“It is not the critic who counts: not the man who points out how the strong man stumbles or where the doer of deeds could have done better.
The credit belongs to the man who is actually in the arena,
whose face is marred by dust and sweat and blood,
who strives valiantly, who errs and comes up short again and again, because there is no effort without error or shortcoming, but who knows the great enthusiasms, the great devotions, who spends himself for a worthy cause;
who, at the best, knows, in the end, the triumph of high achievement,
and who, at the worst, if he fails, at least he fails while daring greatly,
so that his place shall never be with those cold and timid souls who knew neither victory nor defeat.”
- Theodore Roosevelt, 1910
The Vancouver Police Department announced the release of the 2013 Vancouver Police Dog Squad Calendar earlier today.
Funded and produced by the Candy Anfield Memorial Foundation, created by retired Sgt. Mike Anfield, all proceeds from sales of the calendars are donated to the BC Cancer Foundation and the BC Children’s Hospital Foundation.
Cst. Candy Anfield lost her valiant battle with cancer in 2004.
Last year, we donated nearly $15,000.00 to these two foundations as a result of 2012 calendar sales, and the VPD Dog Squad thanks all who supported these very worthwhile causes.
There were many volunteers who helped with this effort, including Derek Cain, a Vancouver police officer who donated his time and skill with a camera to shoot all the photos.
Please visit the Vancouver Police website for where to buy one – they are $10.00 each.
I will keep you updated on when/where we are planning to have a street sale sometime next month.
Today was the 2012 Police and Peace Officers Memorial Day, where we take a take a moment to remember those who have given their lives in the line of duty.
But it’s so much more than that.
We must acknowledge the sacrifice of officers and their loved ones, the impact on those left behind, and how those whom have paid the ultimate price have done so, so the rest of us may learn, and survive, a similar situation.
This is not a topic I come to lightly.
My father’s friend and team mate, Sgt Larry Young, was shot and killed in the line of duty in 1987. The image of my father’s slumped shoulders when he received the news will forever be emblazoned on my memory.
19 years later, I witnessed the death of one of our finest police dogs, Nitro, as he tried to apprehend a car thief.
I spent a full day in criminal court, testifying as to the car thief’s actions and Nitro’s untimely death. I remember reporters in the courtroom, and one reporter’s sympathetic smile when I finally set foot out of the witness docket.
But the reporter didn’t, couldn’t, understand, even though she clearly wanted to.
This wasn’t a news story.
This was someone’s life.
So every time an officer makes the ultimate sacrifice and dies in the line of duty, I am snapped back to the devastation left behind.
No officer starts their day thinking they may not be going home at the end of shift, but it is a reality every officer needs to look squarely into the face of.
It CAN happen.
So to all officers – be prepared and repeat the following words so often touted by Sgt Betsy Brantner Smith as a talisman against those who would do us harm:
While working early this morning, I was stopped at the side of the road in an area well known for its drug dealers and those struggling with addiction.
The passenger side window of my unmarked/blacked out police SUV was partially down, and I was surveying the goings-on in the block when a woman called out.
“There you are!” she said, as she shuffled over to the window.
There are several old-timers still cruising around who know me from my days walking the beat, so I craned my neck to see who she was, but I didn’t recognize her.
She moved up to my window and halted. I was curious but cautious, so I simply watched her as she realized who she had approached.
“Shit. You’re a cop?”
“Yes,” I replied, making sure to maintain my dead-pan expression.
I wanted to let loose with a sarcastic remark, but thought it was not the right time nor place as this woman was so clearly expecting someone else – her hunger for her fix was almost palatable, and I felt bad about even considering the sarcasm of my first response. Who was I to second guess this woman’s need?
“Oh,” she said, “I thought you were my dealer.”
She couldn’t get away from me fast enough, and a little part of me broke as I watched her leave.
Where have we, as a society and a community, gone wrong?
I walked the beat in the Downtown Eastside from 1995 to the early 2000′s. I made dozens of drug arrests, helped those with addiction, put predators behind bars and hunted those who would prey on others.
The first eight years of my career were spent policing the Downtown Eastside and surrounding areas, but in 2012, not much has changed.
Not much at all.