‘When you talk about the incident, you seem to do better’
I’ll never forget the call I received the morning of June 1, 2021, from the paramedic at nearby L.A. County Fire Department Station 81.
“Monroe, it’s Sparky. I’m not kidding around. Jon just came in here and shot and killed Tory. And then he shot Arnie. I need help!”
I was stunned. The three men he named had been my personal friends throughout much of my 13-year career with the LACoFD.
When my crew and I arrived at Station 81, I draped my murdered brother’s body with the American flag and, for the next 90 minutes, stood guard over his still form as I followed the unfolding events on my mobile radio. After killing Tory, Jon returned to his home, set it on fire, and then put a bullet in his head.
The Unexpected Weight of Trauma
When you apply to be a first responder, there’s no fine print on the back of the brochure that describes all the horrific things you will see, do, and feel in this profession. I was used to the normal, “everyday” trauma. But nothing I learned in the fire academy had prepared me to process how one of my close friends could shoot and kill another close friend, shoot a third friend, and then burn down his own house before killing himself.
In the days immediately following June 1, my mind was a mess, my emotions were all over the place, and I struggled to merely function. I was woefully unprepared for the overwhelming feeling of being alone in a sea of raging emotional and mental pain.
First responders frequently cope with trauma with callous humor, drinking or drugs, and reckless behavior. Others just stuff it in a dark corner of their heart. But these coping mechanisms didn’t work for me. I couldn’t stop thinking about the horror of that day.
The Power of Sharing and Peer Support
I decided to seek the help of a therapist. Though she’d never been a first responder and had never experienced the trauma I experienced, she brought great insight that helped me process my experience. Yet I continued to struggle. I didn’t want to expose anyone else to what I was feeling because, what if I made them feel this way, too? I felt trapped and alone. Everything hurt. I had no idea how to find a door out of the dark room I’d constructed around myself. God, please help me!
The Sierra Incident, as it came to be known, was covered continuously in the news. Everybody had an opinion about what had happened and why it had happened. Rumors ran rampant throughout the department and the community. Many of my peers sought me out because I knew the men involved in the incident, and I’d been there throughout the day.
It helped me to tell the story, to set the record straight, to dispel the rumors. One of the people I talked to was on another agency’s peer support team. She said, “Ed, I’ve noticed that when you talk about the incident, you seem to do better.” She was right. Speaking about what happened that day helped me bring order to my mind and heart.
Then she told me about an upcoming two-day conference in San Diego sponsored by the Public Sector Peer Support Association (PSPSA). I learned that a group from our department – including the peer lead, chaplain, and psychologist – was scheduled to speak about the Sierra Incident. Since I was involved in the call that day, it was determined that I would be the operations representative.
The conference was held in October 2022, in a room filled with 800 people. I’d talked about the incident in one-on-one conversations and with small groups. But I’d never spoken to this many people.
Our 45-minute presentation, followed by a Q&A session, went well. I came away with a positive sense of accomplishment and what I now describe as a therapeutic feeling. We received a lot of positive feedback from attendees. I remember thinking I got more out of it than they did. I was glad I took part in the program, yet I still felt alone in facing the hurt and loss that had been my constant companions throughout the year since the incident.
The Turning Point Of Realizing You Are Not Alone
But it was the second day of the conference that mattered most to me.
As I sat in the audience the following morning, I found myself totally engaged with a speaker named Justin Krueger, a Long Beach police officer, as he told how traumatic stress had impacted and changed his life. He spoke about the shootings he was involved in. He put a spotlight on the depression, isolation, pain, substance abuse, reckless behavior, and suicide ideation that frequently follow people dealing with traumatic and accumulated stress.
I was stunned. How was it possible that someone else could know – much less feel – all the things I felt and struggled with? I realized I wasn’t alone, and that was my turning point.
Healing and Hope
In the weeks that followed, I gave much thought to what I’d heard from that police officer. I understood I had a lot of trauma to wade through on my journey to recovery, but I also understood it was not an impossible journey. If someone else could do it, then so could I.
I continue to see a therapist as I walk out my healing. I also seek out and talk to others who are on their own journeys. I let them know there is a window of light in the dark room that surrounds them, and to seek help from culturally competent professionals who understand the first-responder lifestyle.
Perhaps you, too, feel trapped and isolated as you attempt to navigate your own journey to wholeness. Right now, allow me to give you the same hope that was once given me. It begins with the assurance of knowing you are not alone.
