Flyinbowtie
Well-Known Member
- Joined
- Sep 25, 2007
- Messages
- 12,044
- Reaction score
- 11,136
FBT’s Christmas story, how we can make a difference and never know…
Every year, when I start seeing Christmas lights and decorations, I remember. I’ve told this story here before, but there are new people, and I think it is worth repeating, considering what we are going through in this country right now.
Late December, 1993.
A cold and rainy miserable day, and it was that rain that looked like it could turn to snow by evening. Just like today, actually. The clouds are big, dark, and only growing more ominous. The rain on the windshield is splotchy, spittin’ snow as we called it, and there is no doubt snow is coming. I was working dayshift, the senior deputy and FTO for the team. This was my “Friday”, my last shift before a 2-week vacation. The motor home and trailer were loaded and hooked up, and the boys were wound up.
We were headed down south to my in-laws in West Covina for Christmas, then to Glamis for New Years where friends from home would join us. I had taken the Sergeants test a month before, and those of us who had made the final list were told a pick would be made before the first of the year. After briefing I asked the Patrol Captain to leave a message at the in laws if word came down, one way or the other. I gave him the number, then I went 10-8.
I was going through stuff in my head making sure everything was ready for the trip. It was quiet, people were hunkered down for the incoming storm. We were going to leave as soon as I got home from work.
At about 2pm Dispatch asked me to call “Tina” at CPS. Tina was a straight shooter, no BS with this lady. Something was up. I called, she asked to meet at her office to talk about a case. Once there she filled me in. She had very reliable info that there was an infant in an unfit home in town. She wanted me to go with her and check on the baby. After hearing her info it was clear we had PC to check on this baby.
I followed her to the house. It was in an older neighborhood on the outskirts of town proper. Most of the houses were clean, well-cared for and mostly owner occupied, but there were some rentals in the mix too. This house was one of those. There was an acrid, nasty smell coming from the chimney smoke. The residents were tweakers; a couple of early twentysomethings. Most of the other homes looked bright and cheery, lots of Christmas lights and decorated trees in the front windows. Happy people. This place was dark, dank, and uninviting. Crap everywhere in the yard, no one had used the front door in years, and the picture window in front was covered with a sheet. I went to the side door along the driveway.
I had done business before with these people.
I told Tina to stay behind me and I knocked on the door. The female opened the door and gave me the expected reaction when she saw the uniform. I told her we were there to check on the baby. She started to close the door, I stuck my size 12.5 triple E in the threshold and explained the facts for her.
In California, a cop, with PC can enter a home to check on the welfare of a child who might be in immediate danger. Based on the info Tina had provided I had plenty of cause to do so, my previous business with these folks notwithstanding. I told the woman what was going to happen. I was coming in, her call on how that went down. She stepped aside.
The door led into the kitchen. It was about 40 degrees outside, and not much warmer inside. As I walked by the kitchen I looked in the sink. It was half full of cloudy stagnant water and unidentifiable gunk on dirty dishes. It smelled. Bad. I asked where the baby was and where her old man was. Tweaker woman pointed to the bathroom and said, “the baby is in there.” I sent Tina, and followed the woman to clear the house.
Tweaker man was on the couch, sipping a beer. I made the scene safe and talked to the two turds. They were burning dirty pampers in the fireplace, that was the smell we got outside from the chimney. It along with the stench from the funk in the sink permeated the whole house. There was a small electric space heater at the foot of the couch. They had a blanket they were obviously both sitting under until I knocked. They were watching TV and I saw a cable box on top of the set. They had cable TV but no food for the baby. Hell the county would give them food if they got off their asses and asked.
I ID’ed and ran both of them. No warrants, no probation. No weapons in the house. I told them to stay on the couch and keep their hands in plain sight. There was a mutt dog curled up on the couch on another blanket.
Tina called out to me, a catch in her voice. I went into the bathroom and stood where I could keep one eye on the two adults. There was a filthy bassinette in there, and in it was an infant. The baby was under a single filthy towel, and she was cool to the touch, wearing a soiled pajama deal. My blood began to boil. I could smell that she needed to be changed. Tina stuck a warm bottle of formula in her mouth after confirming the child had no known allergies. (Tina comes prepared) and the baby went to town on it. She was hungry. We checked, her diaper was dirty and she had diaper rash and what looked like bedbug or flea bites. You get the picture. The bastards, I thought. Blankets for them, and one for the dog, but the baby...nope. Blood was going good now. Tina could tell.
I went back to the kitchen. I opened the refrigerator and in it there was half a 24 pack of beer, a bottle of Gatorade, some moldy looking cheese, and nothing else. No formula, and there were no bottles or any other feeding gear in the kitchen. The trash can was overflowing with fast food wrappers. By this point I had made up my mind the baby was going with me.
I wanted to put a case together that would be untouchable, and Tina would need a couple of days to get her to a doctor and get a report. The baby, (a girl as Tina had been told, and we confirmed when Tina changed her diaper with one she brought), was my primary concern at that point. I really wanted to hook them in the worst way, but I had to focus on the baby. Tweakers can wait I had to tell myself. Baby first.
I went out to the car, got my camera, and took a ton of photos of the interior of the house, its condition, the empty fridge. The fireplace. I carried a thermometer big enough to see in a 35mm print in my war bag, and I shot a pic of it after it sat for a few minutes on the bathroom counter.
49 degrees. I had what I needed.
I simply said, “I am taking the child and placing her with CPS. I am going to call the DA and will have the necessary paperwork on file with the court by 5pm that will make this an emergency custody order. It is my intent to make sure she stays in a safe place until this case is moving forward and Child Protective Services and the Court says you have a fit home and are straight enough to be parents.” It was obvious that getting straight was not a priority in their lives.
“I am going to be filing felony child endangerment charges, for starters, with the DA. I know both of you. I will be back with a warrant so when you get notice, show up. Or not. I will take great pleasure in arresting you two”. I sat my card on the table with the case number I had pulled.
They never said a word, they didn’t give a damn about the baby other than the money she added to their income.
I took off my Tuffy Jacket, (standard cop jacket of the times, fake fur collar, but it was warm because I had been wearing it all morning) and wrapped the baby in it and we left. I wasn’t ready to let her out of my sight at that point. These kinda calls were one of my “buttons”.. I cranked up the heater. I had one hand on the bottle and one on the wheel. By the time I made the 15 min trip to the office the baby was alert and had color in her cheeks, and she was warming up.
Once we got to the CPS Office Tina was worried about finding foster care so close to Christmas. I thought about that for a minute, and called my wife. I told her what was up…and started to ask her and she stopped me…she said, “Honey, if you have to bring her home, bring her. My parents will understand. Let me know if you are bringing her, I will pick up some things on the way home from work” (My wife is the champion of all cop wives) Tina and her staff listened to my call as they worked on the baby, and they heard my conversation with Cindy. I told Tina we would take her in an emergency. They all cried. The gals had shot a ton more photos for me and them of her condition…building the case. She was so tiny. Then they bathed her and dressed in a brand new little PJ onesie thing the gals had. Tina gave me the info on her, for my report, which she had confirmed with her source. It matched what the tweakers had given us.
Tina found a foster family. We did a conference call to a deputy DA and the DA got a Superior Court Judge on the line, and in 20 minutes we had a temporary custody order on the FAX machine in her office, and one at mine for swings to drop off at the tweaker house.
The baby was safe and would stay in foster care for the duration. Step one was done. I brushed the baby’s now rosy cheek with the back of my hand, felt the new warmth in her. As she finished the second bottle of formula, it fell out of her mouth. Asleep instantly. I finished gathering my stuff.
When I came back over to her she was awake again. She looked up at us. I was sliding my jacket out from under her, now in her fresh pink PJs, and I honestly think she smiled a bit at me. The gals put a swaddling blanket around her as I took my jacket back. I wanted to take a pic of her wrapped in my jacket with the agency shoulder patch showing but I didn’t. I really wish I had.
Then to my office to put my paperwork together. I dictated the narrative of the report. I booked the film. I grabbed a typist from up front and gave her a heads up I would need someone to hold over a bit, told her why and she said “I got this.”
At 5pm I had finished the dictation and had her go to work on it while I did the other paperwork. Sherry was one of our best, she was in tears by the time she finished typing it up, I handed it to the duty sergeant at about 6pm, 30 min past my quitting time. He read it and muttered several obscenities under his breath as he signed it and said, “get outta here, enjoy your vacation, but if this goes to warrant I want to go with you to hook these two”.
As I drove home I tried to get my head to shift gears. It isn’t always easy. Anyway off we went, down 5. All I could think about driving down to LA was that child. Cindy and I talked after the boys were asleep as we rolled down the highway. We even talked adoption. That little girl was on my mind .
regularly.
I got a phone call from the captain after Christmas, before we left West Covina for Glamis. I’d been selected for promotion to Sergeant, and I’d be off to a couple schools when I got back. I would be busy.
We enjoyed Christmas and naturally the phone call about the 3 stripes was awesome, Glamis was fun, and that baby was still on my mind.
When I got back to the office there was a flurry of handshakes and the stripes got sewn on at the cleaners, and the wife pinned the new badge in a ceremony, then off to school, then running swing shift weekends, and I was one busy mofo, buried in new stuff.
I knew the case was making its trip through the system with the DA but no subpoena. In early spring I was about to call the DA and find out what was going on when one afternoon I found he had left a phone message; they were both taking a lower-term plea with joint time. DA said their attorneys looked at the photos in his office and read the reports Tina and I had prepared and decided they didn’t want a judge or a jury to see or hear any of it.
Normal offer would have been a felony but with county time. But...I was pissed, and wanted blood. DA was pissed, Tina and her staff were pissed, and the offer was lower-term or we could all get together and see to it the judge and or jury would be pissed too. With their rap sheets they had it coming. I bugged Tina now and then, she said she’d let me know when she had something definite.
Time goes flying by, a couple years anyway. I am busy, running a shift and the FTO program. One afternoon, when I walked in to my office to start my work week there was a sealed letter addressed to me on my desk blotter. From Tina. Still head of CPS.
I opened it.
And my world changed.
It was a short letter. There was a Polaroid snapshot attached to the letter of a little girl with curly red hair in patent leather shoes, a black skirt and white knee socks and red top, smiling, sitting between a young man and woman on a bench outside Tina’s office.
It reads as follows….
-Jeff,
I wanted to share something with you. Just prior to Christmas in 1993, I called and asked for your help with an infant, case number XXXX. We went there and you removed an infant female from what was clearly an unfit home. As you know the adults took the deal for prison. We have kept in touch about the child as you expressed an interest in knowing what her future was. (Understatement, I was a pain in Tina’s behind, LOL)
The photo I have attached was taken yesterday. This is that little girl with her newly adopted parents, a local couple who were unable to have children of their own. The adoption was final yesterday. She will have no memory of those people, no memory of her life then, no memory of you…but you changed her life, you gave her an opportunity, and fulfilled the dreams of a young couple who are now a family because you saved her from that situation. My staff still talks about the way she was wrapped in your coat when we came into my office, and the way you handled the case. Thanks for your usual outstanding work on this one. You changed the world for her that day. I thought you should know how it mattered.
Thanks again,
Tina.
I almost lost it. Stunned. Overwhelmed. Speechless.
After I had composed myself, I took the letter and headed up to the front office, Sherry, the typist, was now the supervisor of the front office staff had asked me every now and then about the baby as well. It was nearly quitting time for them, and they were all about to head out the door. I walked to Sherry’s desk, she was sitting there and she took one look at me and said, “What is wrong, Jeff”
I couldn’t speak, I just handed her the letter. Sherry read it and broke down and wept. The captain, (the same one who had called me to tell me I made Sgt) was heading out the door. He stopped when he sensed something was up. Sherry handed him the letter, and he about lost it. This attracted the attention of all the gals in the front office.
The cops, the secretaries, all of us were deeply moved.. The captain called Tina. She answered. He said, “Tina, you sent a letter to Jeff, this is his Monday he just got it. I want you to know, there is a 6-4 275lb hard as nails sergeant standing here with tears in his eyes, and a lot of other people in the same shape, I am one of them. Thanks, from him, for this letter. No, I don’t think he can talk right now, but he knows, and that is an incredible gift you gave him”
It took me some time to process this letter. I got suited up and ran briefing and got my guys on the road, and then sat back down at my desk to think about it for a few minutes.
Later I placed redacted copy of it in my resume under a tab labeled “The proudest moment of my career”
I have the original, to this day.
You see, that day, I made a difference. That little girl had a life, a chance, and hope, because of what Tina did that day and what I did. She has parents that loved her as she grew up. She knows nothing of her beginnings. She doesn’t know me; she doesn’t remember that ride in my cop car wearing only a clean diaper and zipped up into my Tuffy jacket, or me carrying her into CPS. She doesn’t recognize that house, she doesn’t know those two pieces of crap who brought her into the world, or how they didn’t give a damn about her. But I remember. I know.
I know.
And in the wee hours of that shift, drinking what was probably the 5th cup of crap coffee, I began to think… we can make a difference in someone’s life…a really huge difference, we can change their world, by what we say and do…and we may NEVER know it happened. Never know what our actions set in motion. And that fact, that we don’t know really isn’t important, because we made a difference.
If Tina hadn’t sent me that note I would have never known. That note changed my world.
1993 was a long time ago. I remember the call like it was yesterday, and I remember reading that letter for the first time and the impact it had on me. Every year at this time it comes flooding back. I used that story teaching new cops about the impact they can have…but ya don’t have to be a cop to make a difference…it can happen at any time, in any place, and you may never know. So think about it the next time you are interacting with someone, and your gut tells you maybe this kid, or adult is worth you giving a moment or two of your time, or that senior citizen who you see that needs a kind word, because…you never know, your actions could change their world. A few minutes of your time might set a change in motion that could be life altering.
I followed, “my little girl” from afar. Not like following her, but followed her story, her life. I know her name, obviously. She did well in school, was a high school athlete and went on to college. Last time I checked she was teaching grade school here in town and Sunday school at a local church. She has married, and her adoptive parents are now grandparents. And she will never know…and she doesn’t need to…but I know, and Tina knows, and some unsung people that labored at desks in a local sheriff’s office, all of whom are now retired…they know.
And now you know.
There is a “drawer” in the file cabinet that is in my brain that is full of “videos” I wish I could erase that just won’t go away. Anyone who has done this job knows what I mean, it is part of the package we get in our, “parting gifts” when we retire, if we are lucky enough to get there.
But ya know what?
This case, this letter, with the Polaroid attached, this was the payback, this is the offset for the misery, this eases the pain in my spine, in my head, and in my heart. If this was all I ever accomplished in that 26 years that went by so unbelievably fast, then it was worth it. If this is the one-day God Almighty made me a cop to deal with, and He put me on that shift on that day to answer Tina’s phone call…. then I am good with that. Because that day changed lives. The life of that little girl, the lives of the people who adopted her…and the lives of her children…that day we altered the course of history.
If Tina hadn’t spent 15 minutes putting that little letter together, and dropping it in the interoffice mail, I would have never known about this.
But the change would still have happened…it was already in the works.
It may not happen right now, but now you know it can happen. Somewhere, someplace maybe around Christmas, maybe on “just another day” …if the little voice you have in your head that sometimes guides you says, “wait a minute, is there something I should do here? Some words I should share, is there some way I can change this?” Take a few minutes and remember this story.
This…this is my gift to you. Just to tickle your thinking at this most special time of year. We all can make a difference. Remember that.
All because of a phone call on a dreary December day. Every year, when the first serious storms of December roll in, and I see that foggy rain that is spitting and gonna turn to snow, I remember….and I am blessed to know what I had a part in that day.
Merry Christmas, RDP.
Every year, when I start seeing Christmas lights and decorations, I remember. I’ve told this story here before, but there are new people, and I think it is worth repeating, considering what we are going through in this country right now.
Late December, 1993.
A cold and rainy miserable day, and it was that rain that looked like it could turn to snow by evening. Just like today, actually. The clouds are big, dark, and only growing more ominous. The rain on the windshield is splotchy, spittin’ snow as we called it, and there is no doubt snow is coming. I was working dayshift, the senior deputy and FTO for the team. This was my “Friday”, my last shift before a 2-week vacation. The motor home and trailer were loaded and hooked up, and the boys were wound up.
We were headed down south to my in-laws in West Covina for Christmas, then to Glamis for New Years where friends from home would join us. I had taken the Sergeants test a month before, and those of us who had made the final list were told a pick would be made before the first of the year. After briefing I asked the Patrol Captain to leave a message at the in laws if word came down, one way or the other. I gave him the number, then I went 10-8.
I was going through stuff in my head making sure everything was ready for the trip. It was quiet, people were hunkered down for the incoming storm. We were going to leave as soon as I got home from work.
At about 2pm Dispatch asked me to call “Tina” at CPS. Tina was a straight shooter, no BS with this lady. Something was up. I called, she asked to meet at her office to talk about a case. Once there she filled me in. She had very reliable info that there was an infant in an unfit home in town. She wanted me to go with her and check on the baby. After hearing her info it was clear we had PC to check on this baby.
I followed her to the house. It was in an older neighborhood on the outskirts of town proper. Most of the houses were clean, well-cared for and mostly owner occupied, but there were some rentals in the mix too. This house was one of those. There was an acrid, nasty smell coming from the chimney smoke. The residents were tweakers; a couple of early twentysomethings. Most of the other homes looked bright and cheery, lots of Christmas lights and decorated trees in the front windows. Happy people. This place was dark, dank, and uninviting. Crap everywhere in the yard, no one had used the front door in years, and the picture window in front was covered with a sheet. I went to the side door along the driveway.
I had done business before with these people.
I told Tina to stay behind me and I knocked on the door. The female opened the door and gave me the expected reaction when she saw the uniform. I told her we were there to check on the baby. She started to close the door, I stuck my size 12.5 triple E in the threshold and explained the facts for her.
In California, a cop, with PC can enter a home to check on the welfare of a child who might be in immediate danger. Based on the info Tina had provided I had plenty of cause to do so, my previous business with these folks notwithstanding. I told the woman what was going to happen. I was coming in, her call on how that went down. She stepped aside.
The door led into the kitchen. It was about 40 degrees outside, and not much warmer inside. As I walked by the kitchen I looked in the sink. It was half full of cloudy stagnant water and unidentifiable gunk on dirty dishes. It smelled. Bad. I asked where the baby was and where her old man was. Tweaker woman pointed to the bathroom and said, “the baby is in there.” I sent Tina, and followed the woman to clear the house.
Tweaker man was on the couch, sipping a beer. I made the scene safe and talked to the two turds. They were burning dirty pampers in the fireplace, that was the smell we got outside from the chimney. It along with the stench from the funk in the sink permeated the whole house. There was a small electric space heater at the foot of the couch. They had a blanket they were obviously both sitting under until I knocked. They were watching TV and I saw a cable box on top of the set. They had cable TV but no food for the baby. Hell the county would give them food if they got off their asses and asked.
I ID’ed and ran both of them. No warrants, no probation. No weapons in the house. I told them to stay on the couch and keep their hands in plain sight. There was a mutt dog curled up on the couch on another blanket.
Tina called out to me, a catch in her voice. I went into the bathroom and stood where I could keep one eye on the two adults. There was a filthy bassinette in there, and in it was an infant. The baby was under a single filthy towel, and she was cool to the touch, wearing a soiled pajama deal. My blood began to boil. I could smell that she needed to be changed. Tina stuck a warm bottle of formula in her mouth after confirming the child had no known allergies. (Tina comes prepared) and the baby went to town on it. She was hungry. We checked, her diaper was dirty and she had diaper rash and what looked like bedbug or flea bites. You get the picture. The bastards, I thought. Blankets for them, and one for the dog, but the baby...nope. Blood was going good now. Tina could tell.
I went back to the kitchen. I opened the refrigerator and in it there was half a 24 pack of beer, a bottle of Gatorade, some moldy looking cheese, and nothing else. No formula, and there were no bottles or any other feeding gear in the kitchen. The trash can was overflowing with fast food wrappers. By this point I had made up my mind the baby was going with me.
I wanted to put a case together that would be untouchable, and Tina would need a couple of days to get her to a doctor and get a report. The baby, (a girl as Tina had been told, and we confirmed when Tina changed her diaper with one she brought), was my primary concern at that point. I really wanted to hook them in the worst way, but I had to focus on the baby. Tweakers can wait I had to tell myself. Baby first.
I went out to the car, got my camera, and took a ton of photos of the interior of the house, its condition, the empty fridge. The fireplace. I carried a thermometer big enough to see in a 35mm print in my war bag, and I shot a pic of it after it sat for a few minutes on the bathroom counter.
49 degrees. I had what I needed.
I simply said, “I am taking the child and placing her with CPS. I am going to call the DA and will have the necessary paperwork on file with the court by 5pm that will make this an emergency custody order. It is my intent to make sure she stays in a safe place until this case is moving forward and Child Protective Services and the Court says you have a fit home and are straight enough to be parents.” It was obvious that getting straight was not a priority in their lives.
“I am going to be filing felony child endangerment charges, for starters, with the DA. I know both of you. I will be back with a warrant so when you get notice, show up. Or not. I will take great pleasure in arresting you two”. I sat my card on the table with the case number I had pulled.
They never said a word, they didn’t give a damn about the baby other than the money she added to their income.
I took off my Tuffy Jacket, (standard cop jacket of the times, fake fur collar, but it was warm because I had been wearing it all morning) and wrapped the baby in it and we left. I wasn’t ready to let her out of my sight at that point. These kinda calls were one of my “buttons”.. I cranked up the heater. I had one hand on the bottle and one on the wheel. By the time I made the 15 min trip to the office the baby was alert and had color in her cheeks, and she was warming up.
Once we got to the CPS Office Tina was worried about finding foster care so close to Christmas. I thought about that for a minute, and called my wife. I told her what was up…and started to ask her and she stopped me…she said, “Honey, if you have to bring her home, bring her. My parents will understand. Let me know if you are bringing her, I will pick up some things on the way home from work” (My wife is the champion of all cop wives) Tina and her staff listened to my call as they worked on the baby, and they heard my conversation with Cindy. I told Tina we would take her in an emergency. They all cried. The gals had shot a ton more photos for me and them of her condition…building the case. She was so tiny. Then they bathed her and dressed in a brand new little PJ onesie thing the gals had. Tina gave me the info on her, for my report, which she had confirmed with her source. It matched what the tweakers had given us.
Tina found a foster family. We did a conference call to a deputy DA and the DA got a Superior Court Judge on the line, and in 20 minutes we had a temporary custody order on the FAX machine in her office, and one at mine for swings to drop off at the tweaker house.
The baby was safe and would stay in foster care for the duration. Step one was done. I brushed the baby’s now rosy cheek with the back of my hand, felt the new warmth in her. As she finished the second bottle of formula, it fell out of her mouth. Asleep instantly. I finished gathering my stuff.
When I came back over to her she was awake again. She looked up at us. I was sliding my jacket out from under her, now in her fresh pink PJs, and I honestly think she smiled a bit at me. The gals put a swaddling blanket around her as I took my jacket back. I wanted to take a pic of her wrapped in my jacket with the agency shoulder patch showing but I didn’t. I really wish I had.
Then to my office to put my paperwork together. I dictated the narrative of the report. I booked the film. I grabbed a typist from up front and gave her a heads up I would need someone to hold over a bit, told her why and she said “I got this.”
At 5pm I had finished the dictation and had her go to work on it while I did the other paperwork. Sherry was one of our best, she was in tears by the time she finished typing it up, I handed it to the duty sergeant at about 6pm, 30 min past my quitting time. He read it and muttered several obscenities under his breath as he signed it and said, “get outta here, enjoy your vacation, but if this goes to warrant I want to go with you to hook these two”.
As I drove home I tried to get my head to shift gears. It isn’t always easy. Anyway off we went, down 5. All I could think about driving down to LA was that child. Cindy and I talked after the boys were asleep as we rolled down the highway. We even talked adoption. That little girl was on my mind .
regularly.
I got a phone call from the captain after Christmas, before we left West Covina for Glamis. I’d been selected for promotion to Sergeant, and I’d be off to a couple schools when I got back. I would be busy.
We enjoyed Christmas and naturally the phone call about the 3 stripes was awesome, Glamis was fun, and that baby was still on my mind.
When I got back to the office there was a flurry of handshakes and the stripes got sewn on at the cleaners, and the wife pinned the new badge in a ceremony, then off to school, then running swing shift weekends, and I was one busy mofo, buried in new stuff.
I knew the case was making its trip through the system with the DA but no subpoena. In early spring I was about to call the DA and find out what was going on when one afternoon I found he had left a phone message; they were both taking a lower-term plea with joint time. DA said their attorneys looked at the photos in his office and read the reports Tina and I had prepared and decided they didn’t want a judge or a jury to see or hear any of it.
Normal offer would have been a felony but with county time. But...I was pissed, and wanted blood. DA was pissed, Tina and her staff were pissed, and the offer was lower-term or we could all get together and see to it the judge and or jury would be pissed too. With their rap sheets they had it coming. I bugged Tina now and then, she said she’d let me know when she had something definite.
Time goes flying by, a couple years anyway. I am busy, running a shift and the FTO program. One afternoon, when I walked in to my office to start my work week there was a sealed letter addressed to me on my desk blotter. From Tina. Still head of CPS.
I opened it.
And my world changed.
It was a short letter. There was a Polaroid snapshot attached to the letter of a little girl with curly red hair in patent leather shoes, a black skirt and white knee socks and red top, smiling, sitting between a young man and woman on a bench outside Tina’s office.
It reads as follows….
-Jeff,
I wanted to share something with you. Just prior to Christmas in 1993, I called and asked for your help with an infant, case number XXXX. We went there and you removed an infant female from what was clearly an unfit home. As you know the adults took the deal for prison. We have kept in touch about the child as you expressed an interest in knowing what her future was. (Understatement, I was a pain in Tina’s behind, LOL)
The photo I have attached was taken yesterday. This is that little girl with her newly adopted parents, a local couple who were unable to have children of their own. The adoption was final yesterday. She will have no memory of those people, no memory of her life then, no memory of you…but you changed her life, you gave her an opportunity, and fulfilled the dreams of a young couple who are now a family because you saved her from that situation. My staff still talks about the way she was wrapped in your coat when we came into my office, and the way you handled the case. Thanks for your usual outstanding work on this one. You changed the world for her that day. I thought you should know how it mattered.
Thanks again,
Tina.
I almost lost it. Stunned. Overwhelmed. Speechless.
After I had composed myself, I took the letter and headed up to the front office, Sherry, the typist, was now the supervisor of the front office staff had asked me every now and then about the baby as well. It was nearly quitting time for them, and they were all about to head out the door. I walked to Sherry’s desk, she was sitting there and she took one look at me and said, “What is wrong, Jeff”
I couldn’t speak, I just handed her the letter. Sherry read it and broke down and wept. The captain, (the same one who had called me to tell me I made Sgt) was heading out the door. He stopped when he sensed something was up. Sherry handed him the letter, and he about lost it. This attracted the attention of all the gals in the front office.
The cops, the secretaries, all of us were deeply moved.. The captain called Tina. She answered. He said, “Tina, you sent a letter to Jeff, this is his Monday he just got it. I want you to know, there is a 6-4 275lb hard as nails sergeant standing here with tears in his eyes, and a lot of other people in the same shape, I am one of them. Thanks, from him, for this letter. No, I don’t think he can talk right now, but he knows, and that is an incredible gift you gave him”
It took me some time to process this letter. I got suited up and ran briefing and got my guys on the road, and then sat back down at my desk to think about it for a few minutes.
Later I placed redacted copy of it in my resume under a tab labeled “The proudest moment of my career”
I have the original, to this day.
You see, that day, I made a difference. That little girl had a life, a chance, and hope, because of what Tina did that day and what I did. She has parents that loved her as she grew up. She knows nothing of her beginnings. She doesn’t know me; she doesn’t remember that ride in my cop car wearing only a clean diaper and zipped up into my Tuffy jacket, or me carrying her into CPS. She doesn’t recognize that house, she doesn’t know those two pieces of crap who brought her into the world, or how they didn’t give a damn about her. But I remember. I know.
I know.
And in the wee hours of that shift, drinking what was probably the 5th cup of crap coffee, I began to think… we can make a difference in someone’s life…a really huge difference, we can change their world, by what we say and do…and we may NEVER know it happened. Never know what our actions set in motion. And that fact, that we don’t know really isn’t important, because we made a difference.
If Tina hadn’t sent me that note I would have never known. That note changed my world.
1993 was a long time ago. I remember the call like it was yesterday, and I remember reading that letter for the first time and the impact it had on me. Every year at this time it comes flooding back. I used that story teaching new cops about the impact they can have…but ya don’t have to be a cop to make a difference…it can happen at any time, in any place, and you may never know. So think about it the next time you are interacting with someone, and your gut tells you maybe this kid, or adult is worth you giving a moment or two of your time, or that senior citizen who you see that needs a kind word, because…you never know, your actions could change their world. A few minutes of your time might set a change in motion that could be life altering.
I followed, “my little girl” from afar. Not like following her, but followed her story, her life. I know her name, obviously. She did well in school, was a high school athlete and went on to college. Last time I checked she was teaching grade school here in town and Sunday school at a local church. She has married, and her adoptive parents are now grandparents. And she will never know…and she doesn’t need to…but I know, and Tina knows, and some unsung people that labored at desks in a local sheriff’s office, all of whom are now retired…they know.
And now you know.
There is a “drawer” in the file cabinet that is in my brain that is full of “videos” I wish I could erase that just won’t go away. Anyone who has done this job knows what I mean, it is part of the package we get in our, “parting gifts” when we retire, if we are lucky enough to get there.
But ya know what?
This case, this letter, with the Polaroid attached, this was the payback, this is the offset for the misery, this eases the pain in my spine, in my head, and in my heart. If this was all I ever accomplished in that 26 years that went by so unbelievably fast, then it was worth it. If this is the one-day God Almighty made me a cop to deal with, and He put me on that shift on that day to answer Tina’s phone call…. then I am good with that. Because that day changed lives. The life of that little girl, the lives of the people who adopted her…and the lives of her children…that day we altered the course of history.
If Tina hadn’t spent 15 minutes putting that little letter together, and dropping it in the interoffice mail, I would have never known about this.
But the change would still have happened…it was already in the works.
It may not happen right now, but now you know it can happen. Somewhere, someplace maybe around Christmas, maybe on “just another day” …if the little voice you have in your head that sometimes guides you says, “wait a minute, is there something I should do here? Some words I should share, is there some way I can change this?” Take a few minutes and remember this story.
This…this is my gift to you. Just to tickle your thinking at this most special time of year. We all can make a difference. Remember that.
All because of a phone call on a dreary December day. Every year, when the first serious storms of December roll in, and I see that foggy rain that is spitting and gonna turn to snow, I remember….and I am blessed to know what I had a part in that day.
Merry Christmas, RDP.
