P1 First Person: Death and dying

By Sgt. David L. Ferrante
Parma, Ohio Police Department

I have been personally exposed to death with the passing of my grandparents, my cousins, and even an untimely death of a young friend. Those were difficult to deal with as I am certain is the case for most people.

Working as a police officer for seventeen years, I have had to deal with death in a variety of ways. I have seen many sudden untimely deaths that have made me react with feelings of anger, sadness, confusion, and of course sympathy. In this essay, I will discuss how my experiences with death and dying have affected me personally and professionally. I have learned from these tragedies and have been able to apply my experiences to my performance at work.

The first dead body I saw as a police officer was around dinner time on a Sunday afternoon in the early 1990s. I remember listening to the dispatcher sending the ambulance to a house for a “male having a heart attack.” I had CPR training in the academy, thought I would arrive at the male’s house before the ambulance, so I went to help. I ran up to the house, and two hysterical females directed me to the kitchen floor.

A large male about fifty years old was flat on his back and unresponsive. He was not breathing and had no pulse. I began CPR. After a minute or two, the ambulance arrived and took over. His daughter and wife watched as we all failed to revive him. They cried profusely. I did not say anything to them. The paramedics expressed their sympathy in a very monotone manner then went right into explaining the post-mortem procedure with coroner’s office and funeral arrangements. It was as if they were giving directions to the local grocery store. I left the house and spent the remainder of my shift feeling angry at those paramedics for their insensitive delivery of information. I realized that the paramedics have seen these deaths before but to be so robotic and unaffected by the male’s death seemed very callous.

Over the next few years, I responded to several death scenes, mostly older people who died naturally. I was committed to giving full support to the family, showing sympathy, and patiently helping them prepare for their next step. I became familiar with all the area funeral homes and carried their telephone numbers in my pocket. I learned quickly how difficult it was for people to accept that their loved family member was going to the coroner’s office for an autopsy. In turn, I visited the coroner’s office and learned how discreet and gentle they were with the deceased. I felt that I could convincingly reassure family members that their loved one would be handled with caring hands and respect.

I learned to deal with the deaths of the elderly as a police officer and handled the family members with compassion and information. However, I was not prepared for the radio broadcast every police officer dreads, “A baby not breathing.” Around 2001, It was a sunny afternoon and my shift was about to end so it was nearly 3:00 pm. I responded to that very call that I knew someday would come. I arrived just behind the ambulance and ran inside the house. I watched a paramedic holding a small toddler upside down and giving him back blows in an attempt to dislodge something. Unsuccessful, he ran the toddler to the ambulance and rushed off to the hospital. I escorted the ambulance for a quicker response to the emergency room. The emergency room doctors and nurses worked on the child for at least thirty minutes before finally pronouncing the child as dead.

I remember how everyone sobbed. The emergency room closed its doors to the public. I had never seen that before. The mother and the father were in a private waiting area. It took at least another fifteen minutes for a doctor and nurse to regain their composure enough to face the parents with their worst nightmare. The mother screamed and collapsed. The father ran into the emergency room started breaking things, punching walls, and finally was subdued with hugs of sadness by several of us. Several minutes later, they were able to see their child. It was one of the worst days of my life witnessing that tragic loss. I wondered how they would go on. How does anyone say the right thing after such a loss? Later, I cried with my wife and then I prayed. I thanked God for the health of my two daughters. What I learned from this experience was to never take life for granted, to appreciate God’s blessings, and to tell my daughters daily that I love them.

As a police officer assigned to street patrol, I quickly learned to bounce back from horrible death scenes. At times, I would have to handle a DOA, and then respond to a neighbor complaining about the guy next door putting his trash on the curb two hours too early. Was he serious? The grumpy complainant had no idea what I had just experienced prior to being dispatched to his ridiculously trivial complaint. Nonetheless, I adapted to this environment of call variety and learned to maintain my professionalism. It has not been easy.

DOAs became easier to handle-almost routine. Homicides were never routine. I was the first responder on a violent murder of a young woman that was stabbed and her throat was slashed while her child was in the next room. I had to forcibly kick open the apartment door, found the woman dead in the bathroom with blood scattered all over, and then found a crying thirteen month old boy in the adjacent bedroom. I wondered if he witnessed the murder of his mother. I protected the scene for the detectives and quickly made calls to Children and Family Services for the child. I could not imagine the emotional rage the murderer must have felt to commit such violence.

The victim was naked and only a few feet away from a bloody knife. I remember feeling overwhelmed and confused on what do next. Should I start canvassing the neighbors, should I call for other officers to canvass, or should I just stand-by for the detectives for further direction? That is the option I chose. Later, I learned the truly curious and even demented nature of police officers. Seemingly, every unassigned officer wanted a sneak peak before the detectives arrived. I stood guard at the door and refused entrance into my crime scene. I was taught that in the academy. What I was not taught was how to politely tell curious cops to take a hike. So basically, that is exactly what I said to them.

If I angered a few, and I am sure I did, too bad! Soon after, I was thanked by the detectives for not letting any other officers inside the apartment.

On March 4, 2004, a date I will never forget, I had to deal with death in a completely different manner than ever before. I was dispatched to a call of an elderly female who was down inside of her residence and not responding to the Meals-On-Wheels food delivery person. I was on patrol several miles away so I immediately activated my emergency lights and siren. I was travelling above the speed limit on a clear five lane roadway when suddenly, a small Ford failed to stop for the stop sign on a secondary roadway just ahead of my cruiser. The driver failed to react to my lights and siren and continued in front of the path of my cruiser. I evasively moved left to avoid a crash but the Ford kept coming. We collided just as I ran out of roadway. My front-end struck the front driver’s side of the Ford. My cruiser caused the Ford to spin away. My cruiser then went through a bus shelter and came to final rest against a utility pole. After the initial impact, I did not see anything due to the airbag and airbag dust. I was knocked around but conscious.

The paramedics and fire department responded and cut the cruiser open to free me from the wreckage. They transported me to the emergency room. At just about the same time, different ambulances transported the elderly driver and his elderly wife to the emergency room. I remember being examined by the emergency room doctors and feeling fine, I told them to release me from the neck restraints. When they did, I looked to my right and saw an elderly woman surrounded by medical personnel. She was being aggressively maneuvered on the hospital bed, tubes were being placed inside of her arms, and there was a genuine urgency in the air to save her. I was released shortly thereafter with only a few bumps and bruises.

I was driven home by another officer. I was home only minutes, and it was all over the news. There was video of the crash from my cruiser-cam. Everything else in the cruiser was practically destroyed. Because the leaders of the police department thought the video depicted proper action by me, they released the video to the media in an attempt to protect me from being unfairly persecuted by reporters and the public. When this was released, the fate of the Ford’s occupants was not known. A few hours later, my chief and the director of public safety arrived at my house to tell me that the elderly female passenger had died. The driver was injured but was in satisfactory condition. I was given a few contact phone numbers for counseling and told to take some time off work. In the days that followed, I felt sadness and grief just as if I lost a very close family member.

As a police officer, I was mentally prepared to use deadly force to defend my life and the lives of others in the line of duty. I was not mentally prepared to handle the accidental death of another as the proximate result of my actions. Thankfully, I sought counseling through a wonderful police chaplain. He was a Lutheran and had earned degrees in Theology and Criminal Justice. He was really a Godsend. I began reading the bible more than I had ever before. I discovered that God loves cops, and he protected me on March 4, 2004. Laws are violations of wrongdoing just as the Ten Commandments and the Old Testament provide guidance for behavior. I learned that I do God’s work as one of his soldiers or servants of justice. I have reinforced my purpose and spirituality based on my biblical readings, for example this passage refers to one who is in authority, “For he is God’s servant for your good but if you do wrong, be afraid, for he does not bear the sword in vain. For he is the servant of God, an avenger who carries out God’s wrath on the wrongdoer” (Romans 13:3-4). Perhaps this is one of the reasons why I survived, to continue to serve God.

Also part of my healing, we went to visit a local police officer that had been involved in numerous shootings and had gone through some of the same rush of emotions I was experiencing. He was able to relate to me and understood what I was going through. He told me, “I watched the video. There was nothing more you could have done. Now, it’s time to realize that sometimes bad things happen to good people.” He continued to explain that I could have easily been killed in that crash but God spared me for a reason. I began to sense that my mission was not complete. Through continued prayer and reinforcement of that mindset, I convinced myself that I had more good work within the police department to be done.

I returned to work about three weeks later. I was investigated and cleared by an outside agency but that was only a small part of my healing. I learned not to blame myself. I learned to sleep peacefully, get up for work with purpose again, and to give the best effort to doing the best job I could do. It has not been easy, but I have moved forward. In the event any officer is ever involved in a similar tragedy, I will be there to support that officer. After successfully managing my professional and personal life after that crash, I am confident I could provide fraternal support and understanding.

Two years later, a friend (an officer with another department) was working dayshift. He unfortunately crossed paths with a suicidal male. The distraught male was exiting the side door of his house and stood in the driveway. As that male faced other officers, a shotgun was observed in the male’s hands. Officers ordered the distraught male to drop the gun; instead, he pointed it at officers. Fearing for their lives, my friend shot the suicidal male who later died. Once the shotgun was recovered, officers learned that the shotgun was not loaded.

For several days, my friend second guessed himself. He felt sadness and mourned for the distraught male. The distraught male committed suicide by cop. Over the next few weeks, I provided friendship, support, and companionship to my friend and colleague. I introduced him to the police chaplain who helped me. We sat together over the course of several days and discussed the importance of our careers. I reiterated the importance of his life saving action. My colleague’s intervention prevented anyone else from getting hurt as part of the distraught male’s potential for collateral damage to others. In the weeks that followed, he was happy to be back to work. He is still a very close friend and is doing well. I was happy to be there for him.

Dealing with death and dying has been difficult. I have experienced the deaths of the elderly, the death of a child, and the deaths of middle aged men. I learned to handle those events as a compassionate professional, to provide support. I have been to suicides and drunk driving crashes that resulted in death and wondered “why?”

I have learned from those that I will never know why. People do what they do sometimes because of an addiction, because they are unable to cope, or sometimes without just cause at all. No one really knows what is going through the mind of others.

Lastly, I have to come to terms with myself. I had to deal with the death that was the result of my tragic cruiser crash. I will never know why that driver did not yield or stop for my emergency lights and sirens. At this point in my life, it does not matter. What matters now as a police officer, a father, and a mature adult, is that I give the most to this honorable profession that I am capable of giving.

Sometimes “bad things happen to good people,” and we have to keep going.