A Day in the Life. Sometimes.

December 2005

A typical day. I worked till 5:00, went for a run, ate supper by myself, and did whatever I did before I had children as I waited for my husband to get home anytime after 10:30.

A typical night. Phone rings around 9:30, the husband asking if I wanted him to pick anything up on his way home tonight.

10:45.

11:00.

Strange, it seemed he was planning to be on time tonight. Guess I'll turn the scanner on and see if anything interesting is going on.

Ok, lots of radio traffic. Perimeters set up? Lots of codes that I was unfamiliar with, but it was clear that something big was happening. I settled into the couch and listened to everything, trying to figure out what was going on. I had clearly missed the initial call, but maybe I could figure out what was going on by listening to the follow up.

By 2 or 3 am I was worried sick as I dozed on the couch. Clearly something was wrong. Very wrong. When my phone wrang I answered it anxiously.

"It's me. I can't talk. I was involved in a shooting. I'm ok. I shot the guy. I'm going to be a while." Click.

I was unaware of what the past few hours were like for my husband. I was unaware of what he would be going through now. But I know that time seemed to freeze for me at that moment. Does this really happen to people 3 months into a career as a police officer? Yes I know you train and prepare for this, but you actually were in this situation already? What am I supposed to do? What am I supposed to say? Can I talk to anyone? I feel like I need to. What do I say? Am I allowed to say anything?

I called my parents. "My husband was involved in a shooting, I have no details but I called because I know you'll pray for us"

I called his parents. "Your son was involved in a shooting. I have no details, but I called because I know you'll pray for us."

A few hours later the front door finally opened. I was briefly given a few details:

"The car I took cover behind has 11 bullet holes in it. He shot at us probably 40 times before anyone could get a shot at him. I was finally able to get a shot. He's dead. I'm tired. Let's go to bed."

And so we did. Him asleep instantly. Me laying there picturing my husband being shot at.
Me filled with anger that someone would shoot at him and the other officers.
Me filled with relief that he was now home sleeping safely by me.
Me thankful that the 'bad guy' got what he deserved (I'm just being honest).
Me filled with pride that my husband did what he needed to do.