For many years I served as a member of our community’s LOSS team. The Local Outreach to Survivors of Suicide (LOSS) team was a group of volunteers who responded to situations where a suicide had occurred to offer support, information, and follow-up services to family members left behind. In addition to providing first response services, we offered support groups, memorials, and a wide variety of ongoing support for survivors as they navigated the recovery from trauma and adjustment to their new lives of grief and loss. Part of the process was serving as a liaison between family members and law enforcement at the scene of a death. Because we were dispatched by the 911 call center, we often arrived on scene while the investigation was in progress. We worked with survivors and often explained to them the process of investigation and why there might be a delay in viewing their loved one. We sat with family members while they waited for their turn to be interviewed by investigators. As we did so we were careful not to speculate or offer any opinions about what happened. It was important that we did not influence anything that a person might say as the investigation proceeded.

Our training for the work included classes led by coroners in investigation procedures. Some of those classes involved dramatic photographs of death scenes. Over the years as I worked, I became familiar with many deputy coroners and other law enforcement officers. Often I would arrive at the scene and conduct a brief conversation with a law enforcement officer before meeting with survivors. It was common for me to receive graphic reports of what the officers had seen upon their arrival. After we had provided services to survivors, it was common for me to have follow-up conversations with officers that frequently included listening again to the officers’ stories and diffusing some of their emotional reactions to what they had witnessed.

After many years of this process, I became aware that many law enforcement officers were themselves survivors of suicide. Although they may not have lost a family member to suicide, they had been witness to the immediate effects of suicide. Like other survivors they needed a forum to tell their stories and process their emotions. In addition, I attended a number of suicide deaths where the victim was a law enforcement officer, a fire fighter, or another first responder. I became aware of the heavy emotional toll of service in such roles.

As a result of these observations, I eventually became a Sheriff’s Chaplain to serve law enforcement officers in their roles. I served seven years as a chaplain and in some ways became a law enforcement insider. I became friends with many officers, prosecutors, and court officials in the process. When I retired from the parish, I also retired from the LOSS team and from my position as a chaplain.

I continue to reflect on my experiences and even though I have been retired for a little more than three years, I am deeply aware of the psychological effects of law enforcement work. I am especially aware of the process of dealign with Post Traumatic Stress Disorder (PTSD). This disorder develops when a person has experienced or witnessed a scary, shocking, terrifying, or dangerous event. All survivors of suicide experience some level of PTSD. The experience of losing a loved one is traumatic and there will be some psychological effects of that experience.

I have personal experiences of PTSD that arose after witnessing a particularly challenging aftermath of a death by suicide and later witnessing a cardiac arrest and the resulting CPR that my wife suffered. Although she has completely recovered from the incident, I experienced flash backs, inability to sleep, and other PTSD symptoms. Fortunately for me, because I was a Sheriff’s Chaplain, I had access to the department psychologist who was a specialist in PTSD and I was able to receive prompt and effective treatment for my experiences.

What I now know is something that I hope can be communicated with all law enforcement officers, their families, and the general public. I know that this is a blanket statement, and some might think it overboard, but I believe that ALL law enforcement officers suffer PTSD to some degree. It is not a matter of whether an officer will suffer PTSD, but rather when.

Despite how we imagine the work of law enforcement, it is not often a process of driving cars fast, facing the threat of injury or death in the actions of a criminal, and saving lives. The job can involve hours of boredom, responding to calls about stolen bicycles, parking violations, and neighbor disputes. There can be long periods of routine patrols, searches for evidence without finding any, and piles and piles of paperwork writing reports. Many officers serve for decades without ever pulling their duty weapons from their holsters except in training exercises. All officers, however, occasionally find themselves in the position of witnessing trauma. Perhaps their role is directing traffic while paramedics perform their duties, and as they do so they recall what they first witnessed upon arriving on scene of the accident. Perhaps they are assigned to deliver news of death in an automobile accident and they witness the reaction of family members to the unexpected loss. Perhaps they arrive at the scene of a domestic dispute and suffer a barrage of angry cursing and shouting. Interspersed with the hours of boring duty are moments of witnessing trauma.

I’ve accompanied officers on hundreds of death notification calls. There are officers with whom I’ve been on multiple such calls. I know how difficult this necessary task is. I’ve had people literally collapse onto the floor in tears upon hearing the news. We learned to invite people to sit down before we delivered the news just so they would have a shorter distance to fall.

Too often the PTSD of an officer goes unnoticed. The officer is not aware of the meaning of their symptoms and does not know how to seek treatment. There is a fear that a session with a psychiatrist might affect the course of one’s career. And like other psychological disorders, symptoms do not go away on their own. Officers can fall into depression and all too often begin to have suicidal ideation. And they are issued and daily carry the means of suicide on their belts. The tragedy that can follow creates yet another round of loss and trauma.

Our county has just elected a new Sheriff and I have already had one conversation with him about care of officers. I found him responsive to the concerns I raised. I am confident that he will respond with additional support services for officers. There is much work that needs to be done. Maybe an old retired preacher can be of help from time to time.