A story in the local newspaper featured the swearing-in of a young man on the Mansfield Police Department. In addition to comments from the Chief of Police and the Mayor, the fledgeling officer remarked that he'd wanted to be in law enforcement since he was "a kid".
Most little boys who are now my age felt that way, too...unless, of course, they were afflicted at a young age with that terrible disease known as HDS.
Hose-Dragger Syndrome.
"I think I look forward to all of it", he's quoted as saying. Well, we all did when we started the journey Officer Hout is about to begin. We all had that innocent, bright-eyed outlook that we were going to be helping people...which we did.
The trouble is, at least for the majority of rookie officers, no one talks of the toll the evil in this world will take on the psyche and spirit.
No one tells you about the senseless violence and death, about horrific cases of child or elder abuse, about suicides driven by lost loves or burdens too heavy to bear. No one tells you that you'll see bodies mangled in fatal accidents and then have to notify family members of a loved one's death, about the fear that courses through your veins as you race to a call involving shots fired with victims down and the whereabouts of the armed suspect being unknown...or being shot at yourself. No one tells you about the spousal abuse you'll see, about the woman who keeps going back to a bad man until, finally, he kills her. About the overdose deaths, which are much more prevalent now than when I stood behind a badge.
No one tells you about the physical toll, either, about the injuries you'll suffer or develop. The muscle pulls, torn ligaments, fractures, cuts, bruises, dislocations and contusions. No one mentions being exposed to extreme heat and cold, or unseen toxic substances, about needle sticks while searching a drug addict, about the vomit, blood, decomposing bodies and excrement you'll see and smell.
No one tells you how jaded and cynical you'll become before finishing your career, how, eventually, just about everyone you come in contact with on the street is a liar until they prove otherwise. You'll never understand why people lie to the police when the truth would save them.
No one tells you about the internal sorrow you'll carry for having to witness the extremes of the human condition, about certain cases or incidents haunting you even decades later, about knowing someone is responsible for a death, even though it couldn't be proven in a court of law.
No one tells you about the job becoming monotonous, about the loathing you'll develop for certain calls...or coworkers, who somehow slipped through the cracks of the hiring/training process and are wearing the same badge as you, though they'll certainly not ever put themselves in danger to protect others, including you.
No one tells you about the rage you'll feel when one of your own brothers or sisters is proven to be a dirty cop, or how the public will paint you with the same broad brush just because that crooked officer worked with you.
No one tells you about the habits you'll assume, about never sitting with your back to the door in a public building, about watching everyone, especially their hands, about endlessly looking at license plates as you travel; no one tells you your head will be on an almost constant swivel while you're out somewhere with your wife and family, or about the unrelenting, unexplainable-to-the-public need to have a handgun with you almost all the time.
No one tells you about the 'left behind' feeling you'll have the further you get into retirement, when nearly the entire department has turned into faces you don't know anymore.
Evan Hout does have one advantage, though; his father-in-law is MPD Sergeant Steve Blust, a man I worked years with and have huge respect for. I'm sure Steve will offer guidance when asked.
To Officer Hout I say, good luck; you'll need it, because you will be working in a far different world than I did.
