Heroes – 3

Our last story in this series from neighbor Ken Fischer involves having coffee, but not the congenial visiting kind. More like the hunkered-down-for-a-long-tense-wait kind. Tense and dangerous, with lives at stake. It would take an audacious move, a heroic move, to protect the innocent.  

By Ken Fischer

From 1980 to 1985, I was a member of the Lakewood SWAT team. Among the most critical and sad calls we covered was a barricaded gunman just inside Edgewater. This was beyond their capability as they had no SWAT team. We deployed at about eleven o’clock PM to a three-story apartment building.

In a top floor corner apartment a crazed man was holding his two young daughters after shooting and killing his wife in their presence. This action was the end point in a bitter custody dispute.

Upon our arrival, we were briefed and my reflection was that this operation had a whole lot of negative elements and it was getting worse. We could not evacuate the two bordering apartments and there was access to them via ceiling crawl space. In addition, the suspect had a 270 degree vision with window access to a kill zone. He could pick off any desired target. We would have to close off blocks to his north and east. Manpower would be stressed. Troops would be held over and possibly more would be called in. This would be a long siege. It would take a whole lotta coffee….

It was at this point, as assignments were being made, that the commander was informed of a highly irregular occurrence which gave us a huge break.

One of the first responding agents to back the two (and only) Edgewater officers was Agent Tom Ritchie. Tom held immense respect among his peers as a “people person,” who continually defused hot situations, treated all with respect, and was firm in his religious faith. Tom was a giant of a man with a slow methodical manner. This served him well as a juvenile detective, DARE officer and a variety of coaching and teaching assignments. He was rarely flustered and he maintained his “country” personality through all his assignments.

This one would test him to the max.

Without direction and after a breathless briefing by Edgewater units, on his own, Tom broke perimeter and went to the suspect’s door. He knocked and announced himself. After a brief face to face exchange, Tom convinced the suspect to release his daughters.

Most of us would term this suicidal. It was way beyond any tactical consideration. Negotiators would be in awe over this approach and this policy/procedure violation could result in severe discipline up to and including termination. To our amazement, he got it done prior to SWAT or supervisor arrival.

In the process, the children had to step over their mother’s body which lay in the entryway.

The call ran through the night. Wild mood swings resulted in shots fired at us down the hallway. This coupled with pathetic weeping to negotiators. At daybreak, fatigue or remorse impelled him to give up.

The arrest was textbook. As we moved him to a waiting squad car, a woman approached asking about her sister inside (the second victim of this tragedy). She did not know. One of the detectives directed her to an area better suited for hearing really bad news.

You try to never be surprised in this work. Many times folks say, ”you’ve seen it all.” In truth, you never see it all and this ending had a terrible twist. As the suspect was being put in the transport vehicle, he calmly advised that we should respond to a south Jeffco apartment. He gave the address as if he were reading a label. There we would find another deceased woman – his girlfriend. He had shot her earlier prior to returning home to Edgewater.

Tom Ritchie never got a medal but only tacit acknowledgement for his effort that night. This action was exceptional, but that fit right in with this man who served and protected those less fortunate. Of course it could not be encouraged or repeated under policy, but I can say for myself and his legion of partners —

Well Done Agent.

This is Part 3 of a 3-part series about heroes. Part 1, Part 2.

Ken Fischer holds a Master’s Degree in Education from the University of Iowa and was involved in organizing Iowa’s first Law Enforcement Training Academy. He was on the SWAT Team in the Lakewood Police Department, and retired as a Senior Sergeant. A longtime resident of Southern Gables, he is an experienced woodsman and now runs a firewood business.

Heroes (Part 2)

The topic of heroism has always fascinated us. We look for examples to emulate in doing great things. The quarterback or home run champ?  The firefighter carrying a child out from a burning building, the cop – or civilian! – subduing a killer?  Sure, but how about the parent reading a bedtime story after an exhausting workday, the sanitation worker, the utility worker in a storm. Some are daring greatly, some just persisting in dull or draining work because it has to be done. Heroism comes in many forms. 

By Ken Fischer

Heroic efforts are not always front page.

In the course of many years of dealing with tactical and high stress incidents, I’ve had occasion to witness heroic acts. Again, the principals in these incidents regarded themselves as ordinary people doing what they needed to do to resolve a crisis.

Women in police street level work were fairly non-existent even into the seventies. Lakewood was progressive so female agents were on board, but could not work solo until 1975. No chief wanted to be the first to lose a woman in the line of duty, so women had partners or worked support assignments, never alone. In 1975 a female officer was killed in the line of duty in Washington DC. Soon after, Lakewood had women working the street solo.

A couple years later I was asked, as a street supervisor, how I felt about women in combat.

While differing in the work environment from combat, parallels do exist between the police and the military.

My response was that my troops, including several women, faced combat issues regularly. If they were not up to the task, they usually redirected their career in a short time frame – men and women alike.

Lakewood Police Department photo

Toward the end of my tenure, I monitored a burglary in progress alarm at a marijuana store. The female beat agent – flying solo post-academy for just a couple months – had been close and responded to confront an exiting suspect. Our police agent was athletic and avid, but ran about five feet tall, just over a hundred pounds. She was the daughter of a fellow ranking officer from another agency. I recalled her as his newborn baby in the eighties when she and her mother came to watch our Police Athletic League football practices.

The suspect was twice her weight, intoxicated and confrontational. He would not obey commands and charged her. No opportunity for a Taser. Seconds seemed like minutes as this 22-year-old woman confronted real life danger in a hands-on assault.

Backup got to her as she was riding the back of the suspect and hanging on for dear life. Custody was accomplished with some additional “dancing.” I arrived and found my first responding agent to have two shredded knees, bumps, bruises, facial cuts and a hair scheme that looked like a bad bird’s nest.

She had done her job and now wanted to follow through with booking this suspect, who showed minimal damage and no concern for her at all. I assured her that he would be waiting at the station for her after she was treated for injury. She won her spurs that night as fellow officers got wind of her performance. Of course we had her new husband respond to the hospital. Her assignment for the rest of the night would be rehab at home. I advised her to take the time she needed to get everything working again. She was back at roll call the next day with a new hairdo, new pants and applause from her peers.

She’s now a seasoned veteran and still out there serving and protecting you and me.

I am proud to have lived and worked in the company of heroes.

This is Part 2 of a 3-part series about heroes. In case you missed it, here is Part 1.

Ken Fischer holds a Master’s Degree in Education from the University of Iowa and was involved in organizing Iowa’s first Law Enforcement Training Academy. He was on the SWAT Team in the Lakewood Police Department, and retired as a Senior Sergeant. A longtime resident of Southern Gables, he is an experienced woodsman and now runs a firewood business.

Heroes

Our neighbor Ken Fischer met a lot of interesting characters in his work with the Lakewood Police Department, Some were difficult or dangerous, of course. It’s a tough job, part of the deal. But some… some were shining examples of the best of us. Some were heroes. 

By Ken Fischer

When I was young, one of my earliest examples of a hero to be admired was President John F. Kennedy. Most boomers in my generation felt the same, with this dashing, youthful, charismatic and well-spoken president. When he challenged us with “Ask not what your country can do for you…” it was electrifying, and just the juice we sought moving into new frontiers. The sad reflection of decades since has been what he could have done had his opportunity not been tragically plucked from history. With all his flaws documented in years since, I believe he is still regarded as one of our best. He was a hero to us. It is not a tragic death, though, that bestows the title.

Heroes are among us.

I do not believe there is a common definition for a hero. Performance under stress often points to an individual regarded as heroic. Dave Sanders, Sully Sullenberger, Alvin York, Kendrick Castillo and Todd Beamer were heroes.

The common thread seems to be average people who step up at a critical time to confront a life-threatening situation and resolve it in a life-saving manner, even at the risk of losing their own lives.

I spoke with one such hero. Dr. David Benke was a math teacher at a South Jeffco middle school. During an afternoon playground recess, a former student – an adult – with severe mental problems returned to his old school where he knew none of the present staff or students. With a legally obtained rifle, he began shooting students. Without hesitation, this tall, slender doctor of mathematics charged toward the fire, tackled the intruder and dragged him to the ground. He was joined by a school bus driver, Steve Potter, and together they subdued the aggressor. He shared with me that he felt he could not have physically made that tackle alone. In my wheelhouse, this took a mile of guts and I commended him.

As one of many humble people, he was uncomfortable with the honors. With reporters pushing him for a story, he brushed off accolades for his actions. “You’re just doing what you can do to try to protect your kids,” he said. Still, as a hero would, he turned bravery into action.

ILoveUGuys.org

David Benke went on to establish a foundation to teach school and community safety. The foundation’s programs are now used in more than 30,000 schools, districts, departments, agencies, organizations and communities around the world. According to the Foundation’s website ILoveUGuys.org, the methods taught are about crisis response and post-crisis reunification, and are “research-based best practices of school administrators, psychologists, public space safety experts, families, and first responders.” A guiding principle of the “We Love U Guys” Foundation is…

Crisis isn’t a choice. Response is.

That’s something a hero knows.

This is Part 1 of a 3-part series about heroes.

Ken Fischer holds a Master’s Degree in Education from the University of Iowa and was involved in organizing Iowa’s first Law Enforcement Training Academy. He was on the SWAT Team in the Lakewood Police Department, and retired as a Senior Sergeant. A longtime resident of Southern Gables, he is an experienced woodsman and now runs a firewood business.