Guest Column: Why we need to help those who help us
By Aimee Kontos
Dan is not authoring this week’s Kontos Column. Some of you may miss him, and others may celebrate. Instead, you get me, Aimee Kontos, Dan’s wife, as a guest columnist. You’ll all be happy to know there aren’t as many big words.
I am a police officer. I started my law enforcement career at the Portage County Jail in 1998 and became a certified police officer in 2002, working for the City of Waupaca. I then spent 12 years at the Stevens Point Police Department before moving to the Plover Police Department in 2018. Those of you who know us know that Dan and I met while both volunteering for the Whiting Fire Department in the mid-1990s. So, many years of emergency services.
I don’t tell you this to impress you, but just so you know my status. I am old for a cop. Been around a while and seen some things.
I have experienced many changes in this profession. From analog radios to digital simulcast. From writing addresses on my hand to full computer-aided dispatch. From carbonless paper tickets (press hard) to thermal printers. From VHS tapes in a vault in the trunk of a squad car to multi-view digital dash cameras and body cameras. Lots of things have changed, most for the better.
One thing that has not changed is the cops themselves. We are mostly Type A personalities, tough, and don’t like to ask for help. We also expect other cops to be tough and push through the hard times. It has never been a profession where we talk about our feelings. We suck it up and move to the next call, never any indication that anything might be wrong.
But there can be a lot wrong that you wouldn’t see from the outside.
According to studies, the average person experiences about three traumatic events in their lifetime. Police officers, in contrast, can have 200-400 critical incidents in their careers. Now, these are not only direct traumatic events but can also include secondary trauma, also known as compassion fatigue. Things like seeing abused children, victims of serious traffic accidents, victims of homicide, or simply dead bodies. It may also involve injury to another officer or an officer-involved shooting.
Every cop sees these things and many other traumatizing things. This can lead to PTSD, or Cumulative Stress Disorder, which is just what it sounds like. The stressors that police officers feel, day after day, continue to build on each other. Over time, compassion fatigue and chronic stress can lead to feelings of detachment, hopelessness, chronic exhaustion, irritability, difficulty concentrating, and withdrawal, among other symptoms.
As young police officers, we learned quickly that no one wanted to hear our problems. They were kept to themselves for fear of being seen as “weak” or putting their job in jeopardy. Failure to address trauma and stress does nothing positive for the person and can lead to increased rates of suicide, depression, alcohol abuse, and other mental health issues.
Without proper support, officers are at a higher risk for nightmares, hypervigilance, flashbacks, and emotional numbness. As you can imagine, this is very hard for the officer’s family, which can lead to a higher divorce rate.
Since we recently recognized First Responder Wellness Week, this leads me to another positive change we have seen in law enforcement: officer wellness programs. Every law enforcement agency in our county has implemented physical and mental wellness programs. Each has a contracted police-specific mental health professional and requires yearly “checkups.” Each has a peer support team of specially trained officers who can be a confidential listening ear and facilitate referral to specific professional help.
It is now much more commonplace for officers to check up on each other after tough calls. And for departments to accept and encourage the need for post-incident briefings. From no help to “All you have to do is ask.”
On August 20, 2024, Portage County Deputy Elliot Schmoll was involved in a high-speed pursuit. You may have read about the case here in the Metro Wire. You may have also read the follow-up article when the offender was sentenced. Deputy Schmoll, at the time a 22-year-old rookie officer, talked about the traffic stop, the vehicle pursuit, and the offender firing shots at him.
But he also talked about his feelings. The feeling of helplessness while watching the offender fire at other officers. The feeling of firing his weapon at another human. And the aftermath — being unable to sleep, having nightmares, and hypervigilance in public.
Back then, Deputy Schmoll would never have said a word about how he was suffering. Imagine how that could have affected his career and his life. But now, he had options. Thankfully, he felt comfortable taking advantage of the help available to him. He felt supported by his department and his fellow deputies. He got the help he needed and was able to move forward, stronger.
Though maybe not quite as dramatic, officers face these obstacles every day. We are fortunate that, here in Portage County, law enforcement administrators and municipal leaders support these men and women and are willing to fund the programs that keep them healthy.
But we can’t forget, and we can’t back away from it; we need to continue to grow these programs. Budgets and funding should not be an obstacle when it comes to the mental health of our first responders. Make no mistake, these issues affect more than just the cops.
Firefighters, EMS, corrections officers, 911 dispatchers – they all walk the same road. If we can support them in their healing, they can go on to serve for a long career.
In a world of ever-stressed public safety budgets, we truly cannot afford not to take care of those who sacrifice so much to take care of us.
As Dan would say, with that, let’s meet in the opinion section to talk about all of it, boldly, honestly, with an appreciation for all our first responders. Until next time, remember that God loves you, and so do I.