Breaking Cops, Volume I

THURSDAY, 10:57AM

Jim,

We recently had a terrible call on a night-shift that involved several of our officers.

A house trailer burned during the dark of night with the mother, father, and five young children inside.

On arrival, the father was unresponsive and is still in critical condition. The mother was burned badly. Three of the children were DOS (DOA/DRT). The fourth child died in the hospital after a couple of days. The fifth/last child was burned badly but will most likely live.

When the shift sergeant called me at 0400 hrs, I could tell from his voice that he needed me there – for nothing more than the support I could offer.

The email below is from a young officer responding to a message I sent him about being a hero.  The deps on that call were all superheroes!  This email is clearly his way of trying to work through the pain of being unable to breathe life back into a dying child.

I am forwarding the email to you because it is quite possibly the most articulate, powerful email I’ve ever received.

Hope all is well,

Lt. Andy Engster

Lapeer County Sheriff’s Office

IT HIT ME LIKE A TON OF BRICKS

LT….

Let me begin by saying ‘thank-you’ for the compliment in the email about our stress debrief.  I am writing this because I feel it is very important to attempt to articulate some of the issues that stem from these types of incidents.

Through performing this job I have learned many things, I have had the pleasure of gleaning invaluable and unique experience.  I consider my background to be diverse. Because of that, I have had to experience certain things on a routine basis that many people do not.

In all of the things that have seemingly become routine, one thing in particular has always, and always will strike the hardest and remain seemingly insurmountable.  To see a child injured, or killed is an indescribable horror.

I understand the psychology behind what makes an adult feel the way they do in those instances, but I cannot help but let it affect me the same way in each instance.  You do not gain enough control within yourself to avoid having that pain invade your heart.

A person’s station in life does not separate them from the emotion of the aforementioned.  Yesterday, I was handed two children, in both cases I felt it paramount to move as quickly as possible.

The first child was not breathing or conscious when I grabbed him, I just started running towards where I knew the nearest ambulance to be.  I performed sternal rubs and small compressions and after a few attempts the child took several large breaths and opened his eyes.

After handing the child off to EMS, I went back for more, knowing full-well each passing second meant increased odds the next child placed in my arms would not survive. Fearing that I would be able to do nothing to help them draw a breath under their own power.

When I was handed the next child, I ran to a different ambulance. This time I stayed with him as I was unable to gain any sort of response from him. I just kept talking to him and telling him to hold on, to hang in there. But he was so badly burned, and completely unresponsive that I feared he would not survive.

I did not have the time nor the inclination to glove-up before starting compressions as I felt it would have diminished his chances of surviving and any sort of safety precaution which took time away in that instance was unequivocally selfish.

I laid the boy at his sister’s feet on the gurney. They were both in the exact same shape physically.  I began compressions and kept them up. I just kept talking to the two babies. In my heart, I feared they had slipped away long before they were placed in my arms.

I try not let any thoughts of my loved ones creep into my mind when something like this happens. But that is almost impossible. So, I just tried to focus on the thought that I had to do exactly what I would want someone to do for my son if he were in that position.

When I laid the boy down next to his sister, he was still warm from the heat of the fire. With my limited ability, I performed CPR. My hands were stretched across the boy and his sister’s chests. All the while, we traded duties in the back of the ambulance.

Even though I could feel the cold creeping into both of those children, I just kept doing compressions.  I don’t doubt my actions. I know everything that I did was to the absolute limit of my capabilities. I only wished I had a little more luck thrown my way in this instance.

It’s the innocence and helplessness that surrounds children that makes this so woeful.  It is our job to protect. But, there was no way to protect these children from this event. That is simply the root of the helplessness that sinks in when something like this happens.

I have tried to be honest with myself. I know that we had nothing to do with anything that happened tonight. I just don’t want to lose in these instances and I don’t want anyone on our crew to suffer or have to feel what those involved are feeling.