Law Enforcement Widows Find Skill, Will to Survive

The widows stand in the woods here and tell their stories:

“My husband was killed when a driver ran a roadblock. Our kids were 5 and 8.”

“My husband was shot with an assault rifle by a gangbanger. Our daughter was 7 months old.”

“A drug dealer shot my husband.”

“A drunk shot mine, five times in the back of the head.”

“Mine was knocked unconscious and smothered with handfuls of snow.”

The women listen to each other, nod and hug. They understand.

They are all widows of law enforcement officers killed in the line of duty. This retreat in the Ozark Mountains lets them grieve--and gives them the courage to move on. It’s a weekend to mourn, and to build self-confidence.

This year, it also is a time to reflect on the dozens of newly shattered spouses who may soon need retreats like this: the wives and husbands of the 60 police officers who died in the terrorist attack on New York’s World Trade Center.

Those spouses will receive financial help in the months and years to come: There are pensions and federal compensation checks, charitable donations and college scholarships. But the money, while welcome, will not ease the anguish when a little girl takes her first steps and her daddy is not there to watch. It will not answer the questions that float through the mental fog: Am I wrong to feel so much rage? How long should I keep wearing my wedding ring?

Support for the Long Haul

Diane Philpot and Valerie Wouters talk of such things. And of the need for such talk in New York. Both women are widows of Michigan police officers. Both want to reach out as others have reached out to them.

It takes that kind of community, they say, to make it through.

“Once the survivors get past the ‘Here’s your money, sorry for your loss,’ we’re the ones who are going to be taking care of them for the next 20 years,” Philpot said. “The United Way and the American Red Cross give out the checks now, but they’re not going to be there later.”

“And it’s later that you need the help,” Wouters added, reaching out to her friend for a hug. “When the shock and the numbness wear off, this is what you need.”

Families of police officers, of course, are not the only ones who will need such support. All the thousands of victims of the terrorist attacks left behind loved ones struggling to endure. But the relatives of police officers and firefighters have an advantage: They can tap into a community of families who have suffered similar loss. There is no such network for relatives of slain bond traders or secretaries or window washers.

For firefighters, there is the National Fallen Firefighters Foundation. Its annual memorial event--scheduled for this weekend--includes counseling and workshops for hundreds of grieving family members. The group also runs a survivors network that hooks each bereaved relative up with a mentor. “It gives them someone to call at 2 a.m., someone who can honestly relate,” said Chief Ronald Siarnicki, executive director of the foundation.

The comparable group for law enforcement is called COPS--Concerns of Police Survivors Inc. Founded in 1984, it counts more than 10,000 families as members. It offers counseling for law enforcement agencies and lobbies for legislation to aid survivors. The group also sponsors weekend retreats for spouses, children, siblings and parents of officers killed in the line of duty.

In the Ozarks last weekend, 48 widows came together to bond.

They learned to fish, to canoe, to fire guns. They tackled a tipsy-looking tower of logs and rope, talking one another up the 50-foot climb for the sheer rush of saying they had conquered the challenge. Every activity was designed to build confidence, to make the women tap skills they did not know they had.

Learning to Live Again

The message: “You can go home and learn to live again,” said Suzie Sawyer, the group’s executive director. She gazed up at the 50-foot tower.

“When you accomplish this, you can accomplish life,” she said. “There’s no such thing as closure, but you can incorporate the tragedy into your history and move on.”

That was a potent message for many of the women. Some had lost husbands just weeks before. Others had been widowed for decades. One woman was at her first COPS retreat--50 years after her husband’s death. All said they drew strength from seeing others who had made it.

“Just hearing everyone’s story. Just knowing you’re not alone,” said Kristi Evans, 31.

Added Wouters, who lost her husband last October: “I still don’t know how I’m going to get out of bed every morning. But when I see these other women, I know that I will. The how is maybe not as important as the knowledge that you will do it.”

Honoring Each of the Fallen

It is that spirit of resiliency that the women of COPS hope to send to the widows of the World Trade Center. But not to them alone.

More than 100 officers had been killed this year before the terrorists hit. Several more have died in the line of duty since Sept. 11. On average, this nation loses one law enforcement officer every 2 1/2 days.

The widows gathered here want to make sure that every one of those deaths is counted, that every one of those officers is recognized as a hero.

“This was a wake-up call to America to see how devastating it is to the families--whether 60 police officers are killed all at once or one officer is killed every 57 hours,” said Molly Winters, COPS national president.

Fishing and gabbing--actually, gabbing more than fishing--41-year-old Linda Pope agreed. Her husband, a Cincinnati police officer, was shot in the head as he served a warrant in December 1997.

The World Trade Center attack “was tragedy on a massive scale,” Pope said. “But each one of us here has gone through the very same thing.”

And each stands ready to help.