I trained one officer from New York, who had never touched a real firearm before he came to us, but worked hard in the academy and afterwards, and became an excellent shot. He also proved to be an excellent instructor. When a slot on the firearms training staff opened up, I highly recommended him for the position. We taught together for nearly ten years both on the range and eventually in the academy. We worked patrol together on Midnights and Evenings until a Training Coordinator slot opened up on Dayshift. I was offered the position and wasn't the least interested in leaving midnights for days and working side by side with the Chief. I recommended him and he moved to days. We stayed in touch and met for breakfast as I came off shift and he would go on at least once a month. Of course, I didn't see nearly as much of one another unless we were running a range evolution or teaching in the academy.
Just before I moved to Fish and Game, I recommended him as Chief Firearms Instructor and suggested he chose his assistant. Shortly after I left, I heard he had an incident occur that disrupted his life for a few months, and one of the gossips on Dayshift brought my name in the mix. I had no idea he had run into trouble at home, or any of the facts, but she stirred the pot. By the time I found out about it, the seeds were sown, and our close relationship had been damaged. When he found out who had really caused the damage, I had moved on and we never really got back into our routine. We never met for coffee again, or met for lunch. We had been closer than brothers and I always meant to pick up the phone and call.... but life moves fast, I was learning the new job at Fish and Game then my position at State Police and before I knew it, a decade had flown by. Then two.
Yesterday, I got a call from another of the recruits I had trained. This one had worked his way all the way up to Sergeant.... then moved to the fire department in the County and now has more than 25 years on the job. He wanted to let me know that my "Brother" was very ill and I might want to call. We talked for a couple hours, catching up. This guy died, that guy died, this guy moved to Colorado, that guy to Florida.
When the call ended, I got the number and called my old brother. His wife answered, and said she remembered me, and that her husband had spoken of me fondly over the years, but was too proud to make the call, and now it was too late. He was asleep, and had been for four straight days. They didn't expect him to awaken. His priest had been by. She said it wouldn't be long, a day or two.
I still call my other patrol partner a couple times a week. He lost a leg to diabetes two years ago, and we talk for an hour or so each time I call. He calls when he gets bored as well. WE stay in touch. Every now and then his wife will call, and say, "Call him, he's depressed." I call.
Here is the PSA part. If you have been thinking, "Maybe I should call old so and so." Don't wait. If you keep putting it off, tomorrow might be too late.
