You’re on patrol and chasing a felon on foot. He runs into a dead end. You approach.
He jumps over the barricade and into the river.
What would you do?
You are on patrol and stop a car because the motorist was exceeding the posted speed limit by thirty miles per hour. You ask the driver for their driver’s license and registration.
You look through the driver’s window and they have a cell phone pointed at you recording the encounter. They refuse to comply with your lawful orders to exit the car. They claim you’ve broken the law by making the stop and wish to affect a citizen’s arrest.
What Would You Do? I Video You Too
FIT@50 / week 25
On Saturday I drove around the city in my POV (personally owned vehicle), sorry cop talk. I noticed drivers without seatbelts, easing through stop signs, and generally just motoring about their business.
On the previous Friday, I’d been in my police cruiser. It had a wholly different effect. People immediately put on their seatbelts, they completely stopped at signs and they glance or nodded as they motored about their business.
I thought on that Saturday, “I’m a ghost.”
It felt odd – I questioned my ability and desire to exit a culture as powerful as policing.
Wisely, I began my transition period on Monday morning with several hours of conversation with my pastor, Joshua Melancon. His words reminded me that it never was the cruiser or the clothes or the shield that made the public servant.
It was me – The Ghost.
I want to say Thank You for these last years as Chief of Police. They’ve been an amazing experience, and while times were trying, most were rewarding.
It’s a tough job. but one I’ll cherish for the rest of my days.
We’ve always made great use of social media’s power and my last official act was another fun opportunity to speak with the city that made serving them a joy.
Chief Scott Silverii’s Last Day & Final Message – I’m Taking The Sign
FIT@50 / week 24
It’s A Date:
When I chose today as my retirement date, I never considered the historical significance it shared with another event that forever changed my life and worldview – Hurricane Katrina.
Today’s the day I leave the one job I’ve had my entire adult life. I will miss so many things about it. Mostly, I’ll miss leaving an anchor, that despite unbelievably chaotic and risky times, also served to center and shape who I am.
How will I feel at 5:01pm today? I have no idea. How did I feel at 5:01pm ten years ago? I felt like I do right now – that no matter what circumstances may come, I’m completely prepared to handle the mission. Not because of my ability, but because of my faith.
Ten years ago, as the worst natural disaster raged against my Gulf of Mexico boarded parish, I was assigned to command emergency preparedness. Neither bags of ice nor evacuees moved without my sending the okay.
It was the most horrible, yet fulfilling time of my life. Where better to be, than in the eye of Hurricane Katrina? Ground zero for rescue and recovery became all I knew for months.
The weeks in New Orleans’ metro area leading our SWAT unit showed me less about bravado, and all about compassion. I witnessed hardened men – modern day warriors, sling their machine guns to carry children, pets or the elderly. We bonded together against the federal bureaucracy to do what was right over what was regulated. We made life changing decisions during life ending encounters, but alway with life-saving hopes.
It was hell on earth, but what better place to be to have your faith tested by fire? It’s never further away than a thought or a comment, but nothing comes easy right? This and the thousands of crisis encounters during a single career are why we do the job. They’re also why we hurt. Why some crack. Why some cease to exist.
It’s ironic sitting here typing today’s fit report as Liliana Hart is next to me working on her own projects. She couldn’t ever imagine what that was like. But as someone I love, I never have and never will tell her what it was like or what we went through. Some experiences can be seen in the faces of those who endured – no words needed.
I’d like you to watch this video put together by a dear friend of mine, Rachelle Hitt Bilbo. This was created during the week Katrina slammed us. It’s what I’ve learned and always tried to practice throughout my career and life – human compassion.
Maybe I’ll check in after 5:01pm to tell you what it feels like. Chances are my feelings won’t become clear for some time, but what I do know is that the first moments in my new life will be spent with my family.
FIT@50 / week 24