Yep, we LEO’s do those kinds of things from time to time as part of the job. I am thankful that I only had to give few death notifications during my career.

Here’s one for example:

Sheriff Earl D. Lee retired sometime around 1992. For the first time since 1973, a new Sheriff had been elected in Douglas County, Georgia. Sheriff Tommy Waldrop had retired from the Georgia State Patrol. He had been post commander at post 4 in Villa Rica, Georgia. He lived in the Winston community of Douglas County. When Sheriff Waldrop began his administration, he naturally wanted to re-organize the department to his way of thinking. One of his changes was to take my beloved “141” from me. All Sergeants were to be given new radio numbers in the 50s. I was given “54”. We didn’t have badge numbers, as most Metropolitan Police departments do. Deputy Sheriffs were given departmental “radio numbers” to identify themselves. Some counties may have been different, I don’t know. My new number was 54. Lt. Cain would get a giggle on quiet nights. With no traffic of any kind on our radios for more or less an hour, the car-to-car channel would crackle. My Lieutenant would say over the radio with a loud whisper… “Car 54 where are youuuu”?

“Car-54, Where Are You?” was an early 1960s TV sitcom. Cain always got a good giggle out of that one. During one of those nights on D.U.I. task force duties, I heard “105 54” over the car-to-car channel. It was Lt. Cain calling. “Go ahead, Boss “. “10-25, me at the S/O”. It was about 10:30 that night. I arrived to find Lt. Cain in the radio room. As I entered, the last thing I expected was to be given a death notification call. This was my second time to have been given that task. Lt. Cain had a teletype print out in his hand. It basically requested help from the Georgia State Patrol (Troop).

It said something to the effect of, “Today around 17:30 an accident involving a person named Mr. (?) occurred on Interstate (?). The subject died from injuries sustained in the accident. I am still at Grady (hospital) and will be here for a while. Could your department notify a Mrs. (?) of the death of a Mr. (?) at an address on Chateau Lane.”

That was in the Leisure Acres subdivision off Lee Road. Lord only knows how many notifications Troopers must give during their careers. I knew what was involved in giving notifications. My first one was in Rebel Trails subdivision which was just down the road from my home. I can still point out many of the suicide homes, murder locations, horrific automobile crashes, and other places where untimely deaths took place. I generally keep that information private, although occasionally I have shared some with my wife. PTSD? 100%. I suppose it comes with the territory. Doesn’t really make it any less heavy, though.

The Douglas County Sheriff’s Office began our Traffic Enforcement Unit in 1985 from a Fed/State grant, and by the time the 1988 D.U.I. Task Force grant was in full force, we were basically given the responsibility of death notifications when on duty.

We went to the address on Chateau Lane. When we verified the numbered address, we noticed that lights were still on at that late hour. We then started to look over the neighbors houses. We saw a next-door neighbor’s house with their lights still on as well. We chose the most luminated home and parked. I knocked on the door gently. Not a real cop knock. This wasn’t that kind of visit.

A man came to the door, and we asked if he knew the neighbors next door and pointed to their house. He said yes. I asked, “Are you friends with them”?  He said both their first names and said that they were friends and go to the same church. The man looked puzzled but was pleasant at that late hour. He was still dressed. The neighbor’s wife then came to the front door as she was putting on her robe. We asked could we come in. We were invited in and took a seat on the couch. Both Mr. and Mrs. Neighbor were staring at us with puzzled looks on their faces. I began by telling them straight out Mr. (?) died this afternoon in a car accident on Interstate (?). The reaction I saw was utter disbelief and confusion on both their faces. They looked at us in total shock. When it looked like they came out of their daze I continued. We then asked the couple if they would mind coming with us to tell Mrs. (?) next door. She may need some supporting friends. The husband said immediately that he would go with his wife, nodding beside him. I asked if they would call their pastor to come when he can. And they did.

Then came the hard part. We four walked through the yards and up onto the front step. Her lights were still on. I again knock lightly. The wife pulled back a curtain, made an expression of recognition, and opened the front door. Seeing two deputy sheriffs and her neighbors, she opened the door with a puzzled face. I asked could we come inside. She motioned us in and we all took a seat. She still looked confused. There was no sign of children being in the house. Thank you Lord for that one. I just came right out with it. “Mrs. (?), your husband was involved in an automobile accident this afternoon.” She started to interrupt with a question, but I continued, “Mr. (?) did not survive.” She started crying and softly said, “He’s never been this late before.” She tailed off with uncontrollable tears. Both the neighbors knelt down to her and clasped her hands as all cried together. What was “I” doing?

A law enforcement officer (LEO) shall maintain His/Her’s composure at all times. Stiff upper lip as they say. I was solemn but still stoic knowing that there was nothing I could do to help this poor woman. I’m sure I looked uncaring and distant, while quietly saying to myself, “I can handle it. Keep it together.” I wanted to cry for the poor woman’s soul that was suffering in her moment of hopelessness and helplessness. I was trained to control my composure at all times. Always look like you are in control and ready to help. A few moments later, the doorbell rang. I went to open the door; it was their pastor. He immediately took a knee with the others and began prying and crying. We had not completed our mission yet. We still had to give the information of who to contact with phone numbers, hospitals, investigating trooper, etc. When the praying and crying had subsided to quiet sobbing. I knelt down to Mrs. (?) and took her hand and slightly squeezed. Is there anything I can do to help you more?  She thanked us. Yes, she thanked us in her time of sorrow. I handed the State Patrol contact information to the pastor. And still holding the wife’s hand, I looked her in the eyes and said, “I’m sorry.”  That’s all, just that I was sorry. As I walked through the yard again towards my car, I was glad that I brought my cruiser on the call as well. That way I could go hide in a dark parking lot with my thoughts and emotions. Alone. Where a LEO doesn’t need to be.