Bad Memories and Bass Fishing

I ran into a sheriff's deputy yesterday I hadn't seen since I retired in 2013. We chatted for a bit, catching up on family and other things when the subject turned to his retirement date.

Jeff can retire in two years.

Two years may seem like a lot of time to a young person but, when you get older, time seems to fly past. Jeff, of course, is greatly anticipating the end of his career; as a matter of fact, he's already bought himself a 'retirement' gift: a bass boat.

Jeff likes to fish. I hope he can spend at least a couple of decades reeling in some big ones.

That brings to mind another guy I worked with at Mansfield PD. When he retired, he was sixty-seven; he died six months later. The tragic sadness of that can't be put into words.

The field of law enforcement takes a toll on the mind as well as the body. Cops tend to not eat right or get enough sleep. Stress plays its part, too, as well as the things they see and encounter which the average citizen can't begin to comprehend. That stuff sticks with you until the end of your days, permanently scarring your psyche, leaving memories you'd like to flush from your brain but can't.

Jeff talked about an incident in which he was involved, one that I remember well. While I won't go into detail, my pal was trapped behind his cruiser one night for four hours while a mentally-unstable man with a rifle, who'd already killed two people, took potshots at Jeff and his fellow deputies.

Jeff will never forget that night. Ever.

But, two years from now, maybe he can shove it deep into the background of his mind as he's fighting to bring in a monster largemouth bass.