Editor’s note: This essay is part of “Stories from the Street,” a Police1 series featuring first-person reflections from officers across the country. These essays are about the lived experiences and moments that changed how officers think, lead and serve. If you have a story to share, we’d love to hear from you. Submit your story here.
By Sergeant Sean Fuerstenberg
I’m in my 28th year on the job, 17 of those as a sergeant. I’m staring down retirement, and I’m not expecting a parade. I’ll likely get the popular cake and coffee send-off, and then it’s done. And that’s OK. Cake and coffee are how it should be, because not every department or municipality can give extravagant goodbyes due to ever-tightening budgets. What I am expecting, because I’ve seen it over and over again, is to be forgotten. Quickly.
I’ve watched it happen to good people, respected people, officers who gave everything, who bled for their agency, who mentored generations of cops. Not one of them got the long memory they expected. Six months out, their names rarely come up. A year later, it’s like they were never there. That’s the truth no one tells you when you’re gearing up to walk away. The silence is real, and no one is immune to it.
There’s a common saying that gets passed around: “Forty-five minutes out the door and you don’t matter anymore.” I don’t know who created that quote, but whoever it was really nailed it.
| NEXT STEPS: Secure your financial future: A first responder’s guide to money management
Your rank doesn’t matter, neither do your awards
Let’s get this part out of the way. I’ve been decorated. Commendations, letters, plaques, you name it. I’ve led big operations, handled ugly calls, backed my trusted teammates through the worst shifts of their careers. But that doesn’t buy you anything when you leave. No special place in the memory of the department. No eternal gratitude.
I’ve seen chiefs fade into complete obscurity. I’ve seen lieutenants, K9 handlers and SWAT team leaders, men and women who were cornerstones of their departments, go utterly silent after their last shift. The job keeps moving. It doesn’t look back. If you’re thinking your rank or reputation makes you different, hear this now. It doesn’t. No one is the exception.
The fade comes quicker than you think
One week, you’re the go-to person for your squad. You’ve got every radio channel running through your ears. Your phone is lighting up with calls. You’re briefing, coaching, leading. The next week, you’re out. And the quiet hits like a punch. The text threads you were part of continue without you. Your name stops being mentioned at shift change. The guys and gals you trained are busy training someone else. You swing by the station six months later, and someone is drinking out of your old coffee cup and parking in your spot. And no one is doing anything wrong. It’s just the reality of the job. The show must go on, and it does.
Retirement is supposed to be the end — but for many officers, it’s just the beginning of a quieter, harder battle. In this Policing Matters podcast episode, retired deputy chief Jason Kates opens up about the unexpected emotional toll of leaving the job, the silence that follows, and what officers and agencies can do to make the transition healthier.
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I’ve watched good cops spiral
This part no one warns you about. You think you’ll just enjoy life, maybe sleep in, fish more, and take care of the house. But then you realize this. You’re no longer relevant in the way you once were. That realization has wrecked more than a few retirees I knew. Guys who had plans. Guys who had it all figured out. But when the calls stopped and the structure disappeared, so did their sense of relevance. Some spiraled into depression. Others numbed it with alcohol. Some couldn’t take the silence and begged for part-time gigs just to feel useful again.
These weren’t weak people. These were strong, capable, respected cops. But they weren’t ready for what happens when the job no longer has a place for them.
I’m not waiting around to be remembered
Here’s the hardest pill to swallow. That heartfelt thank you that you think is coming, the one that says, “You made a difference,” might not show up the way you expect. And if it does, it’ll likely be a quick handshake at a meeting and a certificate that ends up in a drawer. But that’s OK. I’m not measuring the worth of my career by who circles back months later to check in. I’m not waiting for closure to come from anyone else.
The truth is, the job keeps going. The world I walked away from is still turning, and the people still in it are focused on surviving their own grind. I’ve made peace with that. I’m not bitter. I’m realistic. I’m choosing to accept it now on my own terms rather than be caught off guard later. Because I didn’t do this job for applause. I did it because it mattered. And that’s enough.
So here’s what I’m doing instead
I’m preparing. Not just with my pension and benefits but emotionally. I’m reconnecting with people who never cared about my badge, just me. I’m finding purpose outside of patrol cars, radios and court subpoenas. I’m getting used to being just a man again, not “Sergeant So-and-So.” I’m not angry. I’m not bitter. I just don’t want to be caught off guard like so many I’ve watched before me.
Final word to the next one out the door
If you’re nearing retirement and thinking, “They’ll remember me,” pause. Really pause. Because the truth is, they probably won’t. That doesn’t mean your career didn’t matter. It just means the job doesn’t work that way. It never has. I’ve seen it more and more. People walk away convinced they’ll be remembered forever. But the truth hits fast. The machine keeps moving. The job goes on. It always does.
While you’re in it, give it everything you’ve got. Show up. Serve with heart. Mentor those coming up behind you. Lead well, even when no one is watching. But when it’s time to leave, do it with pride and let go of the idea that the job will follow you. It won’t. That’s not failure. It’s just how the profession works. The world keeps turning. The calls keep coming. Someone else will answer the radio.
So when the time comes, take a deep breath. Close that locker one last time. Walk out knowing this. You gave what you had. And that’s enough. Let the job go. It’s already letting go of you.
| NEXT STEPS: Secure your financial future: A first responder’s guide to money management
Tactical takeaway
Retirement isn’t the end of your story — it’s the test of whether you’ve built a life beyond the badge.
How are you preparing yourself — not just financially but personally — for the day the radio goes silent? Share below.
Police1 readers respond
The response to Sgt. Sean Fuerstenberg’s essay was immediate and deeply personal. Hundreds of officers, retirees and chiefs wrote in to share what the article meant to them — from how they’re planning for retirement to how they’re finding new purpose after the badge. Below is a selection of their reflections, representing just a portion of the voices that came forward. Continue the discussion and share the article with your peers via the Police1 Facebook page.
Planning and preparing for retirement
- I joined a police department after I retired from a 26-year career in the Air Force. The Air Force gives you decent retirement along with medical coverage for life and for the most part, only a computer at the Air Force finance center remembers you. Before and after retiring from the police department, I wrote over 20 articles for two police-related magazines and published a book. Also, after retiring, I gave short talks to community groups now and then. I even returned to policing at the age of 76 at the request of a city mayor and police chief and did my final patrol at the age of 82. I guess you could say I prepared myself for the day the radio went silent, but I also prepared myself so I wouldn’t go silent.
- I left the job with 30 years and 4 months. My advice is to have a plan in place to replace the badge. Have another job lined up if that’s what you want. Plan to travel, go places, do things that you never could do because of the job. Turn that hobby into a new passion. For me, it was my leather work. My leather work became my passion. You will survive retirement just like you survived everything else the job threw at you. Just go out and find your passion.
- Get your vitamin D levels checked. I having had my bloodwork done shortly after I retired, my doc said I had the lowest level he had ever seen. Low vitamin D is associated with depression.
- Simply disconnect. No big party — just retire with your family. I saved five days of leave and went on vacation with my family. Stay in touch with your true PD friends, but simply disconnect and pack up your PD career in the closet and move forward. Retirement has been awesome.
- There is much truth to this story. I’m a retired K9 handler who had 31 years of dedicated service. You have to not only have a financial plan for retirement but a personal plan. I do miss the folks I worked around, but not the job. I got back into running by joining some run clubs and started rucking. I still have a 12-year-old Malinois who keeps me busy with walks as well. Please, just don’t lay around and do nothing. Do things that are enjoyable to you that the job didn’t allow you time to do.
- I prepared from day one. At the end of shift, I left the badge and job behind and went home to be “me” to friends and family. I kept my circle of friends outside the job. Distance between work and life. Best advice I ever received: “Don’t let the job be your life — let the job pay for your life.”
- Important to have something to do. I’m blessed to have little grandsons and a church family.
- I’m preparing by doing several things that are significant for the day the radio goes silent. I’m glad I went to a retirement seminar. Two words that stick in my mind were what a speaker said: “Stay active.” Thank God, financially I’m good with my pension. Personally, I exercise regularly, eat healthy, and get enough sleep. Traveling will be a part of my staying active. I’m actively volunteering with several nonprofit organizations. For me, retiring doesn’t mean I get another job full-time or part-time in law enforcement or any other type of job. I want to enjoy my retirement 😊
- Retirement comes easy with a plan. Plan on being hired. Plan on being aggressive. Plan on always giving your best. Plan on advancing in rank. Plan on doing the job for your community and your family — not for your superiors. Plan on safely reaching retirement, and most importantly, plan on returning to the world you enjoyed before law enforcement. Don’t make it harder than it is. Law enforcement is just a stepping stone to achieve what you want to achieve. Don’t forget where you came from before law enforcement — get back to that easy-living lifestyle. Did over 29 years and sticking to my plan. Besides, dinosaurs look horrible in uniform no matter how good of shape we stay in. Let your hair grow again and enjoy life!
Identity, purpose and emotional transition
- This hits home for me. I was planning to go next fall and, due to a number of factors, did my last tour two weeks ago. I have been planning my retirement since the day I came on — 31 years and two weeks before my final tour. No idea what the next chapter will look like. It was a good run, but I too am looking forward to the sequel. For the moment, the silence is somewhat deafening.
- So true. You miss the camaraderie and your phone ringing with someone asking a question.
- I agree with the article 100%. The only other thing that I’ve experienced is dreaming about work — good or bad — all the time, and I’ve been retired three years. Still dealing with some of the issues that were discussed in the article. Excellent article.
- I worked in the police force as a station chief for 35 years. I recently retired. I feel a huge void, a sadness, because I always loved my job. I won medals and was honored a few times, but I feel forgotten by the department. The court still calls me to testify about the crimes I investigated and the arrests, and that makes me feel good. I feel like an active officer. But I feel like the department should pay more attention, because to criminals, we will always be seen as police officers.
- You can’t let your whole identity be a cop. Don’t change — just be yourself. I always said, “I’m a cop because of who I am; I’m not who I am because I’m a cop.” This article is 100% true. Forty-one years in law enforcement was the correct choice for me — best job in the world. I’ve been retired for five years now and still have people reach out to me, both law enforcement and civilians. It feels good to be remembered, but as I said, I was a cop because of who I am, and I haven’t changed. I absolutely miss the job, but life moves on.
- After retiring, I had to still believe that I make a difference. I found security work. I had to. I was born to protect people. Protection is what I know and am good at. It is still a calling for me. I have been working in law enforcement and security for practically my whole life. It’s what I do. I will continue to do it, hopefully, for the rest of my life.
- Great article. Your legacy only lives on with the knowledge you pass on to others. My end is near, and I’m extremely nervous about what to do with my time. Work is all I’ve ever known.
- Excellent article. I’ve been retired for 12 years now after 30 years of city police service, and the author hits the truth. I was prepared because, in my mind, the job was never about me. When it ends, you’re left asking, “Who the hell am I?” I know — and the folks I worked with know — that I left it all on the field, and that’s what really counts in service. Have a plan. I work part time for a small community now, teach at the academy, do contract training work and run a small training company. Honestly, I often feel busier now than when I was a full time cop. I do miss it at times, but as was already said: The badge does not define you. The man behind the badge does. I’m feeling my age now, and it may be time to happily hang it up for family and hobbies. And yes, I’ve been all but long forgotten by my PD.
Support systems and community
- I retired in January 2025, and this is never more true. I truly believe police officers and all first responders need to be included in a state or federal insurance program, such as veterans with the VA. First responders encounter hundreds, if not thousands, of traumatic events. I learned to deal with life outside of law enforcement because I purposely had friends who weren’t cops and didn’t hang out with them outside of work. I’m still in touch with some, but I always made my family first.
- This is a great word and encouragement to share among fellow officers. As a chaplain in law enforcement, this is an area where I wish more intentional conversations and preparations toward thriving after retirement would occur. Thankfully, people are starting to give voice to this reality of “life after committed service,” and I pray that it will continue to gain more traction.
- Been retired since 1997. I’ve influenced a 10-year-old kid who grew up to be the Chief of Police, was an FTO to our current Sheriff. I’m currently the Board President of Crimestoppers. There are several ways you can keep in touch with some of your old LE friends and make some new ones too. I’m 71, still working.
- A lot in my department felt the same, so we started a retired MPD association. We meet a few times a year, talk about the job, catch up on the news of fellow officers who weren’t there physically or who passed. Keeping connected and remembering when we were on the job. Everyone is the same — no rank, no bringing up issues that you once had with someone — just a time to connect and not be forgotten.
- Stay in touch with other retirees who you worked with. They’re the ones who will remember you — shared good times and bad.
Institutional and structural needs
- As a retired 30-year USAF veteran (law enforcement) and retired 10-year municipal police officer, my experiences are similar. With my military service, I was fortunate enough to have attended the TAP services. The Transition Assistance Program is offered to military members preparing to retire and, although too short in duration (one week) when I retired in 2010, it has its merits in preparing members for the transition to civilian life. It’s doubtful municipal agencies have it in the budget to send an officer away for the program, but an in-house transition assistance program may be more useful than a gold-plated watch or framed service pistol. Finally, any transition away from a lifetime of service — where it’s normal to feel you’re owed some level of gratitude — the reality is, whether military or law enforcement, you are replaceable, and the department will move on without you.
- Here’s something else to consider. It is now well-known psychologically and medically — those in high-stress situations, the endocrine and hormone levels change. Keep your health in check. Make sure you’re watching your hormone levels. If you were in a lot of work such as the Marshall Task Force, Drug Task Force, K9, SWAT — you’re no longer going to have stress calls once a week, let alone daily. That causes major depression. So stay healthy, seek medical treatment. I would even recommend getting hormone levels checked routinely the first few years out.
Reflection and gratitude
- It isn’t the recognition that comes from within the organization that counts — it’s the lives you’ve touched and changed for the better. There is life after the badge, but find solace in knowing you gave your all and did it the right way.
- I am a chief of police and have been in the career field for 33 years now. I am starting to wind down and considering retirement. This article says it all, and it is factual. I have already seen the light turn in different directions and understand that it is just the nature of the job. Thank you to whoever wrote this for sharing. It truly hits home.
- OMG, every word you said is 💯percent true. I’ve said those same words to people but never put them down on paper. I always said they should prepare us for what’s to come after the job. Great read, thank you.
- Law enforcement was in my blood; many of my family members were in it. It’s a tough career with many ups and downs, but also very rewarding. Looking back, I wouldn’t change a thing and would do it all over again if I could.
- In the first year of my career, I was injured at work and given a week off by the doctor. I tried to go back to work the next day to avoid causing more work for my team. My captain took me into his office and laid it out to me. He told me I was a small cog in a very large machine that would continue grinding along no matter what. He told me that any member or members, up to and including the Sheriff himself, could disappear today and the department would adapt and move right on. Then he sent me home. I never forgot that speech — it really got me ready for when I retired 30 years later.
- If you made a difference in your officers’ well-being, you do not go out the door and out of mind. I have been retired now almost five years; most of my last squad still reaches out. Maybe I’m the exception, but I also know the flip of that coin — command forgets faster than it should. But I know I made a difference to those who mattered most.
- I did 38 years — 33 on the SWAT team, 23 as a Sgt. My wife also did 28 years. After two weeks of retirement, I’d moved on. The only issue was hearing her talk about the place until she retired. I realized early that no matter how impactful you were, you were just a cog in the wheel. The machine moves on — love retirement.
- This article (and the comments in response) is a great help. To know that there are others experiencing what you are experiencing (“shared experience”) is definitely therapeutic. Retired 12 years and still trying to find my equilibrium (and, yes, still regularly having nightly dreams about the job). But this article reminds me to be thankful for the people and purposes I do have in my life and motivates me to start investing more deliberately and fully in them. I guess I need to see those people and organizations as my new calling. Thank you.
About the author
Sergeant Sean Fuerstenberg is a 28-year veteran of law enforcement and currently serves as a police sergeant with the Grafton (Wisconsin) Police Department. He holds a bachelor’s degree from the University of Wisconsin–Oshkosh and is a 2023 graduate of Northwestern University’s School of Police Staff and Command (Class 540). He has served in patrol and multiple supervisory roles, including Field Training Supervisor, K9 Coordinator/Supervisor and Department PIO. He has also been a certified DAAT and Professional Communications Instructor, a use of force reviewer, a constitutional law instructor at the college level, and was honored as Officer of the Year for his county in 2016.
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