| James Ragland: Behind the blue, fear's a fact of life 01/10/2001 By / The Dallas Morning News I got a letter a few days ago from Kimberly, the wife of a Dallas police officer and mother of two little boys.
It was one of many letters, phone calls and e-mails I received after writing about the tragic ripple effects of Irving Officer Aubrey Hawkins' death, allegedly at the hands of the seven escaped Texas convicts.
Many of you called to ask what you could do to help. There were calls like this one, from an elderly Oak Cliff woman. Despite being on a fixed income, she wanted to contribute to the memorial fund set up for Officer Hawkins' 9-year-old son, Andrew, and his wife, Lori.
"I don't have much," said Ruth Brown. "I'm a senior citizen, but I'll do what I can. ... I have affection for law enforcement people. If it weren't for them, we wouldn't be able to walk down the street."
Talk about perspective. As the saying goes, "You don't get to be old being no fool."
Risks everywhere
Yet no matter how smart or wise you are as a police officer, if you patrol the streets of America – and not just urban ones, either – you run the daily risk of being hurt or killed. It may be a bullet. It may be a knife hidden in a boot or up a sleeve. Or maybe it's a speeding car that ignores a wailing siren and blaring lights.
Which brings me back to Kimberly's letter. She eloquently explains the deep-rooted fear that the wife or husband of a police officer lives with each day. "My biggest fear, besides losing one of my boys, is having to tell my sons that their father isn't coming home," she said.
I'm sure her husband feels the same way, because Kimberly is an officer, too. "As a police officer myself," she wrote, "I have seen many of my friends and co-workers buried over the last 11 years. The most painful aspect of these needless deaths is the young children left without a daddy."
As you may recall, Officer Hawkins last saw his son at dinner on Christmas Eve. Minutes later, as the officer answered a robbery call at an Irving sporting goods store, he was riddled with bullets, then run over.
The last figures I saw indicated that 151 officers were killed nationwide last year. Texas led the nation, with 14 officers slain in the line of duty.
For a police officer, even the most routine call can turn tragic. That's part of what's so scary about the escaped convicts still being on the lam after almost a month.
You never know where or how they might surface, which corner they might be around, which car they might be in, which rock they might be under.
Thinking of the children
When I read Kimberly's letter, I thought about the double danger she and her husband face. And I thought about her two little boys, 6 and 8, the joy of her life.
"I have ... people tell me that I should not have had children because something could happen at work and it's not fair to the kids," she said. "I do not need to tell you all of the arguments against that belief. I can promise you that having children made me a better officer and person."
She and her husband try to shield the boys from the ugly side of their work, but sometimes that's easier said than done.
"My boys are afraid the bad guys are going to shoot their daddy, or their friend's daddy," she said. She tries to reassure the boys, telling them the police eventually hope to catch the escaped convicts and send them back to jail.
At that, her 6-year-old replies, "They were already there."
Naturally, Officer Hawkins' death gave her pause, making her wonder how her sons would deal with the loss of a caring father.
"How does that just stop one day?" she said of the grief.
Ruth Brown, the Oak Cliff woman, offered this advice: "I would tell them to lean on Jesus," she said.
Amen.
James Ragland can be reached at 214-977-8270 or at .
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