National Police Week- My Experience

Deputy Chris Curtice, Fresno County Sheriff’s Office

This was my first one. 

It only took me 28 years to get there but, thanks to the Central Cal COPS chapter, this past May I was fortunate enough to experience the 29^th National Police Week and COPS National Police Survivors Conference in and around Washington D.C.  To say that it was awesome wouldn’t be doing it justice.  The families, the cops, the wide range of emotions, the venues, it was all unbelievable.

I flew into D.C. late Wednesday night so my experience really started the following morning when I arrived at the Hilton Alexandria Mark Center in Virginia, (the COPS host hotel).  There were cops everywhere.  All willing to help with whatever you needed.

When I went inside to register, there were so many people and so much going on that it was all a little overwhelming at first.  I received my white colored name tag that identified me as co-worker of a slain officer and started looking around to see what this conference was all about. 

One of the first things that struck me was the blue, gray, and yellow name tags.  I learned that the colors signified the surviving family members and their relationships to the slain officer.  There were so many.  It almost made me feel like I wasn’t worthy to be there.  That thought was quickly put to rest when these surviving family members started asking me about my story.     

Now if you’ve been in law enforcement for any length of time, you probably have a story to tell.  I did.  And I wanted to talk about my friends and coworkers who had made the ultimate sacrifice.  Like David Graves, one of the first deputies I ever rode with.  A big man with a big smile.  A guy that couldn’t understand why I wanted to ride patrol as a reserve every night instead of being out drinking beer and chasing girls.  In 1982, he was killed by a drunk driver one month before I sworn in as a full time deputy. 

Or my friend Dennis Phelps.  We were in the academy together and became roommates just after we graduated.  After a few years of being in law enforcement, he quit to become a railroad engineer.  After 20 years with the railroad, he decided he wanted to be a deputy again and went through all of the required training to be recertified.  He was shot to death during a vehicle stop in 2002… during his first week back on the job. 

Or Joel Wahlenmaier.  A solid deputy and good friend of both my wife and I.  Right now, I can’t even find the words to describe what a good man he was.  He was shot to death earlier this year during the service of a search warrant less than two months before the National Memorial.

I told my stories to people several times over the week.  But I also heard other, unbelievably emotional stories.  Like the officer killed in the line of duty, whose mother had won a city election just the day before.  On the day of his death, while other family members tried to comfort her, a florist arrived to deliver flowers from her son, congratulating her on the election win.  The family members were able to intercept the florist before he got to the front door. 

Or the father and son who both worked for the same small department.  The father, who was also the Chief of the agency, allowed his son to take his place on a specific detail.  The son was killed during the detail. 

Or the father of officer who, after his son was killed in the line of duty, went to the academy and eventually took his son’s place on the same department.  There were so many stories, from family members, friends, co-workers, and I wanted to hear them all.

The Survivor’s Conference had so much to offer to everyone who attended.  There were meetings, sessions, trainings, activities, and support services for family members, friends, co-workers, adults, and children… absolutely everyone.  And you could choose to do as much, or as little, as you wanted to. 

One of the sessions I chose to attend was a “Co-worker debriefing” session.  Now I won’t get into what the class was all about except to say that I definitely got something out of it.  One thing that did stick with me was the process of grieving vs. the process of mourning.  The reason it stuck with me is because I saw how it played out with some people, myself included, over the course of the week.  In very basic terms, I learned that the grieving process starts immediately and is internal.  The mourning process basically lasts forever, (at varying levels), is healthy, and is part of the healing process.  In my mind, the mourning process was the reason we were all at the conference.  To share stories, emotions, and experiences with others who have experienced similar tragedies.  To mourn together.  This was all part of the healing process and I experienced it in some form every day I was there.

Tent City.  While extremely enjoyable, the Survivor’s Conference in Virginia was what I would refer to as the “healing side”.  By contrast, D.C. was definitely the “Party” side, and Tent City was it’s headquarters. 

Tent City was “Cops Only”.  It was made up of several vendors, (all under tents), with merchandise geared towards law enforcement.  Equipment, patches, pins, T-shirts.  You could spend a lot of money there… and I did.  The largest tent in Tent City was smack in the middle… the bar.  It was a lot of fun and definitely a place to let your hair down and bond with other officers.   

The two biggest events during the week were the Candlelight Vigil held on Thursday at the National law Enforcement Memorial in Washington D.C., and the actual Memorial Service held on the lawn of the U.S. Capitol on Saturday.  When I first arrived in D.C., Central Cal COPS President Leon Isaac insisted that I experience the bus “convoy” from the host hotel to the memorial.  At 4:30pm, myself and hundreds of other survivors boarded the buses… a lot of buses.  All white, clean and polished for the trip to the Vigil.  I didn’t realize how many buses until we got on the freeway.  There were buses in front of us and behind us for as far as I could see.  We were escorted, lights and sirens blaring, by motor cops from all over the country.  I’d never been Code 3 in a bus before and it was unreal to see the rush hour traffic all stopped by motor cops at each freeway entrance.  We never stopped.  We drove across the Potomac River and right into downtown D.C.  As we pulled up to the memorial, I looked out and saw thousands of people already there.  For me, this turned out to be one of the most emotional moments of the week.  A uniformed officer climbed on the bus and said, “I want to welcome you all to the National Law Enforcement Memorial and Candlelight Vigil.  You don’t have to worry about anything here.  You’re all among family and we will take care of you.”  I don’t know if I’ve ever in my life felt more of a bond with every other peace officer than at that moment.  We then exited the bus and were all escorted by uniformed officers to our seats in front of the stage.  It took almost a couple of hours but they escorted everyone that had come over on the buses. 

When the Vigil started, there were speeches by several people and musical tributes.  One obvious emotional moment was the Roll Call of officers killed in the line of duty in 2009.  However, the most impressive part of the Vigil was the lighting of the candles… thousands of lit candles.  It was truly an awesome sight.

The following day, I returned to the memorial and located the names of the five deputies from my Office that have been killed in the line of duty since I became a deputy.  David Graves, Jeff Isaac, Eric Telen, Dennis Phelps, and Josh Lancaster.  I can’t really describe what my feelings were upon seeing the names of my friends on the memorial.  I had seen their names before on the California Peace Officer’s Memorial but this was somehow different.  It might have been the fact that their names were with so many other names.  Thousands of names on the memorial.  It was interesting to see the different ways law enforcement agencies paid tribute to their officers on the memorial.  There were small CHP pins beside the names of all fallen CHP officers.  Flowers, photos, signs, equipment, pieces of patrol cars, motorcycles, etc.  It was pretty impressive and gave me some ideas on how to pay tribute to our deputies in future years.  The term, “We will never forget” means even more after experiencing the memorial.  I later learned that all of the “stuff” left at the memorial is later picked up and saved for a future museum to be built under the site.

The Memorial Service at the Capitol was quite a sight.  It was an honor to be there in uniform and support the friends and family members of last year’s fallen officers.  I was also privileged to be one of several officers, standing at attention, who lined the path for the families as they walked on to the capitol lawn area. 

Again with the different speakers and music tributes.  It was quite a moment to watch the different families, from all over the country, lay flowers at the base of the stage.  Husbands, wives, fathers, mothers, sons, daughters.  I wondered how they learned of their loved one’s death.  How did they tell their children and other family members?  What were they feeling right now?  My thoughts then turned to the possibility of my own line of duty death, and how my wife, (who is also a peace officer), would handle it.  What stories would she have to tell our now seven month old when he was old enough to understand?  How would my mother, sister, and brother handle it?  I pictured them all walking up to the stage to lay a flower down.  Then I started picturing myself, carrying my son, walking up to the stage to lay down a flower for my wife.  What would I tell him about his mother when he was old enough to understand.  A lot of thoughts ran through my head. 

One of the more impressive sights at the Memorial Service was all of the officers, from all over the world, in their dress uniforms.  Again, I felt a real brotherhood with the other peace officers and there was plenty of time, before and after the service, to bond with them. 

I know that a lot of you that will read this have already experienced it.  Obviously, there are other things I got to see and do while I was there… the parade with all of the bagpipers and vintage law enforcement vehicles, the Vietnam and WWII Memorials, the Museum of Tolerance, drinking with other cops at some good Irish bars.  I just wanted to share some of my experiences. 

I know that a lot of deputies I work with will make the trip next year to pay tribute to Joel.  I hope they’ll also read this and get a little idea of what to expect.  I hope that when they go, they’ll realize that there’s so much to do at National Police Week, and that they should attempt to experience as much as possible.  The Virginia side and the D.C. side.  The healing and the partying.  The crying and the laughing.

To others, especially law enforcement officers, you need to experience National Police Week at least once.  Don’t wait 27 years like I did.  Go as soon as possible. 

This was my first one.  It definitely won’t be my last.