by Eric Ferkenhoff and James Janega, Chicago Tribune
Most days, Jack Felker, a retired Chicago police officer who spent seven years as a counselor, can be found at roll calls, speaking to street cops as part of the Police Department’s push to open a dialogue on suicide and depression in the ranks.
His efforts gained poignancy after the Dec. 29 suicide of Delvin Williams, a 29-year-old South Side officer with two years on the job, who shot his wife seven times before pointing the gun at himself. It was the third suicide of a Chicago police officer reported last year.
Felker recently told a morning roll call that in 2000 “60 police officers [nationally] died in gun battles or some kind of shooting incident. Three hundred eighteen police officers killed themselves.”
In 2001, the number was even higher: more than 400, according to the National Police Suicide Foundation. The numbers may be understated, experts say, because in many cities investigators try to make police suicides look like accidents to protect benefits for the dead officer’s family.
Even so, the numbers are startling, yet no one listening to Felker in the basement room of the North Side’s Belmont District seemed too surprised.
Felker explained that most cops, caught up in the macho police culture, won t talk about being sad or depressed despite plenty of studies warning that police officers are far more prone to depression and suicide than the general public.
To change that, Chicago’s department plans to train its 13,500 officers and supervisors to better spot suicidal tendencies in themselves and other cops.
The department hired Felker to address roll calls full time, and it began sending all supervisors and field training officers to special seminars about depression and suicide.
The department also is producing a video on the subject that will be shown at roll calls, which means that for the first time every officer in the department will undergo some training on the subject.
The idea is to get cops on the streets, in the squad cars, to be able to spot trouble before it’s too late.
Although there are plenty of exceptions, police officers most likely to commit suicide tend to be males in their 30s who are having job-related, financial or legal problems or who are involved in troubled relationships. Some are on disability, and alcohol use often is a factor.
The first and most difficult step in heading off potential suicides is getting officers to open up about their feelings.
“Feelings are something in law enforcement that historically you never got involved with,” said William Powers, the department’s head of personnel.
Powers, who also is a licensed clinical psychologist, said police departments have been silent for so long about the subject that even with the new efforts it likely will be years before the culture opens up.
Impact of 9/11
Although it may be too early to judge how the Sept. 11 terrorist attacks will affect the psyche of street cops, some experts believe it is even more important to get the message out now.
“The pressures are already there, and they’re high. With 9/11, it’s added,” said Robert Douglas, a police chaplain for the union serving Baltimore city cops and the head of the National Police Suicide Foundation.
The National Institutes for Health set the general suicide rate in the United States at about 12 per 100,000 people, but several surveys in the 1990s indicated that the rate among police officers in the U.S. has been roughly twice that.
Those statistics, and a greater understanding of the biochemical causes of depression, have led to a sharp change in how police departments are addressing the long-ignored issue.
Among others, the Illinois State Police, New York Police Department and U.S. Air Force have added peer support efforts to their employee support programs in recent years.
Douglas said Chicago is taking important steps, but he questions whether the message can get across in short roll-call sessions, which may last 15 minutes.
He said he has submitted his own proposal to Chicago’s department, including longer, more intense training. He is waiting for a response.
Message must be repeated
Powers said Chicago has decided that repeating the message over and over in roll calls is more effective than a one-time training session.
"[Departments] can do everything right, and a guy can still kill himself because he’s so determined,” Powers said. “You have to get them before they grow comfortable with the decision to die.”
St. Michael’s House, an independent counseling center designed for police officers, was set up in Chicago in 1997.
It was among the first such efforts in the country. Although it is not officially affiliated with the department, it was considered the first big step for the city in addressing an issue that was getting greater attention in the news media and in scientific circles in the 1990s.
A year later, in 1998, following four suicides by Chicago officers, Supt. Terry Hillard made a personal plea, taping an address that was broadcast to every officer in his department.
Hillard discussed the most recent death and asked whether the department and its officers had the know-how to recognize when their colleagues are hurting to such a point.
Hillard’s candor about such a sensitive subject caught officers off guard.
“It was the naked lady on the elevator,” Powers said of the unusual address. “It jolted people, got their attention.”
From then, a series of initiatives began taking shape, including warnings and instruction at the Chicago Police Academy for recruits. The efforts are being stepped up this year to make it easier for cops to talk about the stresses and miseries of the job and the emotional problems they create.
Distrust of bosses
In the last year, Felker has visited every watch in every police district and specialized unit twice, carrying the same basic message: “Nobody will be fired for being suicidal, nobody will be fired for being depressed.”
It is a point that needs underscoring, he said. Many cops don’t trust department bosses, and they doubt any counseling would be kept confidential, despite a general order on the books to protect their privacy.
Not seeking help, Felker tells officers, can quickly lead to trouble: Shooting your television, shooting your drywall, shooting through the floor of your condo into someone else’s ceiling, pistol-whipping your wife or husband, shooting at the ex-girlfriend’s car.”
The speech lasts about 10 minutes, and Felker knows not everyone pays attention. But he figures that at least the message is being sent.
It used to be that cops who sought help were routinely stripped of their police powers and had to turn in their badges pending the outcome of mental evaluations. All this, Powers said, only deepened the stigma. Because Chicago cops own their guns, the department usually didn’t take the officer s weapon.
Now, Powers said, the department rarely strips officers of their badges. Rather, they are put on medical leave pending an evaluation--a leave that is typically given a cover, such as the officer having the flu. Guns still are only taken in the most extreme cases.
In the video to be released in the next few months, officers are told that counseling is available and confidential. It will feature doctors and experts who explain the dangers in waiting too long to seek help and the folly in trying to cover up psychological problems for their partners or colleagues.
“It is an occupational hazard of police,” said Dr. Jan Fawcett, who is head of psychiatry at Rush-Presbyterian-St. Luke’s Medical Center, a coordinator of the Chicago police anti-suicide efforts, who is featured in the video.
“It’s a military kind of attitude, and in a military kind of situation, you re not supposed to have any weaknesses.”