I
have seen more crime in a year than most sworn members of this
department will in their career. That's just the statistic. I wonder
how long I can continue to see society's worst.
How
often the eyes of a new officer are so obvious to me. They flash with
a kind of excitement that is between curious and the 'can I take it'
look I must have had when I first got here. After a few years I
became accustomed, but not numb to what I am surrounded by. It took
me a while to realize that the calm pallor I now exhibit is actually
noticed. I hear, 'you see a lot of this..' as they look back from
direct eye contact with me to the scene. Not until recently did I see
my self as the calm one. In my thirties that would not be the case.
The only thing that gets me wound up now is if I miss lunch.
There
are scenes so horrific that management has had to ask if I'm okay
after viewing the photo's I bring back. As though they are coming
back from being their I am looked at with a kind of horror and
wonder. How odd that I feel the need to be reassuring. I share my
short version of philosophy and thank them for their concern. My eyes
are on to the next assignment.
I
don't always find dead people with their eyes closed. Often the look
is a relaxed vacant one. As though they saw the other side and knew
it was going to be okay. I found it creepy at first and now find it
reassuring. They seem to me to have seen the mercy that lies ahead
forever and they just stepped over to the other side, willingly,
happily. They leave the shell behind with this world and no regrets
go with them.
When
I take photos of victims of violence they give me looks that range
from, 'when will this be over' to 'please don't hurt me too'. The
first is a kind of anger to resolution that is hard to describe. I
would say it is a frightened glare, way off into the distance. The
second ranges from looking down and away to staring at me, eye brows
arched up to their maximum, very close focus. Children stare at me,
trying to read what I might do. Those are looks I regard as normal.
What wrenches me still is when the child is smiling because pictures
are a happy time. Even with older wounds healing over and sometimes
skin that reflects malnourishment they are as happy as you might
expect them to be if they were going to Disneyland.
Through
my own eyes the witness to life’s last pain has been remarkable. I
have them set into the future and on a bigger prize. That thought
alone keeps me focused, when I need to, on the toughest job I have
ever loved.
I
think the look I have had the hardest time with is in the eyes of an
inexperience officer who has had to use the ultimate power to defend
their life. Even the coolest ones know that without the training and
teamwork they are surrounded by the deadly duel could have gone
against them. It is then they look down the long path of
investigation that will involve them wholly. It is a worried,
thousand yard stare into an unknown distance saturated by fog. Not
even the slightest detail to let them know if the path is windy, or
straight and down. No one will ever get the fear of the unknown
trained out of them. It's why we call them brave.
History
may show some glint leftover of my life. For every thousand words my
shutter is worth they are digitized and left for posterity to
remember, if it wants too. I have loved ones, I do what I can so they
have the best of what I can be to view in their minds eye, when they
remember to.