A long time ago, God sat down in a dark corner of his heavenly workshop.  Spread out before him was an assortment of mislabeled pieces and broken parts that he put in a cocktail shaker, shook passionately, then poured out the prototypical Holly Hill cop. 

In exchange for giving him a special place to love and care for his whole life through – the Good Lord’s compromise was that when the officer’s productive life was through – he would never be good for anything else again.   

Astonishingly, just when I thought no one could ever count on me for anything – someone did…

I was recently granted a short furlough from retirement to help transition my beloved Holly Hill Police Department from a very dark place to an exciting new future.  A difficult but personally fulfilling challenge that showed me how much things have changed in my profession – and my life.

I’m not going to sugarcoat it – we took it on the chin – and when I first entered the building, that intimately familiar place where I spent the bulk of my adult life, it had the feel of a hospice.   

Hard lessons learned.  A transformative experience that changed everyone involved.    

For instance, I used to be a voracious consumer of the news, reading multiple newspapers before breakfast, perusing editorials across the political spectrum, making notes, annotating articles, and keeping up with breaking stories was a big part of my day. 

After repeatedly seeing the accurate but heartbreaking descriptor “troubled” written in front of my beleaguered department’s name in the news each day, it hurt, and I don’t follow current events much anymore. 

And I have all but abandoned the feeding frenzy of social media, a medium I once viewed as every man’s soapbox – now more of a compulsive waste of time, where reasonable voices are drowned out by asinine inaccuracies and uninformed speculation – something I no longer have the stomach for. 

At least not right now.   

Through this process, I learned much about the depths of disappointment, and the best and worst of human nature during a crisis; the silence and cruelty of some I thought were friends, perceived enemies who showed compassion when we needed it most, the damage political opportunists can do when they smell blood in the water, and the indominable spirit of a small group of resolute professionals who never quit when others on their right and left broke and ran, and the livelihoods of dedicated men and women, many with young families, hung in the balance as a century old tradition of policing in this small, tightknit community was threatened with extinction.      

I will be forever proud of those officers, staff members, senior city administrators, and elected officials I had the privilege of going through this extraordinary period of pain and embarrassment with – they made me a better person – forged a stronger organization, and acquitted themselves with honor, integrity, and great courage under withering criticism.   

Having been out of the game for over a decade it was disorienting, but I tried my best to help more than hurt and provide hope and stability to some well-deserving public servants while secretly shaking in my boots. 

During that trying time, I literally begged some good men and women to stay the course after they were actively recruited to leave for perceived greener pastures (pun intended), and I received much-needed encouragement and guidance from a few former colleagues still in the fray.  

I will never forget that. 

Slowly we dusted ourselves off, cleaned up the department literally and figuratively, and began to smile more (truth be told, I closed the door and silently cried a few times, which is not a leadership trait that inspires confidence, but an honest human emotion).  Along the way I came to the painful realization that I am a tired and technologically illiterate old man whose notion of shoe leather policework long ago went the way of the buggy whip…  

Though much has changed about my former profession, other aspects of the job remain the same. 

A young person’s tragic death by overdose.  The search for a lost Alzheimer’s victim.  Mans inhumanity to man.  My legendary emotions rising and doing my best to suppress them, my once ferocious roar now muted and humble.   

A hit-and-run crash that injured a teen.  A confused elderly person who could no longer care for their equally confused and frightened pet. Commiserating with a young officer affected by a difficult death notification; marveling at the extraordinary courage and personal resilience of another recently involved in a traumatic incident.

Sweeping the floors, being the last to leave, trying to set a personal example. Enjoying the camaraderie that bridges time and age – and the good-natured ribbing of those who still remember some of my more cringeworthy career highlights (CHAOS: “Chief Has Another Outstanding Solution.”)

Trying hard to decompress after a long day without the crutch of multiple Martinis, staying alert and clearheaded, watching the weather, watching everything, anticipating, waiting for the phone to ring after midnight. 

It brought back so many memories, good and bad.  Still hard and clear as glass…     

In the many years since my productive life ended, I have lamented how much I missed the work I loved; and the feeling of being welcomed inside that historic coquina building that became a personal touchstone.  No matter what happened in my life, I knew if I could just get back to that wonderful place there were people inside who cared about me.

It didn’t take long for me to realize that what I missed were the people I once served with – some of whom are no longer with us.  Those friends, colleagues, and magnificent souls who made my life and career so incredibly fulfilling. 

It was like returning to a beautiful house that I helped build with love, blood, sweat, and tears to find a new family living there.  After wasting so much precious time yearning for a time and place that no longer exists, I really needed that closure. 

My time has come and gone, and that’s okay. 

That’s life.  A good life.    

This is a new generations’ era – young and energetic professionals doing a difficult and dangerous job with great skill and devotion. 

Good people who deserved far better from their former leadership… 

I wish them careers full of great achievement and complex challenges, doing work worth doing for people who appreciate the effort – and the overwhelming sense of satisfaction that only comes from service to a cause greater than one’s own self-interests.  

Those intrepid souls who have remained loyal to the brand deserve that.  (They deserve a living wage and better benefits for their families, too…)    

Everywhere I looked, there was an intense pride in service, an eagerness to serve others despite near constant fault-finding and condemnation – a willingness to put their lives on the line to protect your family and mine, striving to uphold the finest traditions of public service. 

Throughout the trials and turmoil of the past months, that dedication to the mission was the one constant that continued to burn bright.  

Earlier this week, in front of a standing room only crowd of well-wishers, the City of Holly Hill extended a warm welcome to their new Chief of Police Byron Williams – a true gentleman and inspirational servant-leader who recently completed a stellar 25-year career with the Daytona Beach Police Department. An exceptional law enforcement professional who emerged from a nationwide search – the right person, at the right time – to make a positive difference in the life of this most deserving community.

While others tried to exploit a bad situation, Chief Williams ran to help. 

His legacy is yet to be written.   

When the ceremony was over, I faded back into retirement.  Finally content to pace the cage, back to my well-worn barstool, safe in the knowledge things are in caring and capable hands.

Earlier this week I was asked by a former colleague if I would consider writing a treatise on the leadership challenges of being called back to service after so many idle years – between the lines I heard, “Will you explain the rational of why a tired and troubled old man with a long white beard, covered with tattoos commemorating his former service, would think he had anything to offer in a potentially terminal crisis?”

The short answer to those who aspire to a leadership role is – if you care enough about something – and have a deep devotion to the care and welfare of those wonderful people associated with it – you will instinctively, unquestioningly, and unhesitatingly do whatever you can to help. 

Even when the odds seem insurmountable.

That isn’t leadership – it’s Love. 

I’m no expert, but perhaps those who teach and pontificate on management and leadership should make those terms interchangeable? 

Now, like a phoenix rising from the ashes of disappointment, distrust, and despair comes an exciting new beginning – a department and community who, as Hemingway said, will be “stronger in the broken places…”  A wonderful time of renewal and resurrection.      

In recent days, many loyal Barker’s View readers have asked when my frequent screeds on the news and newsmakers of the day will return to this page.   

The answer is, I don’t know. 

Over the past five weeks of responsibility-induced sobriety (not a fan, by the way), I’ve wrestled with questions of whether these blogposts help or hurt our current divisions in an age marked by pettiness and provocation.    

If the Quixotic notion of pointing out the self-serving machinations of local politicians furthers a larger discussion of the issues we collectively face, or merely contributes to the mean-spirited goading so prevalent now; and whether voicing an alternative opinion is a colossal waste of time when the size of one’s bank account remains proportional to their political influence and access?    

I question the reasons some office holders still confuse why they serve, and who they serve, with their own self-aggrandizement, political ambition, and not-so-hidden personal agendas and proclivities – while openly lying to us about critical issues we face, like the pace of unchecked development, its effect on the land and environment, and the resultant social, civic, and economic pressures?       

Angels & Assholes…  I’ve seen enough of both to know I don’t have the answers…

After stubbornly calling attention to the political screw job we denizens of the “Fun Coast” have collectively faced for the past eight-years, at the end of the day, maybe I was the biggest asshole of them all?    

That’s the problem with introspection – it can be uncomfortable.  I suppose that’s why so few people engage in it…

Right now, all I know with certainty is that over the past few weeks I had the great privilege of coming through a profound and transformational experience with some extraordinary people at a time when my beloved department, and the community it serves, desperately needed help. 

Maybe that was the purpose God intended at his celestial workbench all those years ago?   

I’ll figure it all out and get back to you… 

Thanks for listening.  Thanks for everything.  Talk soon.