THE BADGE OF LIFE

January 29, 2009: A retired police officer died in his home of a self-inflicted gunshot wound. He was 62, a military veteran, and had served 26 years as a police officer, retiring in 1998. It was learned that he lived alone and could find no one that could stay at the hospital that day with him, a requirement, for routine surgery on his foot. He had also lost much of his retirement savings in the recent stock crash and had recently been robbed and assaulted, considered a humiliation by many cops. An officer at the nearby station had agreed to take him and drop him off and then return to pick him up, but the retiree was afraid the officer wouldn't be able to stay through the procedure. He was afraid to ask.

"Police are control freaks," said one mourner. "We are. We think we have control over our lives, but we don't. I think Eddie felt he was losing control over his." It was noted that active police officers "spend inordinate amounts of time together, protecting each others lives while protecting others, and then go out and spend time with each other again." Focusing on retirees, the police chaplain noted, "We need to reach out to each other. We need to reach out to our retirees like Ed. ... Ed died alone. But Ed was never alone. God was always by his side."

THE ISOLATED WORLD OF THE POLICE RETIREE

Few departments recognize the tremendous impact retirement in general has on an officer. From practically the first day in the academy, a cadet can tell you roughly when they will retire. At varying times during their careers, they will maintain a focus on that approximate date, which will become more and more concrete as they grow closer to it.

It has been suggested, however, that one of the most vulnerable times for a police officer is that period nearing retirement and the first year or two after. Before actual retirement comes uncertainty—the uniform will be hung up for the last time. More pressing on the officer may be financial fears, depending on pension arrangements and individual debts. The possibilities of employment because of age and disability (in a real world) may be lessened. Far too many departments still stubbornly refuse to recognize--at all--the role of emotional trauma on police officers and make the disability and eventual departure a living nightmare.

A random survey of 25 police departments in California by Captain Valerie Tanguay of the San Bernardino County Sheriff's Department (2008) found that only one had any kind of retirement counseling with retiring officers and their spouses--and that was in a program offered to all city employees. That program in and of itself was of interest, however: it is six weeks long, with couples meeting once a week for three hour sessions. In the first, couples were separated and asked to draw a picture of what they felt retirement would look like. Coming together, they often found wide differences in their idea of "happily ever after," which led to dialogue and, ultimately, a far smoother transition by planning joint and separate activities to avoid miscommunication. You can read her paper on this at "Life After Retirement."

Violanti (1997) feels that “police officers continue to experience the ‘residual’ of trauma after separating from police service. The number of suicides involving retirees, however, cannot be stated without any certainty. A frequently quoted but questionable study by C. W. Gaska, which was limited in scope, suggested retirees kill themselves at a rate ten times higher than active police officers and that one out of five disabled retirees are destined to kill themselves. These figures are debatable and need additional study (go to "Current Myths" for more on this).

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Violanti (1997) feels that “police officers continue to experience the ‘residual’ of trauma after separating from police service.

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Violanti also reports that an increased risk of disease and death is common among police retirees, high among the causes being cancers of the colon and liver. Another of his studies showed an average life expectancy of 66 years, or 10.6 years after retirement, adjusted for age and gender. This is lower than the average for males in the United States (76 years of age).

Sadly, the valuable resource of the retiree in terms of experience, strength, knowledge, hope and wisdom is generally ignored by departments and academies.

RETIREE SUICIDES


The "Mental Health Prescription" is for retirees, too.

Officers cling to the belief, in part based on truth, that they are part of a big “family” during their careers. When they retire, they suddenly lose that “family.” In time, they become a nuisance when they show up at their old office to join in coffee breaks. They are relegated to “retiree groups” that render some camaraderie but can never equal the strong feeling of “family” they once felt wearing the badge.

Far too many take with them, into retirement, the years and decades of unresolved trauma and, suddenly alone, begin to suffer the symptoms of postraumatic stress disorder or similar anxiety symptoms. Lost and confused, they attempt to stifle such feelings, not understanding these feelings are appearing "now."

Some drink. Others lose relationships or engage in reckless behaviors. Some isolate and slide into depression. Average life expectancies are low, for retired officers. Far too many, as the figures show, choose to simply end it early.

What is that telling us? That we have successfully put a band aid on their wounds--until we could sweep them away, forgotten. And too often suicidal.

What are the police retiree suicide numbers?

Not a lot is actually known. Here's the scoop: In 1980, C. W. Gaska did his doctoral thesis and in it studied the Detroit police department, comparing its retirees to the white, male general population of Detroit. He concluded from this that retired police officers commit suicide at a rate of 335/100,000. Additionally, he concluded that disabled police retirees commit suicide at a rate of 22,616 / 100,000. This figure has been quoted all over the place without really thinking about it.

What do Gaska's figures really mean? Probably not much. If Gaska were correct, based on the number of retirees out there (an estimate), we would see 11,500 retired officers killing themselves each year (almost a thousand per month and 36 every day). The chance of this kind of carnage is mathematically unlikely. Additionally, unlike active duty officers, retirees are extremely difficult to track. They move, disperse into the community, lose touch with their departments, and as they reach advanced ages they often pass on and news of their passing escapes notice beyond the local area.

The issue of retiree suicides is now under fresh study, however, and we hope to see results soon. Researchers like John Violanti do feel, generally, that retiree suicides are high and quite likely greater than those of active officers, but there is nothing to substantiate it, yet.

DISABILITY RETIREMENTS AND SUICIDE

Acutely unsettling are the “untimely” retirements for injuries for which officers find themselves stripped of their badge and sent off with a minimal settlement. The United States Department of Commerce reports that 56 percent of all retiring police officers leave on disability retirements.

Regardless of the severity of their injury, many disabled retirees reluctantly admit to feeling shame in the presence of other officers who “made it” through a “full career,” even with injuries of their own. Worse, if they had the misfortune of being retired on a stress related injury, such as PTSD, they are often looked upon like "the crazy aunt in the basement."

Characteristic of the stigma attached to PTSD was the response of one chief, several martinis under, who blustered at a dinner, "They're retiring people on stress these days--I thought this was a stressful job!"

We have many officers who finish their careers with undiagnosed cumulative trauma, carrying along with physical pains the deep scars associated with a lifetime of emotional wounding. For many retirees, there is a lack of understanding of what they have truly been through—they have been drilled to believe that posttraumatic stress only occurs as the result of “One Big, Critical Incident,” and that all the rest of the death, carnage and hostility over the decades was "just part of the job."

PHYSICAL DISABILITIES: Those facing major physical disabilities face additional burdens. Read the article, "The Disabled Police Officer--Gone AND Forgotten."

RETIREE MENTORING PROGRAM

One innovation we would like to see implemented by departments is a "mentoring program." This would involve voluntarily matching, as best as possible, a new officer with a selected retired officer in the community (whether from the same department or not) to act as a support resource—a mentor. The advantages of this are obvious. Much can be discussed that is outside the “locker room culture,” and the new officer can receive both support and guidance in dealing with the stresses and difficult adaptations to the job suffered by most recruits. An adequate selection process, of course, would be essential.

ALCOHOLICS ANONYMOUS FOR COPS

An important resource for retirees is the list of Alcoholics Anonymous groups for law enforcement. Departments should make this list available for their officers and retirees. A listing for groups, nationally, can be found at Alcoholics Anonymous for Police Officers. Additionally, departments should encourage the establishment of such groups in their areas and add to the list if they already have one--further information on doing so can be found on the website.

THE VALUE OF THE RETIREE

There must be an investment in the welfare of retirees as well as active duty officers, including mental health presentations. There are a variety of ways this can be done--through the department, the union, benevolent associations, clubs, etc. There is no reason we can think of that departments should be unwilling to share their mental health/suicide prevention programs and information with retirees (so that they can then share them with one another).

The great advantage of using Retirees for academy and squad presentations on suicide prevention and mental health is that they are unhindered by peer pressure and the "Code." They don't face the problem described by one academy instructor who said he was reluctant to really share of himself and his most helpful (i.e., vulnerable) experiences out of fear he might be working some day with members of the audience.

Beyond the mere telling of "stories," it is our experience that the retiree has immeasurable value because, after preparation, he/she can talk about what police work really is and explain trauma at a level that active officers are reluctant to do. The retiree is no longer "part of the system." The retiree talks with one goal in mind--the best interest of his audience, be it one or many.

PEER SUPPORT AND POLICE RETIREES: Additionally, if a department has a peer support officer program in effect, it seems only logical and of minimal expense to also share that program’s criteria so that retiree organizations can establish a “contact system” or “telephone tree” by which word can be passed or contacts made in the event a retiree is in distress or knows of one to whom aid might be given.

Police retirees--a forgotten treasure.

On Trying to Track Retiree Suicides

Violanti (1997) feels that “police officers continue to experience the ‘residual’ of trauma after separating from police service. Clearly, we believe, any high rate of suicides, if true, is ascribable to unresolved trauma from the job. Most responsible, we assert, is the cumulative trauma--the many unresolved issues, the hauntings of many years that follow into retirement.

We have spoken to many retirees who admit to haunted feelings, to directionless anxiety and difficulties sleeping. Following a career of loyalty to the "code of silence" and suspicion of therapists, they are locked in step and left only to suffer unless, we can only hope, they make the decision to reach out for help.

The difficulty with trying to come up with an annual "number" for police retiree suicides is that

1. They move, lose contact with their department and, after years, pass on without mention of their career.

2. No one knows how many police retirees are even out there.

Much is to be said for implementation of retiree suicide prevention programs, but interest among departments is minimal to none. The overriding philosophy seems to be one of "out of sight, out of mind." The retiree, after all, is no longer a departmental responsibility or liability. Given the high sucide rate for retirees, we encourage departments to consider this worthwhile investment. They have much to gain by motivating employees to remain until a full service retirement, rather than leaving early on a disability. It sets the example!

“Routine Stops” - A Retiree's Story

Dick Augusta stopped believing in routines one fateful night when he was gunned down by armed felons on a "Routine Stop". The vehicle had three occupants he later learned had been on a 'Crime Spree' of robberies and murders. While speaking to the driver, one of the male occupants in the back seat shot him point blank from about three feet. The bullet ripped into his body, puncturing his left kidney and sticking to his spine, knocking him to the pavement. He knew he was going to die, but drew his service revolver and started firing at his assailants, despite the intense pain and loss of blood. He was intent on "taking one of them with him." The assailants fled in their vehicle, and Dick struggled to his feet and laid on the seat of the patrol car, elevating his feet so he wouldn't go into shock. In minutes, an ambulance had him on the way to the hospital.

A Catholic Priest was summoned and administered 'Last Rites' prior to emergency surgery.

Dick had many weeks in the hospital to think how close that ‘Routine Stop’ had come to being a one way trip to the cemetery, or worse, a lifetime pass to a wheelchair. It took a year to heal from the bullet wound, and he then realized he needed psychotherapy to overcome the trauma.

Still, he found he wasn’t able to continue his career after such a traumatic bullet wound injury—few can. He tried, but found himself on the edge of “drawing down” at the slightest provocation. He feared he would do harm to someone innocent. His nerves were on edge constantly. He found myself facing retirement. Nothing, however, prepared him for what was next—the sense of loss and the crushing "aloneness" an officer feels when he is severely injured on the job, retired--and forgotten. He or she is initially subjected to a wave of sympathy and support, media coverage--and then sent away with a minimal pension...and forgotten.

It's no small wonder that the suicide rate for medically retired officers is the 'highest' for all Law Enforcement. They are the "walking dead", shuffled off to annual BBQ's; cool receptions at CHP Offices; and a brief obituary in the union paper. Sadly, Dick came to believe in the words: "Courage is a fragile thing, and history doesn't linger for too long anywhere."

Dick Augusta was fortunate to have survived a shooting that ruptured his kidney and lodged near his spine. His reactions to a relatively sudden retirement and his feelings of abandonment, however, are not that unusual. To this day, 30 years later, Dick has trouble sleeping. At the slightest sound, even a car door closing down the street, he is upright and alert, looking for danger. Awakened thusly many nights, he is unable to return to sleep. He has extra outside floodlights for a feeling of security and leaves lights on in the house while he sleeps.

Dick is left with a lasting depression from the fateful night that he gave “his all” for the Department and the citizens he served, but that the doors were closed not only to the "family" he once knew, but that his accumulated wisdom is valueless. The bullet wound still hurts. The "soul wounds" hurt much more.

THE SOUNDS OF SILENCE

Ed responded to the call of a big rig on its side, the driver dead and pinned behind the wheel. Upon arrival, he looked into the darkened cab and could hear, below, a two-year old boy and his four year-old sister, uninjured and talking quietly to one another. At the same time, Ed realized diesel fuel from one of the tanks was draining into the cab and slowly filling the lower part--where the little boy was pinned.

Frantically, he and the rescue workers began pulling at the metal in an effort to get past the driver so they could extricate the two children—who continued talking to one another all the while, reassuringly.

The diesel fuel continued to fill the cab as they worked…until there was only one voice. They pulled out the girl, alive.

Her brother remained behind, silent.

25 years later, Ed Estes is haunted by silence.

California Highway Patrol Officer Earl John Rice, cir. 1934, Harley Davidson motorcycle, Morgan Hill. Photo courtesy of the Rice family.

A Forgotten Story from the California Highway Patrol.

Read how one retiree has lived with the trauma of 50 years ago at CHP History.