The real 10 percent

-- Kristofer Geiger

Though I am relatively new in the field of law enforcement, I have handled some pretty tough calls already. Granted being in the Air Force as a military police patrolman, I don’t see the same volume of calls as a civilian police officer. But I still think about a few that happened while on assignment in the Air Force in Colorado.

My Air Force tech training had minimal coverage on handling attempted suicides. Mainly, they showed us some pictures of completed suicides. There wasn’t much training when I got to my base as well.

So, it was trial by fire when I was in Colorado where I responded to five attempted suicides and one completed suicide, all by military personnel.

My first night on patrol, I had to respond to a jumper. I also responded to another jumper; a couple of us talked him down from the ledge. One guy cut his wrists with a dull razor, which just caused a couple scratches and a little blood. Another attempted suicide tried to overdose on medication. The one completed suicide shot himself with a shotgun.

The most dramatic, though, was an attempted suicide by a guy who was depressed, who had a history of cutting himself and was known to carry knives. I had cleared a traffic stop and was writing my probable cause statement when the call came in. I was dispatched to the building and met the caller. I was joined by another dispatcher and we both noticed a guy walking up the stairs and called his name. The guy stopped, looked back at us and kept walking. I went up to the top of the stairs toward him and called backup.

At this point, I was told to treat him as an armed individual and that backup was en route. I drew my gun and yelled for him to stop and to show me his hands. He stopped about 11 yards in front of me, put his hands in the pocket of his sweatshirt, then turned and faced me. I repeatedly told him to show me his hands, but to no avail.

He kept telling me he wanted to die, to let him go so he could kill himself. I told him that once I could see his hands, we could talk about what was bothering him.

He started to pull his right hand out of his pocket and took a couple steps toward me. My flashlight caught the glimmer of a knife he was holding. I yelled to drop the knife or I would shoot, moving my finger on to the trigger. Thankfully, I didn’t have to fire at him.

Seeing the gun pointed at him, he dropped the knife. He then showed me both his hands. I ordered him to go down on his knees, crossing his feet facing away from me. At this point, my first backup squad arrived. I went up to cuff him during this time. Once we had him detained and in the back of a squad car to go to the hospital, my flight chief talked to him.

He asked him a few questions, but the only one that I wanted to know, I asked: “What were you going to do with that knife?”

His reply was chilling. “I was going to draw it and charge you, forcing you to shoot me.” After all this, the guy received the help he needed, but is no longer in the military. The Air Force now takes into consideration that more service members have suicidal thoughts and might act on them. To help, they give more training to people that might deal with this, particularly the military police.

I vividly remember another call I received— and that was the first time I had to perform CPR in the field. I was on a traffic stop when the call came in: there was an unconscious child of a master sergeant living in base housing. I was nearby and made it there with my partner within a minute of the call. I remember going into the house to the master bedroom and seeing the father attempting CPR on the child. As I entered the room, he handed me the child, a 10-month-old boy.

For a second, I was shocked. I remembered all my refresher classes for CPR, how we joked around, not thinking we would ever have to do it, that it was just part of annual training. But looking down at the child, I had to run through my mental notes and remember how to administer CPR. I started. It only took a few seconds, but it seemed like an eternity. I gave this child CPR for a few minutes, until the fire department arrived.

Once the first paramedic came into the room, I handed the child to him and walked outside. I remember sitting down on the fire truck bumper and then hearing the great sound of a child crying. I felt overjoyed. Later that night, I went up to the hospital on base to check on this little guy and was told that he didn’t suffer any brain damage and would recover completely. The calls aren’t all so life and death, however. The fire dispatcher dispatched all fire and police units to a fire in base housing. Smoke poured out of the basement. I was sent to block the road by the fire hydrant the engine was hooked up to. Firemen made entry into the house and went downstairs. There was a little “boom” and then the chief ordered the water cut; the fire was out. The fire marshal approached us and told us what happened. A teenage guy in the basement started a small fire to impress his girlfriend. It got out of hand so they called the fire department . When the nozzle guy started going down the stairs to extinguish the fire, he heard the boom sound and a bunch of sizzling. The water heater burst from the heat, flooded the basement and put out the fire.

When all is said and done, our jobs aren’t like what you see on cop shows. It is 90 percent boredom and 10 percent excitement. But when that 10 percent happens, you have to be ready and know what to do. Next time you see a police officer, tell him/her thanks for what they do; it might just make their day.

I am a staff sergeant in the Air Force working full-time at the Air Reserve base in Minneapolis as a patrolman. I am in First College in the Individualized Degree Program with a focus of Law Enforcement Leadership.