only the physical hazards, but an understanding of the psychological risks and the dangers that we are now aware of stemming from prolonged exposure to stress and trauma.  If the warrior servant is then willing to go in harm’s way, the public and the organizations have the moral responsibility to provide metaphorical shoulder harnesses, air bags, child safety seats and ABS in the way of reasonable care for the warrior servants when they are exposed to what we now know is life altering (and shortening) risks. I am lucky enough to work within an organization and among other organizations who have taken that responsibility seriously and provide for their people.

When I started in law enforcement there was a recognition of risks.  Hell, I recall my recruit group even bringing our spouses/other halves to a meeting with our agency psychiatrist so we could all discuss the risks.  That was the lap belt in the station wagon loaded with neighborhood kids.  Now we know better and therefore better is expected of us.  Merely training someone to do the job, telling them to have at it and expecting that they will “just do their jobs” is no longer realistic.  I’ll go as far as to say that it might be irresponsible and if employers were to actually try that, employees would complain bitterly that they were not supported.  I am not advocating hand holding.  If you have taken on the responsibility of going in harm’s way, then we all rely on you to do just that!  What I am saying is that with all that we have learned over the years, the mountains of science, reems of anecdotal evidence and personal stories, we also absolutely owe it to these warrior servants to make a reasonable damn effort to keep them healthy and make sure they have at least a shot at a healthy retirement from these jobs.  We lose too many to violence, illness, and suicide.

I think I’ll continue to buckle up and resist the temptation to look back at the lap belt and station wagon era with a nostalgic eye.

Dragons of myth and legend are terrifying fire breathing beasts.  For centuries they have been centerpiece in myths and legends across cultures and times.  Frequently equipped with wings and a hunger for humans, these beasts would soar about in the night and consume the innocent.  That is, until a brave soul equipped with the right weapons and tactics would step forward, engage in battle with the dragon and slay it.

These fire breathing beasts who stalked the skies and nightmares of generations of peoples across multiple cultures seems a fitting metaphor for the dragons whom we face today.  The dragons of today stalk the conscious, subconscious and dream world of many people who have experienced trauma, grief and profoundly complex life issues.  If left to themselves, the dragons propagate, and consume part of or all of the unsuspecting villager.  In recent days I have been privileged to witness real courage.  That courage was manifested in those “knights” who chose not to ignore the dragons in hopes that they won’t become the next meal, but to confront them.

It takes courage, real courage to face a physical adversary.  To know that engaging the larger, younger, better equipped physical adversary may result in your injury or death.  Moving toward the sound of gunfire, stepping into the blazing inferno in spite of the heat and fear and rescuing a child or breaching a door during the execution of a search warrant to secure a murderer and evidence for the case are just a few of the things that require courage and steadfast commitment to a cause.  But, I submit to anyone reading this that those are, in fact baby dragons.  Infants in the world of fear and predation.  The real fire breathers are the ones we don’t see.

Mark Twain said “Courage is resistance to fear, mastery of fear, not absence of fear.”  It would seem that Mr. Twain could easily have been speaking of the courage to confront our dragons.  In all things that require courage, there must be an associated cost.  Either real or perceived, but there must be a cost that scares the living shit out of most of humanity.  That cost might be death, dismemberment, severe physical harm or vulnerability when confronting truly frightening situations, grief and emotions so unsettling that we cannot understand or cope with them.  What brilliant courage it requires to face these dragons, brandish a sword or lance and move forward.  I have witnessed this recently and these acts have engendered deep and abiding respect.  

To those rare, steadfast and truly courageous folks who have faced their full-grown fire breathers recently, I am in awe.  Your movement forward with swords drawn is truly inspirational and has taught me a great deal.  My thoughts and prayers are with you.  Know also through the shining example you set, others might find inspiration and see a way forward..  May all of you emerge unscathed from the dragons lair into the sunshine and live free of the beasts.  

“I learned that courage was not the absence of fear, but the triumph over it. The brave man is not he who does not feel afraid, but he who conquers that fear.”

~Nelson Mandela

Our next treat was from the ship where we parked ourselves on the balcony outside our stateroom to watch as the captain and pilot skillfully wedged our giant ship into a fjord (Endicot Arm) that led to Glacier Bay (Daws Glacier).  The views were staggering and the fjord was positively littered with chunks of ice that ranged in size from a standard mid-sized sedan to the size of a rail car or two.  As it turned out, the water was so littered with ice chunks, the captain and pilot made the call not to run the gauntlet and get us next to the glacier.  Although disappointed we did not get to experience that, I am grateful for that decision as the idea of sitting in a lifeboat in that cold water and weather was and remains unappealing.

Our next port of call was Icy Strait Point, Alaska.  We did not have an excursion planned here, so we walked for miles and then rode a gondola up an insanely steep mountain and enjoyed a view like none other.  It was difficult to take a poor photograph in this scenic fishing town (Hoonah) and atop this mountain.

Ketchikan, Alaska was where we found ourselves next.  Like most of the communities we had visited, for years the primary source of income for residents had been fishing and fishing related and all things related to logging.  As our captain and the pilot wedged our huge ship into an inconceivably small bay, harbor and pier, we noted some dilapidated ruins of something that had once obviously been industrial immediately adjacent to our pier.  We came to find out that this entire area had once been a pulp mill that was eventually shut down by the EPA because it was polluting to such a large degree.  A consortium that included our cruise line had purchased the land after it had been cleaned up and was repurposing it.  The inside of the cruise terminal was an amazing testament to that.  Although the oversize brick had obviously been cleaned, the company left rail cars inside that had been repurposed as bathrooms, storage and, as it turns out, the exit we took with our guide to get to the van that would take us on our next hike.  This hike too would take us back into another portion of the Tongas National Forest (see previous post also regarding this hike).  Although this hike was much less strenuous that the previous one, it was beautiful, peaceful and ended at a jewel of a lake whose beauty cannot be overstated.  

After our all too quick visit to Ketchikan, the ship’s captain and pilot reversed course and backed out of the tight confines of the small inlet and mooring there.  We then eased our way to the open sea surrounded by rain shrouded Alaskan mountains that seemed to beckon us to stay longer.  But, leave we did and the ship left those mountains astern.  Our last port of call was Victoria, BC.  Although we only spent a couple of hours ashore in the evening, we found it to be spotlessly clean, beautiful and welcoming.

As with all journeys, this one eventually came to an end.  But before I conclude, I would be remiss if I failed to mention a few things that happened toward the end of our epic journey.

First, while enjoying a very tasty Alaskan beer in a lounge on board the ship, a younger couple came and sat down by us.  There was plenty of seating in the lounge, but for some reason they sat near us.  Eventually, the conversation revealed that the young man (not terribly young but quite a bit younger than I) is a warrior servant currently serving our country.  As the conversation progressed, I came to find out that he had struggled (and still was struggling but to a greatly lessor extent) with weighty issues concerning his psychological health.  This young man opened up to two strangers and detailed some of his struggles.  Out of the deepest respect for him and his companion (a survivor of domestic violence) I will not go into detail, but I found myself in awe of their courage and perseverance.  As we parted ways, I did my best to encourage them both and was overjoyed that they are both healthy and taking the opportunity to spend time with each other and recharge.  I was also once again in awe of how people are often placed in each other’s paths by pure “chance”.  What are the odds that might find ourselves spending time together on that huge ship?  I am grateful to have shared time and a cold beer with them and deeply honored that these folks felt comfortable enough to share their struggles and a few laughs with us. These two embodied resilience and I wish them the best and will pray for their continued ability to heal and thrive.

Secondly, after an exceptionally distasteful encounter with someone who should be classified as a warrior servant, I think it is important to remind anyone who managed to tough it out and read this far that if you are in a position of authority and you abuse that authority, are condescending, rude, difficult, and obnoxious simply because you can get away with it, you are not a warrior servant.  What you are quite simply…is an asshole who occupies a position that should be occupied by a warrior servant.  Yes, all get tired.  All work long hours.  All are tried by difficult people and circumstances.  And, all of us fall short on occasion (I know I did).  But when your behavior is so egregious that most folks would classify you as a disturbed bully, you should seek help and step away from your position.

Finally, as I work to understand wellness especially as it relates to warrior servants, I am beginning to understand that resilience is of vital importance.  It is of vital importance to everyone. However, if your profession takes you in harm’s way and exposes you to repeated immersion in trauma and or stress (either directly or indirectly) this thing called resilience is absolutely vital.  I am also beginning to come to grips with the idea that there are many paths to resilience.  There are many strategies that we can all use to make us more resilient, and thusly more able to rebound to a more comfortable and reasonable baseline after trauma, stress, and unforeseen life events.  One of those strategies is taking the time to care for yourself, unplug and get away from “it all”.  Sometimes you just need to sit and stare out the window of a cruise ship (or the equivalent) at epic scenery.  Sometimes you need to contemplate snow-capped peaks, migrating whales and the occasional rainbow.  Relax.  Recover.  Recharge.  By doing so, you will contribute greatly to your resilience and wellness.  In doing so, you are likely to be happier, healthier, have better relationships and live a longer, fuller life.

Thank you for spending your valuable time with me on this journey.  If you find value in what you see here at Onbeyondblue.com, please share.  

Sometimes an epic journey begins and we find ourselves completely unaware that we have struck out on the trail.  Sometimes the journey is planned for years in advance and we are well aware when, after years in the making, we have finally set out.  My career in law enforcement was an epic and amazing journey that took me places I couldn’t have imagined prior to embarking upon it.  As far as journeys go, it most certainly fell into the first category.  In. other words, I was clueless to the fact that I had begun what would become an epic journey.  Additionally, most of the time while I was on the journey, I was unaware that this great and momentous adventure was under way and would someday draw to a close.  Recently, my wife and I began a journey that falls into the second category. We headed to Alaska on a cruise.  As I began writing, we were stopped briefly in Jacksonville visiting a friend who kindly agreed to take us to the airport at some ridiculous hour.  Thus began what should be classified as a journey of epic proportions if for no other reason than the roughly 7,600 miles that it will took us (combined total of driving, flying and cruising).  Attempting to capture this journey in a short blog post seems nearly impossible, so bear with me as I cover this in two chapters.

My goal with this post is to chronicle our journey to Alaska, and in doing so share the value of allowing ourselves to rest, recharge and rebound from life and its unending challenges.  To begin with, I’m going to take a moment to address a common myth that I have heard a thousand times in the last couple of years, and even, at one point believed myself.  I can’t tell you how many times I have heard someone say a version of the following “What do you mean you are “busy”?  You are retired!”  In expressing that sentiment, those folks are sharing the idea that retirement equates to sitting still and doing nothing.  Retirement is a movement to another chapter.  If you are exceptionally lucky and have planned well, that chapter is of your own making.  It does not mean that you aren’t busy, it does mean that you are busy with what you want to be busy with.  I have a part time job with a first responder organization where I love serving.  I work with amazing people and for bosses who I greatly respect and to whom I’m dedicated.  I also have family, exercise, household responsibilities, woodworking as folks want/need items that I can make, hobbies and a blog.  My situation is not unusual.  For example, one of my best friends (blackwaterimages.com) is busier than I am.  A talented photographer, avid outdoorsman, dedicated husband, dedicated athlete and skilled handyman, this retired cop also maintains two houses, does maintenance at an apartment complex, builds wheelchair ramps for the disadvantaged, and maintains lawns.  He makes me look positively lazy.  But he is busy because he wants to be busy and is busy doing what he wants to do.  He also takes the time to recharge.  He cycles, swims, kayaks, skis, hikes and loves to camp.

I have not always been disciplined enough to take the time to recharge and rebound.  I was the guy who didn’t burn enough leave time so I was perpetually in a “use it or lose it” situation at work.  If I was away from work, I rarely disengaged (especially in the later part of my career).  I always had my phone, always kept up with what was going on and frequently found myself reading and responding to work email while away from work.  None of that was good for me. I have however finally reached the point in my life where I recognize that fact.  I also recognize that if you love what you do, are driven, dedicated and involved, in this world of hyper-connectivity it is profoundly difficult to disconnect.  But disconnecting is vital to recharging and rebounding (resilience).  I am now learning (thanks to the patience of my boss and Dr. O’Dare-blog interview forthcoming) about resilience.  One of the things I have gleaned so far is that we should approach resilience in a mindful, intentional and purposeful manner.  That means everyone, especially warrior servants should build times into their lives that focus on recharging and rebounding from life’s challenges, stresses and daily drudgeries.  Periodically we should all consider some sort of epic journey that transports us from our daily routine, scenery and comfort zone.  Plan recharging that ranges from routine to epic.  But, take care to plan something and do some self-care.  Doing this can help make us more resilient people and therefore lead to healthier lives and retirements.

The first leg of this epic journey was driving.  It was marked by an uneventful lope down Interstate 10 and into the Jacksonville metropolitan area.  We spent a relaxing day and two nights (well one and a half) with a dear friend who kindly agreed to drive us to the airport at the obscene hour of 3:00am.  Of course, that meant we were awake, well, at least vertical well before that time.  What followed was an awful and arduous leg of the journey.  Baggage check.  TSA.  Wait.  Wait some more.  Board aircraft.  Wait.  Fly to Atlanta.  Wait.  Board aircraft.  Squeeze into a middle seat too small for an average adult.  Wait.  Fly to Seattle.  At the end of my endurance, finally get extricated from my tiny, cramped perch.  Baggage claim.  Find the cruise transportation official and get vague instructions.  Wait. Wait even longer.  What is this?  Why do they seem incredibly disorganized and scattered?  Finally.  Board shuttle to port.  No, wait…too many people for this shuttle.  They counted wrong.  Wait some more.  More confusion.  Finally.  Our shuttle.  On to the port.  I’m hungry.  I’m sleep deprived.  Arrive at port.  Security.  Papers…finally!  Board the ship!  Wait?  Where are our bags?  They arrive piecemeal over the next three hours.  The bag containing my camera gear being the last to arrive and thusly briefly convincing me that it was lost.  Finally…payoff.  We are under way.  I suppose in hindsight that I might find myself appreciating the wonderous splendor of the Alaskan wildlands even more after some travel adversity.  Although that may be true, I could have done without any of it. 

Our cruise was booked with Norwegian on the Bliss.  Everything about this ship was grand.  Very large and well-appointed it was well suited for a trek through the fjords to this land of rugged beauty.  There are large numbers of excellent viewing opportunities inside and on the decks of this grand ship.  Spacious enough so that passengers don’t trip over each other and amenities that should be engaging for most people while at sea.  After we found food, had a refreshing beverage and got settled in our pleasant cabin, we discussed our long-awaited shore excursions.  When not contemplating going ashore or actually ashore, we spent the vast majority of our time gazing out the spacious windows at breathtaking scenery.  It seemed as though even the longer stints at sea held our attention with migrating whales, captivating vistas and fiery sunsets.

Our first trip ashore found us in Sitka, Alaska.  The morning was breathtakingly clear, sunny and brisk.  We piled aboard a large catamaran for whale and otter watching.  Surrounded by snowcapped mountains that seems to drop directly off into a sun kissed bay, we were not disappointed and were treated to multiple mother/baby humpback sightings and a few grey whale sightings.    Before heading back ashore, we caught sight of a large group of sea otters.  Even with my long lens, we were forced to stay far enough away so that the pictures were not excellent, but all certainly captured our hearts as well as those who remained on deck (quite cold by that time).  

We bid goodbye to the whales and otters and came ashore to be whisked off to a bear rescue facility and a raptor sanctuary.  Both offered unparalleled opportunities to see and photograph these majestic animals safely while at a distance that made for exquisite photographs.  Of all the places we visited on this trip, the city of Sitka was the most beautiful, clean, picturesque of the entire trip.  Clearly still a functional working town, it has also adapted to the influx of cruise ship tourists without losing its heart and soul.  And we could not have been there on a more beautiful day.

When next we made port, it was Juneau.  Our excursion was a hike here and started fairly early in the morning.  As flatlanders from the lowest of the lower 48, we took care to dress in accordance with the 38-degree rainy conditions.  Then we left the shift in search of our excursion which consisted of a hike to the Mendenhall Glacier.  Our guide for the hike was an insightful, bright and capable young man named Max.  He kept a solid pace while not overworking folks like me and pausing to provide us relevant and interesting information about the Tongas National Forest.  This temperate rain forest lived up to its title as a rain forest.  It rained or sleeted on us most of the way through this strenuous hike.  But, that did not detract in any way from the other worldly sights in the forest.  The forest floor was carpeted with mosses, fallen trees, skunk cabbage and a wide assortment of conifers.  It was tattooed with creeks and streams that fed waterfalls and lakes.  Multiple times we topped out on ridges and were treated to the type of breathtaking vistas that grace the front of postcards and creep into the imagination after a good book.  When we finally reached the peak where we overlooked what is left of the glacier, the view was breathtaking and inspirational.  More than worth the time, expense and trouble to climb to that point.  I only wish we had been able to linger before making the trek back down the mountain in the sleet.

To be continued.

I realize that just introducing the idea of Forest Bathing (shinrin-yoku) to my intended audience will likely induce groans and eye rolling.  Knowing that, I’ll keep this short and save lengthier efforts for other topics.  But, if you have made it this far, all I ask is that you stick with me, entertain the idea openly, and try your own version of this when possible.  You never know, it might fit well in your wellness tool kit.

Forest Bathing apparently originated in Japan.  The idea is fairly straightforward and was brought to my attention by an astute coworker not long ago.  Although many of us have recognized for years that time spent outside and especially in the woods made us feel better, there has been a rising body of scientific evidence supporting the idea and indicating that time in the woods exceeding twenty minutes reduces symptoms of depression, reduces anxiety, lowers cortisol, lowers stress, lowers blood pressure and increased an overall sense of wellness.  The Japanese built on that science and began leading quiet guided walks in the forest that included a picturesque, quiet and secluded resting point.  Here, the person engaging in ”bathing” would pause, and meditate quietly while taking in the sights, sounds and smells of the forest.  Participants report at minimum a feeling of relaxation and, when everything comes together heightened sense of wellness with the measurable effects mentioned above.

Recently while visiting Alaska, I had the opportunity to hike in the Tongass National Forest.  This great expanse of temperate rain forest includes a small, picturesque lake in the middle of what used to be a heavily logged area called Talbot Lake.  After about two miles of easy hiking down a two-rut road surrounded by the sights and sounds of the Alaskan wilderness while our guide narrated the hike, we reached this breathtaking gem.  The small group that I was with seemed to recognize that we were somewhere special and while our attentive guides bustled about preparing a fire and some hot chocolate, we quietly soaked in the stunning vision of the glassy lake and mist covered mountains.  While we basked in the visually stunning landscape, we were serenaded by cheerful songbirds who were undeterred by the cool, damp morning.  I sat on a stump of local Sitka Spruce and just breathed and listened.  Already relaxed from the serene and supremely stunning hike there, I purposefully slowed my breathing and cleared my mind.  As I did so, I became aware of everything slowing and quieting.  Finally, all I heard was the quiet chatter of my fellow hikers, the chittering of the songbirds, and I was completely and absolutely quiet and at peace. 

I’m including some photos of the lake and surrounding rain forest.  The landscape was staggeringly beautiful and serene and I seriously doubt any photograph will come close to doing it justice.  

I heartily encourage all to find a friend and find an hour or so to take to some woods near you.  Disconnect from your daily life.  Turn your phone off, ignore email for a few minutes, leave social media behind long enough to actually disconnect briefly and go “bathe” in what God has generously placed all around us.  Attempt to find a companion for your walk who can quietly narrate your walk, but who understands why you are there and will allow you to sit quietly when you reach your destination.  If you can practice rhythmic breathing and meditate once you reach your serene destination…even better.  Forest Bathing may not be for everyone, but it works and is a readily available tool for most.  It is also simple and straightforward.  And, best of all, it is accessible to most people regardless of where you live or what your income is.  If you go, be safe, be prepared (sunscreen, insect repellant etc.) and be well. 

See also National Library of Medicine study 2010

A short while ago, I wrote a blog titled “Life After Service”. In that post, I mentioned making sure we all have sustainable and diversified healthy pursuits and focused some on some warrior servants who pursue photography as a healthy pursuit. Over the last few years I too have revisited this hobby. I suppose that I come by it somewhat naturally. I literally grew up in my professional photographer father’s darkroom watching him work and with his work all around us. In the last few years of my career, I picked up the hobby, and annoyed most everyone around me at work by taking thousands of pictures. In the mean time, I also took up woodworking, triathlon, and camping. I pursued all with the passion, intensity and the fervor I may have once been known for. Of those pastimes, if I had to pick just one that nourished and sustained me the most, it was and is triathlon.

I came to understand that triathlon is a generic term that describes the multi-sport endeavor that consists of swimming, cycling, and running. The distances can range from short (sprint distance) to simply all day (140.6 miles and longer). I love the challenge of training, the camaraderie, the thrill of the race, goal setting, and the profound sense of accomplishment. The sport has drawn me closer to my wife (she is quite talented-I am not) gotten me out exercising in a healthy manner and given me mountains to climb of whatever height I thought I could manage. I have competed all over the south eastern United States in races that ranged from sprint to Olympic and finally a couple 70.3 mile races for years. Now, what seemed sustainable is in question.

Loss-noun. The fact or process of losing something or someone.

I have come to realize that loss can be experienced in many different ways. Some things are more obvious such as the frustration and anxiety I have experienced from the loss of my keys, the crushing and weighty grief from losing a friend and the unique sadness that dog lovers feel at the passing of a canine family member. But alas, now I am beginning to experience another kind of loss. Over the last three to four years, I have been troubled by a relatively minor, yet persistent orthopedic injury that has slowly, insidiously, increased in intensity preventing me from training to the level I like to train. Finally, during a recent doctor’s visit, the doctor kindly and quietly suggested that “Father Time” may have overtaken me in this regard and triathlon in the manner in which I like to compete, may therefore be a thing of the past.

Before I go any further, lest someone misunderstand, I do not want sympathy or pats on the back. What I do want, is to take this time to point out the value of having a variety of sustainable pursuits, contingency plans and contingency plans for our contingency plans (weren’t we all trained that way anyhow?). Once I realized that I was experiencing a real sense of loss and was depressed at the prospect of “Father Time” kicking my pastime to the curb, I felt led to share so others might evaluate their own sustainable healthy pursuits. I recognize that I have been blessed to have been able to train, compete and participate in this sport (and I encourage others to do so) and I recognize that my physical limitations are quite minor in comparison to others.

So, why prattle on about it then? The simple answer is that having these other hobbies/pastimes/pursuits has helped me through what has been a surprisingly tough time. Knowing this in an academic way and experiencing it first hand are wholly different experiences. I’m living it now and grateful that I have other interests to pursue. Please find sustainable and healthy pastimes that engage you, get you out of your comfort zone, away from the office and go after them. Try new stuff. Expect that some of your “go to” pastimes will not last, and expect that you will probably not be very happy about it.

As a group, active duty military, veterans, first responders and PSCOs plan contingencies in their sleep. Contingencies for life altering, vast and complex situations and daily simple situations. So why is it that we (I) have a tough time seeing the need to plan in the same way for ourselves. The answer from me is that I don’t know. But, now more than ever, I recognize that being active, engaged, learning new things, goal setting and achieving goals is absolutely essential to healthy living. Therefore, being prepared when your version of triathlon grinds to a halt for some reason is equally essential. Dealing with your sense of loss when the time comes will be so much easier if you have multiple pursuits to fall back on. Take it from the guy who just learned (again) the difference between academic understanding and real life experience.

As I have worked on this blog, I have worked hard to make sure the content is relevant, recent, and of a quality that encourages readers to read, follow, share and return. While researching and writing this post, I worked harder than ever. I labored to collect information that filled the categories I mentioned above, but harder even to honor the courage of the man who I now feature in this blog. He was courageous enough to become a firefighter and serve his community, to enlist in the military and serve his country, to care for the wounded here at home and on the battlefield and now he has been courageous enough to talk about his struggle and journey with PTSD. This man, my friend is (lieutenant/Chief) Michael Terhune. Having worked with Mike, I know him to epitomize the Warrior Servant.

Before I start chronicling Mike’s journey, I wanted to briefly address a few things; 1. I am not a veteran. I am dedicating myself to learning military language, structure, command, rank, and protocol so that these wellness topics might be as relevant as possible to our military brothers and sisters. However, if I make mistakes, those mistakes come from a genuine place of respect. 2. The purpose of this post is to inform and share. I will avoid making editorial statements about any actions or inactions on the part of any entities, or speaking in clinical terms about any psychology. I am not in a position to do either with any credibility. Instead, I will tell Mike’s story to the best of my ability. I’ll tell you where he started, how his journey progressed and where he is now with the goal of allowing the reader to derive lessons learned, self reflect and reach conclusions on the topic. 3. According to the US Department of Veterans Affairs, the number one and number two cause of death among veterans is heart disease and suicide. 4. Lastly, if, as you read through Mike’s struggle and journey, you see yourself in the story…reach out. Reach out now. I’ll provide vetted links at the conclusion of the story.

The first few paragraphs of this story are a highly condensed background/biography that is necessary to set up critical events during this journey of service and eventually PTSD. The young Mike Terhune was like many of us. Unsure of what he wanted to do for a living, he was attending college and working at Publix. In 1990 Mike began his career in the fire service by attending the local fire academy. Following his completion of the fire academy, he enlisted the the United States Coast Guard. During boot camp, Mike was appointed Recruit Commander and was an honor graduate of boot camp. These honors would foreshadow leadership later in his life and career. By this time, Mike was fully committed to getting hired at the Tallahassee Fire Department and when he was not working at Publix, with the Coast Guard, or as a reserve firefighter he was filling out fire department applications and getting certified as an EMT and eventually a paramedic.

1995 was a big year for Mike. It was in 1995 that Mike was hired full time by the Tallahassee Fire Department and also when he enlisted in the Navy. Like many in our line of work, he passed the time when he was not working by running, working out and riding jet skis whenever possible. 1995 also marked the first time he experienced a disturbance of any kind. Shortly after starting as a full time firefighter, fellow firefighters reported to Mike that he was having “night terrors”, sleep walking and talking to them while he was sleep walking. No one thought much of it, and as is the case with all of us on occasion, fellow firefighters light heartedly joked about it and it faded into firehouse lore. When I paused here to inquire more about the circumstances surrounding these nighttime incidents, Mike was unable to recall any single trauma or series of incidents at that time aside from the usual calls for service for the fire department. This was likely the first warning bell.

As an enlisted man in the US Naval Reserve, Mike was an E4 (3rd Class Petty Officer), attended and completed HM3 (Hospital Corpsman) and was assigned to support Marine Corps personnel. He devoted himself to his assignment and to caring for others. Over the next couple of years, he was promoted to driver at the Fire Department, continued his service and training with the Navy and assumed as many responsibilities with the Fire Department as he was able. The Navy assigned Mike to the 3rd Force Recon. This assignment meant a substantial amount of training over and above what he had to this point and included but was not limited to Jump School and Dive School.

In 2003 Petty Officer Second Class Michael Terhune woke up and found himself being deployed to Camp Coyote Kuwait. This was his first combat deployment and the young corpsman had looked forward to the challenges, trained hard and did everything a person could do to prepare to serve his country and fellow soldiers, sailors and Marines. Mike spent about six months at Camp Coyote helping to set up the facility and then went on to work in the battlefield hospital. The hospital treated all types of battlefield trauma including but not limited to gunshot wounds, amputations, blast trauma, and dehydration. When pressed a little about the nature of the casualties, Mike described them as “major trauma casualties”.

After his duties in Camp Coyote, Mike returned home with no notable problems and continued to pursue his career in fire service. In 2007, the newlywed volunteered for another deployment and was assigned to 4th Force Recon as an E6 (Petty Officer First Class/Company Corpsman). This assignment eventually found him deployed in Fallujah Iraq. Mike’s responsibilities as a Company Corpsman meant that he was supervising other corpsman, deploying with the Marines, fighting with the Marines and rendering aid as a corpsman. This deployment was in the vast Saladin Governorate which at that time was loaded with the enemy, physical hazards of all kinds and exacerbated by environmental hazards such as scorching heat. Contact with the enemy happened during his deployment and included an IED detonating right in front of him, damaging the vehicle in front of him and injuring people in that vehicle. In 2008, Marine Sgt. Michael Ferschke was killed in action. Terhune knew him and was aware of his death.

January of 2009 saw Mike return stateside and begin his demobilization. By this time, he had contracted a rare infection called Leishmaniasis. Mike was forced to strongly self advocate for treatment and was eventually sent to Walter Reed for treatment that turned out to be rather unpleasant and lengthy. When he finished treatment, he joyfully returned to his home town, wife, family and friends. The return was uplifting, overwhelming and primarily positive. But, eventually the activity and interaction began to subside. Mike wasn’t back at work as a firefighter yet and there was quiet in his life. It was here that the second warning bell rang and rang loudly. In this quiet, fresh from the chaos of Iraq, treatment for his Leishmaniasis and demob. Mike began hearing things that weren’t there. He began flinching in the car as his wife drove him places. He became irritable, easily frustrated and experienced a sense of profound uselessness and despair associated with routine frustrations such as being unable to help a child with math homework.

As most of us would surmise, this made life incredibly unpleasant, relationships difficult and added to the already deep sense of despair he was feeling. Eventually, things came to a head at home and Mike’s wife urged him to seek help. Although initially hesitant, Mike did seek help at the VA and that began what would amount to over a decade of counseling. Counseling, vigorous exercise and a monumental effort from Mike, family and friends found him stabilized, on track at home and at work and moving forward until 2020.

However, there were peaks and valleys along the way for Mike. He was promoted to lieutenant and assigned a prestigious position in his agency called “Fire Med One”. Peak. In this position, he responded to major incidents one right after the other all over the county. Crimes with medical trauma, car crashes, traumatic injuries, and deaths. In 2010, Mike was working in his position of Fire Med One and responded to a crash (car vs. pedestrian) adjacent to his fire station. In that crash, the daughter of a coworker (the pedestrian) had been hit by a car and was killed. Mike was on scene and had the exceptionally unpleasant and overall rotten task of pronouncing her deceased. That day, he continued working after that incident and continued to respond to critical incidents for some time. Eventually, he returned to the fire house for a critical incident stress debrief (CISD). Although well intentioned, Mike describes the CISD as run by outsiders and ineffective. In the aftermath, two firefighters quit. Valley. During this time, Mike also returned to the Medic Team for his local police department TAC (SWAT) team in the position of team leader. Peak.

Mike served in the Navy Reserve until 2015 when he retired at the rank of E7 (Chief).

By the time 2020 rolled around a series of things took place that can only be called a giant, ominous, third warning bell ringing. To begin with, Lieutenant/Chief Terhune lost a marine and friend with whom he served to suicide. Proximal to that, he retired from the fire department. Within five months of retirement, Mike found himself standing on his back porch with his pistol intending to kill himself. In part, what blessedly brought him back from the ledge was seeing the bracelet he was wearing at the time with his friend’s name on it as he held his pistol.

If you made it to this part of Mike’s story, thank you. The good news is that Mike is well, able to openly discuss his journey and adamant that he wants to help others through the telling of his story and in other ways. This is a good time to point some things out. First, as far as the big picture goes, Mike certainly had his share of direct trauma over the years. But, to say that he had a boat load of vicarious trauma, barely begins to describe what he experienced. Secondly, after losing his friend to suicide and another marine who was KIA, he experienced profound, crippling guilt. When I inquired as to why that was, he simply stated “I was their medic” thereby explaining that he felt responsible for taking care of them. Lastly, in the lead up to planning and nearly carrying out his own suicide, he experienced crushing hopelessness, uselessness and overpowering emptiness in the quiet of retirement. The lack of mission, structure and team were all part of what contributed to those feelings. Some of you reading this who are still not within sight of retirement may wonder why I mention this last part. Well, it is for two reasons; partly because it is part of what led Mike to the edge of the cliff and partly because I suspect a large number of warrior servants experience that same sense of loss when separated from mission, structure and team.

As I wind down this story it is worth mentioning that within a day or so of having been to the edge of that cliff, Mike was walking near where he lives. On that walk, by pure chance, he bumped into one of the most prominent advocates for first responder mental health…Dr. Kellie O’Dare (see 2nd Alarm link below). She greeted him and asked how he was doing. Mike responded honestly and the two had spontaneous dialog right there in the street that was part of what helped get him pointed in a healthier direction. I spent too long doing what I did for a living to believe in coincidences like this. God does bless warrior servants. Sometimes those blessings are obvious like this one and sometimes they are quieter blessings that may go unnoticed.

In conclusion, I hope any warrior servants who read through Mike’s journey pause to take the time to consider what I have chronicled here. Mull over his career, the warning bells (individual incidents and the totality) and ask yourselves if you have experienced any of these. Also know that Mike did not self medicate in any way and led what should be considered a healthy lifestyle that was loaded with exercise, engagement, supportive family, counseling and first hand knowledge of the gravity of the situation. With all this, he still found himself standing on the edge of the cliff and staring over into the abyss. After a life of service, you deserve to be happy, healthy, vital and you deserve to enjoy the next chapter. If you see yourself in between the lines here, reach out and take the steps you need to take in order to be happy, healthy and vital in that next chapter.

Vetted resources for you:

• Safe Call Now – Safe Call Now is a confidential, 24/7 crisis referral service for all public safety employees, emergency services personnel and their family members.
  • Call (206) 459-3020.
  • Redline Rescue – Red Line Rescue provides trained Peer Support and licensed clinicians to first responders. Redline Rescue is dedicated to the mission of serving firefighters and their families in times of need.
  • 2^nd Alarm Project – The 2nd Alarm Project, funded by SAMHSA, offers behavioral health resources to firefighters (career, volunteer and retirees) and fire departments across the Florida Panhandle.Schedule free counseling here.
  • UCF Restores – UCF Restores is a nonprofit clinical research center and treatment clinic established to change the way post-traumatic stress disorder (PTSD) and other trauma-related concerns are understood, diagnosed and treated.To learn more about UCF Restores services, call (407) 823-3910. Those interested in the UCF Restores Single-Session Consultation Program can call (407) 823-1657
  • Veterans Crisis Hotline 800-273-8255

I am deeply grateful for Lieutenant/Chief Terhune’s friendship, openness, service and continued caring for his fellow human beings. https://teamguardian.net. If you want to contact Mike, you can email him at Ter1max@aol.com.

Somewhere on the planet it is early in the morning. As an embattled city awakes, a squad of American soldiers pick their way carefully through a debris cluttered street taking care to watch for furtive movements, unusual objects beside the road and anything and everything that might be considered a threat. Their boots crunch on broken bricks and glass and although the sun has only risen a few minutes ago, the temperature is already stifling. The soldiers sweep their areas of responsibility with their rifles deliberately as they move looking high and low for a heretofore unseen enemy. They walk where no one else wants to walk. They walk there because their country has asked them to walk there, because of duty, because humans suffer if they do not walk there. They are all that stands in between the oppressed and oppressor and probably most importantly, because in spite of the danger, the physical and mental strain, they walk there because they are willing to walk there when few others are willing.

A category four hurricane looms in the Gulf of Mexico. The RADAR image shows the massive storm occupies most of the shallow, warm body of water as it grinds its way toward landfall. Most people who can evacuate have done so. Grocery store shelves are empty. Streets are empty. The outer bands have brought wind, rain and a howling noise that portends a darker time. Power blinks out all over the area and its now too dangerous for the power crews to even attempt to restore power. While all this is going on, a group of people are setting up tents and hammocks in their place of business. Their families far away. Sleeping bags are rolled out and folding chairs set here and there. These folks are here for the duration in spite of maelstrom. They are your PSCO (Public Safety Communications Operators). They are camped out because once the beast has passed, most are aware they won’t be able to move much less come to work and their sense of duty has brought them into the makeshift campground so that they can help care for the community through the raging storm and after it subsides.

It’s a few days before Christmas and it’s cold out. At this early hour of the morning in this frigid weather, little moves with the exception of the men and women in bunker gear leaping from their vehicles. The house they are in front of has thirty foot flames and oily black smoke shooting from the living room window. The din is incredible. The fire roars, firefighters shout to each other to be heard over the noise while neighbors watch in horror. Most of the family is huddled together across the street bundled in blankets and as they recover from the shock, one of the parents frantically reports to a firefighter that their toddler and dog are still inside the house. Instantly, and without a second thought the duty driven firefighters spring into action and go where no other person would or could go…into the fire. As sirens blare in the distance, a window shatters on the side of the house and the smoke parts enough to reveal firefighters hand a small boy and the terrified family dog to their partners outside the inferno.

Somewhere in the United States, it is a busy day for the officers working on patrol. There aren’t enough of them to answer the high volume of crashes, burglaries, shoplifting incidents, and other miscellaneous calls for service. Then when the city seems to pause and take a breath, police radios all over the jurisdiction sound with an emergency tone “Shots fired! Subjects down”. and officers are directed to local elementary school. These officers, some of whom are parents, all turn their cars and hurtle toward the gunfire. Thats right, they do the unthinkable and move to the sound of gunfire. When they arrive, without hesitation a small team drives into the school stepping around a bleeding teacher in the hallway, consumed with their duty to drive to the threat and neutralize the threat or…refocus that threat on them instead on teachers and children.

Author Michael D. Janich describes the warrior as well or better as any other. He says: “And although we may do our best to avoid trouble, sometimes trouble insists on finding us. When that happens, when the time for talk is over, warriors act. They flip the switch and act decisively-ruthlessly if necessary-to preserve and defend the things that they hold dear. And when the fight is over, they turn off the switch and continue to cherish the things they valued enough to defend. That’s what makes them warriors. And that’s what makes them the good guys.” Well said Mr. Janich. Well said. The only thing I would add is that warriors flip the switch to act decisively to preserve and defend the things that they and others hold dear. The warrior mentality is not inherently violent. It is not inherently cruel or indifferent, callous or craven or dominated by hubris. Warriors are instead a rare breed of human who are willing to step into the gap when they are needed most for the greater good. Then, after the need has abated as Janich stated, they flip the switch and blend into the crowd fading away with their arm wrapped around their spouse and holding their child’s hand walking away cherishing what they and others hold dear.

So what of the “servant” portion of the term warrior servant? Author James P. Owen in part describes duty as the responsibility to something larger than one’s self, a willingness to sacrifice self interest and doing what has to be done. In his book “Cowboy Values” he speculates: “Without question or complaint, he (the cowboy) puts duty first. Why else would someone go out into a blizzard to rescue a calf that doesn’t even belong to him?” Is it possible that the answer to this question is because the cowboy in question has the heart of a servant? What about those soldiers, firefighters, PSCO’s and law enforcement officers mentioned above? Pause a moment to consider that in all of these professions and many more that fall into the “warrior servant” category spend most of their days with the “switch” as Janich calls it flipped into the servant position. Somewhere in that same beleaguered city where the soldiers patrol, a soldier in heavy vest and a rifle plate has slung his rifle and is giving a kid a candy bar. Somewhere a firefighter is taking the blood pressure of a citizen that has walked into the fire house and afterward, gives their children a tour of the fire apparatus. While that is happening, a PSCO is taking up a donation for a child orphaned by an act of violence that the PSCO had the horrifying experience of witnessing over the phone. A police officer comforts the mother of a child that died in a crash, another screws in a light bulb on the front porch of an elderly widow who lives by herself in a high crime area, while yet another officer listens to and comforts a mother whose child has descended to addiction. There are hundreds of thousands of stories like these that illustrate the servant side of the flipped switch. Yet somehow, these amazing and oft maligned people are thankfully able to flip the switch back when needed for the rest of us.

These warrior servants are the glue that holds our fragile world together. They are called to do what they do, and although many cannot explain how they were led to the calling they concede that it is a calling. Vast numbers of these warrior servants pursue their calling at great peril, be that physical peril or psychological or the perfect storm of both. These risks go unimagined by those whom they serve and mostly without recognition. In that light, it is worth my time to write about them and your time to read about just exactly who these unsung heroes are.

Additionally, it is worth closing with a final thought. The term “warrior” as it relates to first responders has taken a beating in recent years. And while a small percentage of these beatings are well deserved, warrior servants must always stand at the ready for that moment when the wolf arrives on our doorstep, your doorstep. The warrior servant must not, cannot, ever succumb to the belief that those whom we/they serve are the enemy. Yes, it is a difficult line to walk when one must always remain on high alert, when one is subjected to repeated and tragic traumas, but a true warrior servant always remembers why they are there, the love for those whom they serve and the principles that brought them to service in the first place. True warrior servants are men and women of peace who only throw the “switch” Janich refers to out of absolute necessity and once the necessity has passed, throw the switch the other way and fade into the crowd indiscernible from any other citizen. Our wellness as a society depends on our warrior servants and the wellness of the warrior servant depends absolutely on the confidence of the people for whom they serve and making sure they never forget that most of what they do is on the servant side of the “switch”. All the while staying fit and resilient enough to bring it when the wolf arrives and duty requires a warrior. It is my fervent hope that none who read this ever have an encounter with a “wolf” on their doorstep, but if you do, it is my equally fervent hope that a healthy, resilient warrior servant is around to step between you and that wolf.

People sleep peaceably in their beds at night only because rough men stand ready to do violence on their behalf. George Orwell

If anyone in my orbit discussed retirement with me in the early stages of my career, I don’t recall it. If they did, I’m sure I was too driven, too short sighted, and too focused on my mission at the time to pay any attention what so ever to a discussion that focused on a topic that seemed so far off. The next arrest, the next case, the next school, the next position, family and so on were plenty to occupy my young mind. Im sure that more than a few folks who are reading this can identify with that. Retirement was a long way off and the topic was one reserved for “dinosaurs”. During that same time period, I recall hearing the phrase on more than one occasion during training “prior planning prevents piss poor performance” as it related to training, tactics and interactions with the public. It took me a long time to understand that the overused phrase has relevance to the last chapters of our career and the transition into retirement.

At some point during my career, I stumbled upon some healthy pursuits that still invigorate me today. Through years of conversations with other warrior servants, it is apparent to me that my experience of stumbling upon those pursuits is not unique. With that in mind, I want to devote some time, energy and space on this blog to mindfully, with purpose and devotion to task, exploring healthy pursuits (plural) that will sustain and invigorate you beyond your years of service. As I share these, readers should be concious that I speak of these things from the stumbling point of view. Trial, error, disappointment, discovery, and delight were and are the way things went and still go. I won’t and can’t preach because the few things I’ve learned about this topic have taken a long time to learn and came about in part because of the great example my parents, family, and some amazing friends set for me. These folks helped show me the way. My hope here is to provide insights and examples so that anyone reading this doesn’t stumble in the same fashion that I did. In other words, my hope is to pay it forward and make things easier for other warrior servants.

In the twenty first century, I have heard the word”sustainable” spoken so many times that hearing it brings on waves of nausea. So it is with caution and some trepidation that I use that very word in this blog. Sustainable. When it comes to healthy pursuits, some at least need to be sustainable. Seize opportunities to participate in things that are primarily available to the younger and more physically capable. Step up to the buffet of life and sample pastimes that appeal to you. However, as you sample these pastimes, it is to your benefit to mindfully select some that are sustainable. One can be a powerlifter, rock climber, flag football enthusiast and so on as a younger person. And, while there are older people who continue on in these endeavors, they become less and less feasible for most people. With that in mind, having healthy pursuits that are sustainable that overlap with the more vigorous, youth oriented pursuits is wise. As our ability to participate in some of the pursuits we were so fond of in youth wanes, the sustainable pursuits are there, thus leaving no gap. Without gaps, it becomes less likely we will find ourselves adrift and tempted to pass the time with unhealthy pursuits.

When considering this topic, I have found it helpful to remember something that I taught when I was teaching officer survival. I am referring to the “survival pyramid”. The survival pyramid (not my invention by any means) consists of physical fitness, mental fitness and spiritual fitness. For the pyramid to be intact, the warrior servant should have all three corners in solid shape. In other words, feed your mind, feed your body, and feed your soul. If we seek sustainable healthy pursuits that nourish all of these areas, it is more likely that we will be healthy and fulfilled for the long term no matter what trauma or obstacles we may confront along the way. And, after all isn’t this our goal? This is a good time to remind myself and anyone reading this that if we don’t take care of ourselves, we aren’t much good to those who we love and who depend on us.

One of the healthy pursuits that I stumbled on along the way to where I am now is photography. Although I literally grew up in and out of my father’s darkroom, I only dabbled in it until the digital age was upon us. At that moment, I found myself thrust into administering a digital camera project at my agency. The cameras we used were Sony Mavicas that had a resolution of about a half a megapixel and saved their images to a floppy disk. Although it seems ridiculous from our vantage point now, they were good hardware at the time. As I immersed myself in administering this project, I rediscovered photography. Off duty, I began to dabble more and took a lot of family pictures. Then, my oldest son began to take a serious interest and got some tutoring from Dave Ferrell and my father. Eventually, my son became an exceptionally skilled professional photographer. As such, he could no longer tolerate my use of point and shoot digital cameras and conspired with my wife to get me my first DSLR. A camera I now regularly use and thoroughly enjoy.

Some might wonder what it is was and is about the hobby of photography that I find fulfilling. Although I began in this hobby from a purely pragmatic perspective, taking pictures of coworkers and family, I rapidly progressed to something well beyond pragmatic. I find something magical about looking at the world as though I had a camera in my hands. It forces me to take time time admire beauty, capture poignant moments in time, and stitch together stories with those moments captured. I am arguably not very good, but it doesn’t matter. Photography forces me to see beauty, capture it and doing so is immensely satisfying and enjoyable. All the while distracting me from events of the day (be they work or otherwise).

There are quite a few warrior servants for whom photography has become a passion and who, when they wield a camera capture beauty, excitement and are capable of telling stories with the click of a shutter. Here a few I would like to profile:

David Ferrell is a retired police sergeant. He served his community for well in excess of a quarter century. His assignments were many but included multiple stints in narcotics, over twenty years as an Entry operator on his agency’s tactical (SWAT) team and lengthy tours of duty on the agency’s community policing squad. I am lucky enough to count him as a friend and a mentor.

David recounts that he started photography as a “crazy fluke opportunity”. This fluke, took him to the sidelines of professional football, photographing NASCAR legend Dale Earnhardt and many other exciting places. His images have graced the pages of Sports Illustrated and hometown newspapers alike. Although primarily self taught, he had plenty of mentors in this field who helped him refine his craft. He describes photography in the following manner; “Photography took me away from my day job…it provided me an outlet to be creative and challenge myself with something aside from chasing bad guys”. “Photography was like shooting my bow, when I was doing those things, I thought of nothing else”. David describes photography as fun and a great way to memorialize moments with friends, family and moments in sports. He finds photography challenging, fulfilling, exciting and rewarding. David now primarily shoots for his blog (https://black-water-images.com) and he encourages anyone with any interest in photography to “go for it!”.

Marcus Johnson is a talented police officer whose assignments have included criminal investigations and SWAT. He is currently working on his law degree and still pursues photography as a hobby.

Marcus began taking pictures to give his mind a break from law enforcement when off duty and photography appealed to him in part at least because it “…generally speaking, had nothing to do with law enforcement”. He is self taught and his work can be viewed at Instagram.com/JohnHancockSignaturePhoto.

Photos by Scott Westbrook

I am deeply grateful to know and have served with Scott. He was a genuinely kind, compassionate and highly skilled warrior servant. His story is one of bravery, pain, perseverance, and ultimately triumph that we can all learn from. In Scott’s own words:

I am not much of a writer.  I do, however, believe in paying forward.  Mental health has long been a taboo subject within the public safety community.  Everyone in the community knows of someone, if not knowing them directly, that has fallen due to suicide.  PTSD is present in Fire, EMS, Public Safety Communications, and law enforcement with a higher frequency than the general public.  Many more are known to deal with decreased job performance, physical ailments, substance abuse, etc.  This is a brief overview of my mental health journey.

My exposure to traumatic events started well before my law enforcement career.  My mother was killed in a crash with a drunk driver when I was 8.  When I was 10, I watched our puppy get run over.  Fast forward to college…during my internship I had to assist on a case where a father murdered his infant daughter in a most brutal fashion.  I also assisted on a child pornography investigation.  I would have no idea at that point that these events would haunt me much later.

In 1991, I became a reserve police officer.  I completed the first two phases of my Field Training (FTO) volunteering 3 nights per week and working the other four at a major retailer.  I was hired full-time at the PD at the end of Phase 2.  Within a week of going full-time, I would get my first traumatic event as a police officer.  I was called to a death investigation where the man had dies resulting from complications with AIDS.  He had been suffering for some time, until Hospice came in at the end.  My training sergeant was later involved in a shooting.  I can still see the look on the man’s face as my sergeant stood over him.  I worked a fatal traffic crash involving a pizza delivery driver, where the owner of the pizza restaurant showed up on scene, and was asking if he could get the pizzas to finish the delivery.

Our department was more progressive than most at the time, and actually required probationary officers to attend a session with one of the psychologists affiliated with the department at least once during each of the training phases.  I would later forge a professional relationship with the psychologist I saw, but at the time, did not take it seriously.

Crashes with dismemberment and death would follow over the ensuing years.  Watching a stabbing patient slowly decline and die on the ambulance ride to the hospital, was a trying event (even though he was a robbery suspect).  Nothing would affect me as negatively as the events of October 11, 1995 (and the weeks following).

It was about 8:30 in the evening and we responded to a domestic disturbance.  We learned that was a middle-aged man and his elderly mother.  The mother admitted us into the apartment. As we gathered information from her the son came out of back bedroom carrying a double-barrel 12-gauge shotgun.  I yelled for the man to drop the gun many times.  The man started to raise the barrel of the shotgun.  I fired to shots at him.  My partner was simultaneously pulling the mother out of the way and returning fire as well.  The suspect did not survive.  In the days that followed, we were told we had to attend a mandatory counseling session, and well as a fitness for duty evaluation.  Again, I fulfilled every requirement, but did not really take it seriously.  I definitely felt the stigma associated with mental health concerns.  I remember being told, take the time off that you need.  Within 7-10 days of the shooting, however, our watch commander was calling and asking if I was coming to work the following day.  Several weeks later, testifying in front of the grand jury was almost as traumatic as the shooting itself.

About two weeks after reporting back to full duty, I nearly had to shoot a 15 year-old that was armed with a handgun.  Once we got him taken into custody, the gravity of what just happened started to sink in.  In the days following, I went to my first voluntary counseling session.  I genuinely liked the psychologist but was unsure if it was going to do any good.  He confirmed one of the forward-looking practices that our department had put in place…the practice would bill the department with an anonymous ID number.  I still resisted making the therapy a regular practice.

Before long, the addition of a second child, my wife being diagnosed with clinical depression, and several deaths in the family my stress level shot through the roof.  I gained 60 pounds in the years after the shooting.  I first became interested in photography around this time but being a single-income family, I did not feel I could afford something like that for myself (even a 2-megapixel camera was pricey back then).  

I finally realized that I needed to see someone on a regular basis (at least for a while).  I started bi-weekly sessions, then monthly, then as needed.  I would continue to struggle with weight and hypertension the remainder of my career.  I had a couple of people that recognized I was heading down a bad path, and I am thankful that they had the courage to speak up.

My wife finally forced me to take up photography when she bought me a camera after I retired.  We took a trip to Alaska for our silver anniversary, and I quickly realized how much I did not know about digital photography.  I got involved with a local nature photography club and the members were all too happy to share their knowledge with me.  I have found new joy, and challenges abound.  I wish I had taken up the hobby 30 years ago! 

My advice to all those younger officers, PSCOs, firefighters, and medics is to find a hobby that you will enjoy.  I chose nature photography because it allows me to be alone with nature.  It helps me find peace.  Do it sooner than later.  Even if your department doesn’t have a counseling option available, please reach out and find a counselor if you need it.  Do it sooner than later.  If you see your colleagues struggling, reach out to them.  Do it sooner than later.

Many thanks to Scott, Marcus, and David for sharing their photos, story and journeys. I encourage all who are reading this to sustainably feed their mind, body and spirit. Start early, be prepared for obstacles, encourage others and take care of yourselves and each other. May God bless the warrior servants all across our planet and strengthen and protect them.

First responder, PSCO (public safety communications officers) and military careers are intense, consuming and rewarding careers. The intensity however can sometimes be at the expense of healthy living which can exact a hefty cost over the long run. We surround ourselves with people who have similar interests, become consumed pursuing our career and forget to care for ourselves over the short and long term. Developing healthy habits early on in the career is vital. Mindfully updating those habits and adding healthy pursuits as time goes by is even more important. My goal with this blog is to share some of my experiences, thoughts, successes, failures and pursuits with you. It is my most profound hope that in doing so, I might spark an idea or interest that will help a first responder, PSCO, or member of the military live longer, healthier and more fulfilling lives.

As I venture forth on this new endeavor, there are a few things that I should state. First, I am a retired law enforcement officer and not an english professor. I will no doubt make grammar, spelling and usage errors. I apologize in advance for them. I’ll do the best I can to proofread and edit, but if you find those errors, please consider them marks of authenticity. Secondly, I will not be discussing politics here at all. That said, it is important to acknowledge that there is a perception in the 21st century that warriors like first responders, military members and PSCOs are violent, racist, fringe humans bent on destroying all before them. That is the complete opposite of what I have experienced over the course of a nearly thirty year career and over the course of my life. So, in this space I will acknowledge that there are humans in these careers who behave badly, but in smaller numbers than outside the warrior family of careers. Furthermore, no one wants them weeded out more than those within the warrior family and for the purposes of this blog all those within this family are stellar humans until proven otherwise. These warriors are fathers, mothers, sons, daughters, wives, husbands, neighbors, church members, friends, coworkers, people who work tirelessly in the most adverse of conditions and who, on occasion, run toward the sound of gunfire for the altruistic sake of their fellow humans (even those who criticize them harshly). Lastly, I’m not a doctor, lawyer, accountant, financial advisor or mental health professional. Anything contained herein should be considered to be my musings, opinions, experiences and the things I have learned from them. If something here moves you to take action and change a direction in your life, have the personal responsibility to research that move, consult professionals if appropriate and be mindful and deliberate about your decisions.

The photos above are a collage representing some of the themes I hope to touch on. Healthy pursuits (hobbies and past times), healthy living (exercise) and taking time to acknowledge the beauty and wonder of the world around us.

From left to right and top to bottom, here is a brief description of the images and any relevant story connected to them:

Shortly after my oldest son moved out. He let it be known that he would like me to make him a chess board. The board you see is one of the more difficult and time consuming projects I have undertaken. Constructed of white oak and cedar making up the checkerboard and black walnut around the edges, all the wood is locally sourced or reclaimed locally. As imperfect as the man who built it, I was pleased with the outcome none the less as was my son I believe.

I am an avid bicyclist. This is something that I will, no doubt, touch on in other posts in detail. On this particular day, I was on a long ride, got rained on and although initially annoyed by that fact eventually recognized that the rain made the already scenic ride even more beautiful.

While hiking with my wife at Saint Andrews State Park on a recent camping trip, we came upon this lovely Great Egret (I think) wading and looking for it’s brunch. My modest photography skills were barely adequate to capture the beauty of this elegant creature as it seemingly posed for me in the glassy water and reeds.

Most of the photographs I will use here are mine. If they aren’t I’ll try to give credit to those who took them. In this case my friend and coworker (part time job) Linda took this whimsical picture of a cutting board I built for her replete with a wonderful looking chicken dish. Her dog apparently also shared an appreciation for the board, dish or both.

The last image shows off a camera lens of mine and a knife that my son gave me sitting on a table that I built for another friend. My son was apparently amused that I so pleased with the picture that included a less expensive knife than he had requested a picture of. I liked it however. The table was a labor of love for a wonderful person, the knife a gift from my amazing son, the lens a gift from my wife and life partner and the photograph and hobby of photography inspired by my father and my son.

If you made it this far, congratulations! Thank you for taking the time to read this. Stay healthy. Stay safe.