By Jeff Adelson
The Times-Picayune (New Orleans)
NEW ORLEANS — Mark Bott still listens to the police radio.
Though no longer a sheriff’s deputy, he tunes in every day to Washington Parish dispatchers reciting incidents and addresses and to the buzz of deputies keeping the peace.
A year ago, he was fulfilling his dream as a St. Tammany Parish sheriff’s deputy on the beat. Now, sitting in a comfortable chair in his home in Franklinton, with pills and an electric heating pad to ease his pain, Bott often calls in, checking up on the deputies who became his family during a dozen years of service in Washington Parish.
A parish away, St. Tammany Deputy Marylin “Mary” Mayo broadcasts codes over the police radio, directing deputies to myriad thefts, traffic accidents and other incidents. For Mayo, it’s not just a job. It’s a calling that she passionately believes in, but must soon surrender.
As she maneuvers her wheelchair out of the dispatch center in Covington, she recalls that around this time last year, she was running on the beach with her fiancé.
For the past year, Bott and Mayo have been coming to terms with a pair of accidents -- separate but forever tied by an inconceivable twist of fate -- that left each of them permanently disabled and killed Bott’s partner, Deputy Hilery Mayo, and Mary Mayo’s fiancé, Sgt. Linden “Beau” Raimer.
The tragedies, occurring days apart, shook a St. Tammany Parish Sheriff’s Office that had not seen a deputy killed in the line of duty in almost three decades.
“It was almost an unimaginable week,” Sheriff Jack Strain said. “For all of us involved it was one of those things that defied logic. But true professionals move through that.
“The families who went through that, they obviously paid the ultimate price,” Strain said.
--- In the line of duty ---
Bott, 42, was already a 12-year veteran of police work in Washington Parish when he joined the St. Tammany Sheriff’s Office.
Three weeks on the force, he was working his way through field training and riding alongside Hilery Mayo on patrol near Folsom on June 9, 2007 when reports of a body on the side of Louisiana 21 near Abita Springs came in.
While responding, Mayo lost control of the car on Louisiana 40 and slammed into a tree on the side of the rural highway. He died at the scene.
Bott’s foot and shoulder were crushed, leaving him with a loose bone near his neck that still floats, separate from his collarbone, and pokes at the skin. A shotgun mounted behind the deputies came loose in the crash, striking him in the back of the head.
Bott said he initially believed he would return to work after recovering from the accident and from persistent pain that at first was attributed to a pulled muscle or whiplash.
“A couple weeks later, he was polishing his stuff, getting ready to go back,” said his wife, Kaye Bott.
But the pain only increased. Every time he turned his head, it felt as if knives were being pounded into his brain, Bott said. Soon, even simple household chores like cutting the lawn became too painful.
More tests revealed serious problems with disks in his spine, problems that could require surgery and, potentially, spinal fusion to fix.
Bott said one specialist put the issue bluntly: “You will never police again.”
--- Suing Sheriff’s Office ---
The following months were both painful and frightening, as he and his doctors discussed back surgery and Bott feared becoming addicted to the pills they gave him to dull the pain.
Last month, Bott filed a lawsuit against the St. Tammany Parish Sheriff’s Office, its insurance carrier and the estate of Hilery Mayo, an action his attorney, John Smith of Baton Rouge, described as a precautionary measure. Though Bott said the Sheriff’s Office, where he still has friends, has been helpful to him throughout his recovery, Smith said the suit was necessary to protect Bott in the future to ensure benefits from an agency that is not required to carry worker’s compensation.
The timing of the suit was aimed at meeting the one-year statute of limitations under state law, Smith said.
“This pain is with me for the rest of my life,” Bott said. “Twenty years from now, is Sheriff Strain going to be there? Is he going to take care of me? I need to take care of myself and my wife until the day we die.”
Officials from the Sheriff’s Office said the department does not comment on pending litigation.
--- More sorrow for deputies ---
Bott was trying to come to grips with his injuries and the entire Sheriff’s Office family was mourning the death of Hilery Mayo when tragedy visited the department a second time within a week.
Mary Mayo, who was working as a dispatcher, and Raimer, a corporal on patrol, were vacationing in Florida when they heard about Hilery Mayo’s accident. Raimer was a close friend of Hilery Mayo, who was not related to Mary Mayo, and the couple had planned to invite him to their wedding.
The couple returned to St. Tammany and were in a miles-long funeral procession for Mayo on June 13 when a violent thunderstorm erupted as they neared the Covington grave site. Strong winds toppled a pine tree onto Raimer’s patrol car, crushing it.
Raimer died at St. Tammany Parish Hospital; Mayo was taken to Tulane Medical Center with severe injuries that left her paralyzed from the chest down. Doctors there induced a coma after telling her of Raimer’s death.
The Sheriff’s Office posthumously promoted Raimer to sergeant. He was buried days later, with deputies lining Jefferson Avenue in Covington in lieu of a funeral procession, while Mayo was still in a coma.
After an uncertain month, Mayo underwent surgeries and treatments at Tulane before being transferred to Atlanta’s Shepherd Center, which specializes in rehabilitation for patients with extreme spinal injuries. She spent nine weeks there.
In the wake of the injuries suffered by Mayo and Bott, the Sheriff’s Office added flexibility to its occupational injuries policy, Strain said. Deputies previously were allowed to take 480 hours of paid leave when injured, but the new rules allow that period to be extended, in part to acknowledge the time needed for proper diagnosis and rehabilitation, he said.
--- Hanging up their uniforms ---
Mayo said adjusting to a life in a wheelchair has been difficult. She has spent the past year marking small milestones and celebrating simple tasks such as relearning how to put on her shoes.
“It’s a challenge for me to put a shirt on, simple things that a 2-year-old can do,” Mayo said. “I’m having to relearn how to do all that again. There are so many little things like that I think people take for granted, and I think I did as well.”
Moving from a life dependent on caregivers and family, Mayo has recovered her independence in the past year, heading to rehab three times a week and returning to work as a dispatcher.
However, Mayo said she plans to take disability retirement soon and leave the force, both for financial reasons and to focus on her rehabilitation.
Though back on the job, Mayo said she has been unable to bring herself to ride in a Sheriff’s Office car or put on a uniform she still associates with Raimer.
“Living without Beau and having to go on without him, that’s a lot tougher than being stuck in this chair,” Mayo said.
For Bott, giving up the uniform was a more difficult task. Facing the likelihood of surgery on his back, it was only a few weeks ago that he passed on his old equipment to a former colleague.
He kept two items for himself: the tattered uniform that was cut from his body after the accident, and a Sheriff’s Office badge, still banded by the black ribbon commemorating Hilery Mayo.
Copyright 2008 The Times-Picayune (New Orleans)