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Blind Inside and Looking Out, A Police Officer's Life Story (My Life Story)

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posted on Mar, 30 2010 @ 08:39 AM
Here is an excerpt from something I've been working on. It's my story, the only things made up are the names and the places (I'm still active)... I've never really shared this with anyone, actually only 2 people know this story exists...

It's written in journal/memoir form, and may be a little crude at times... I hope I don't break T&C, sometimes it's on the line... Please let me know if I do so I can change things...

I'm looking for some constructive criticism and if positive, I think I'll post more... I have 70 pages written already (on the computer) and would love to publish this...

The whole text (written so far) can be found Here ... Remember that it is from new to old (don't know how to change that...)

Keeping the peace,




Hello, and welcome,

Well... I don't know how to start this. I guess I'll introduce myself.

I'm a 24 year old guy, living and working in a remote northern community in Canada. I have a job that is highly stressful, with important responsibilities that impact the lives of the people around me. Lately it seems, things are not going so well. I hope that this blog will help me keep my head on my shoulders, and my mind in my head.

Well, I guess you'll understand more as you read on...

I hope to meet other people in my situation, I hope that they will understand because other than to my wife and best friend, I don't talk about my troubles to anyone. In the profession I am in, weakness is not acceptable, and it has to be seen to be believed; it's just too bad nobody wants to come to where I am to see it for themselves!!!

Take care,


The beginning of it all

It was 2004, I was 19 years old, and in college studying policing in Montreal. I never thought my life would take such a drastic turn from here.

One of my classmates had already worked as a police officer in Northern Quebec and discussing his experiences with the class. They were amazing. Calls about fights, calls about drunks; action, just pure action. I asked him to give me a contact number to find out more information about this place and how I could possibly work there. He gave me a name and a number which I couldn't wait to call.

Much to the protest of my girlfriend at the time, I called the Lieutenant who informed me that he would have to interview me soon. I told him that it would not be a problem. He called me and gave me a date and time at a local hotel. So I met him there. My interview was brief and to the point; it lasted about 45 minutes, and 30 of those minutes were spent talking about music and hockey. Then came the weirdest scenario I had ever heard:

"You get a call from a guy who says that he just had sex with a girl because she was possessed by the devil and he wanted to take it out of her. She is severely beaten and he threatens to kill her if you go inside. What do you do?"

I did not know what to answer! I told him that I would try to convince him to get out. He replied :

"Now he said that he wants a priest and that he also cut off his penis to make sure that the devil does not go inside him. What do you do now?"

I wish I could see my face at that moment. My mouth was probably opened and my jaw touching the ground. I answered :

"Well, um... I wouldn't let the priest anywhere near there. I'd let him speak, um... On the phone. Then I'd let him bleed out and then go in and get him and the girl to the hospital."

And then came the coup de grace...

"The family wants to keep the penis."

Holy crap! What was I getting myself into?!?!?!

"Well, uh... I would, uh... Put it on ice and let the hospital decide what to do with it. If they can sew it back on, then that's what will have to happen! Why should I have to make that decision?" I answered very decisively...

The interview ended and I was to wait for a call...

A few weeks later I got a letter from the Lieutenant. He said that although I was much more mature for my age than others, the government was pushing them to hire trained officers from now on. My girlfriend was more than happy with that news. I was destroyed. I had hope, and it shattered like a car window...

December 2004, I get a call from the Lieutenant. He says that they are seriously short staffed and that they would need me to go work there over the holidays. I said yes almost right away! My girlfriend cried and cried that I was going to die, that they are crazy up there, that I was leaving her, abandoning her blah, blah, blah... In my head the decision was made for an opportunity of a lifetime; I was flying the 15th of December, exactly 5 days later.

[edit on 10/3/30 by Magnum007]

Mod Edit: All Caps – Please Review This Link.

[edit on 30 Mar 10 by Gools]

[edit on 10/3/30 by Magnum007]

posted on Mar, 30 2010 @ 08:40 AM
The First Contract Experience

I get off the plane in Kululujuak. It's super windy on the tarmac and we have to walk to this small building. It turns out it's the terminal where the departures and arrivals all happen. My room is bigger than this place.

I get by bags off the 20 foot long baggage thing and I am greeted by a female officer. Attractive and very nice, she was also a corporal. I was already enjoying myself.

She takes me to the place where I will be staying which is right behind the police station. It has 3 rooms, a kitchen, and a living room. Not so bad. Then we go to the police station. I meet with a lady who took my name, my picture, and assigned me a badge number, 5344. I was pretty proud. I had a badge number, no badge, but a badge number.

I was a what is called a "4 monther"; someone who signs a contract for 4 months and does replacements. Usually a student, or someone who isn't sure if they want to stay up North for long. Although this role has changed since I first started, it's still basically an auxiliary/supernumerary officer.

I met with the equipment guy. He went down a list of equipment and he handed me some things: handcuffs, handcuff case, belt, inner belt, shirt, pants, etc... Then it got to the weapons:

"Pepper spray, baton. Um, do you have the training for this?" He said. I replied "No". "Well then you will not get this yet" he answered.

So I started my first shift with two officers who had about 1 month in. They were going to train me. We were on the night shift. I was so excited! Finally my dream of being a police officer came true! We received a call about a fight at a house. We went inside. The two officers questioned a few people and so did I. Notebook in hand, I was writing everything that was said to me, my hand burning in pain. I went overboard. The officers that were with me told me once in the car that next time, it would be best for me to just hang back and watch.

So the shift ended and I was reflecting on how we had gotten into some fights and wrestled with people. On how I had told my partners about not getting any pepper spray or baton. The two were completely speechless! They told me that I needed to get that equipment and soon!

The next day I went back to the equipment guy. I asked him for the pepper spray and the baton.

"I didn't give you them yesterday?" he asked.
"No" I answered
"Oh! Really? Well here you are! Pepper spray and baton!"

It was that easy...

So I worked another shift with another officer. She had much experience and was very patient. She explained everything to me that was important and I liked working with her. She had a calming effect on the people and she obviously had the their respect.

We had a call about a guy with a knife at a house. When we arrived we saw him in the entrance and he ran off before we could get out of the car. I chased him on foot and lost him around a building. I was sure he was in the shack but it turned out he was hiding under the house. My partner lied down on her stomach, and although normal procedure was to take out her gun, point it at the suspect and order him out, she only took out her flashlight and started talking to him. It was marvelous policing. He refused and was severely intoxicated by alcohol but she held her ground and kept him calm. Back-up arrived and 2 older male officers went under the house and dragged the suspect out. I had just seen the most amazing police work.

That night, I was at the house where my 2 original partners also lived. I was sitting in the kitchen and it was late, past midnight, and making some food. A guy I had never seen before who turned out to be a police officer, came in absolutely drunk with a bottle of liqueur in his hand. He was depressed, he was angry, he was just out of his mind. The 2 guys calmed him down and he started crying. I announced that I was going to bed and said goodnight to everyone and told the drunk guy:

"Well you are lucky to have 2 good friends that care about you". The guy lost it.

"Who the F%^k are you? Who the F$%K is this guy? Who do you think you are? F$%k you! You're dead! I'm going to get you!"

I went straight to my room and started packing my stuff. Once Mr. Happy was gone, I told the guys to drive me to the corporal's house. She was asleep at the time. We woke her up and I told her that she needed to get me out of Kululujuaq. I explained the situation and she said we'd talk about it in the morning.

The next night, I was at the police station writing tickets. Mr. Happy came in, drunk again, and started his regular routine, I didn't even look up.

"Who the f%^k is this guy? Huh? WTF is he doing here?"

The other officers there got him out of the station. I was transferred to another village the next day.

So I get to Kirgusak. This time the airplane was a 15 seat Twin Otter. The airport is a small house with a counter. Man, the places just keep getting smaller and smaller... I was told that this town is the worst on the coast, but we were 3 officers and had a corporal in town.

I was staying at a teacher's house while she was away on Christmas vacation, as there was no room at the police transit; it only had 2 rooms. It was right across the street from the police station and the local store so it was perfect. My house was connected to another one with a shared middle hall.

posted on Mar, 30 2010 @ 08:40 AM
One night after a very exciting and action packed shift, I was sitting in the couch relaxing in my long johns watching TV. It was past 2 in the morning and we were expecting more calls. I heard the neighbors fighting. I got up, put my boots on, my belt on and my jacket. I went in the hall and knocked on their door. Some woman answered and I could hear someone crying in a room. I went to see. The lady was holding her face and crying. I asked her what happened and she wouldn't say. I left because there were 4-5 different people in the house, and there was no way of knowing who did what as nobody was talking. So I left. As I went through the door, I heard a huge BANG! and screams coming from the same room. I went back inside and saw a guy standing over the woman in a corner. I jumped on him right away. We fought all the way into the hall. I was calling for backup on the radio but by that time there was another call going on and the guys were in a similar situation over there. I was being kicked and punched and I was doing the same. I told the woman to go into my house while I was fighting with him and to lock the door as he was trying to get to her again. Finally, after a long struggle and much fighting, I got the guy in handcuffs. I walked him out of the house and to the police station.

When I got home, my bottle of wine, one that my mother sent to me for Christmas was gone from the kitchen table. I was devastated, felt betrayed, I broke down.

I got a call from a person saying that a girl I know from college was beaten up by her boyfriend. The other guys were on another call so I had to go check it out myself. When I got there, I found something I didn't like. From the entrance, all I could see was a woman's feet sticking out past the hall wall. Not moving. I called the guys to come and meet me before I went inside. She was ok, only passed out from the alcohol mixed with the beating she took. The guy was later arrested.

Christmas came along and I played some Elvis tunes at the community feast. I have an uncanny ability to emulate Elvis and it was a hit. I received the honorary name of "Elvis" from my Corporal.

After the new years, I was sent to Qualajakak. Where I spent the 2 weeks left of my contract before going back to school for the winter session, mostly stuck inside because of blizzards...

Looking back, the blizzards were just the calm before the storm...

posted on Mar, 30 2010 @ 08:41 AM
Coming back to reality (mine at least)...

Coming back to Montreal was an adjustment. I just spent almost 2 months doing replacements in villages that had populations of under 500 people. When I got out of the plane in Dorval, I noticed that there were so many people... I started getting dizzy. There were more people in the baggage claim area than the total people I had seen in the last months, or at least it seemed like it.

I got my bags and my girlfriend and family was waiting for me. Happy to see me. We drove back home. All the way to the house, I could not get a grip on the odd feelings I was feeling for the first time. The feeling of being home, but not really home...

It was now January 2005 and I started school again. I was now in my 4th semester out of 6. I soon realized what part of those feelings were about. I had grown up, changed, and learned things that made me different now. People's complaints about stupid, no-consequence "problems" like how this person said this, or how they will die if they don't get that... Those issues irked me to the max. I had just seen people at their worst, some beaten, some despaired, some with no hope and these college students are "going to die" if they don't get a stupid piece of electronic device??

Class was not an easy task and it was hard to keep myself focused; I had just "been there" so to speak. I could relate to almost everything being taught, making most classes boring. The worst were the general education classes (English, French, Humanities). I was surrounded with 17-20 year old "children" and I dropped out of those classes. Looking back, I really shouldn't have done that, but then again, I always had issues with school.

Since I was a child, school has always been something that I never liked. Thanks to my grade 4 teacher, I was sent to 3 psychiatrists because each one said that I was not hyperactive and she wouldn't believe it. The result was that I was too smart for my own good (and I don't say that loosely, I was a smart ass). School was never interesting for me and I was never learning anything interesting. This is why I drove my parents crazy with my home "science experiments" including but not limited to: throwing a light bulb at the wall to see if it would explode (checking pressurization resulting in my mother having glass in her finger requiring stiches), experimenting with the mixing of different household chemicals (checking for compatibilities and super cool foaming/gassy results), and coming up with theories on cures for diseases like cancer and AIDS (this was in my teen years). I loved and still love to learn on my own by reading science magazines and watching educational shows. School was just not teaching me "important" things.

I spent the semester drifting in and out of my thoughts still processing what I had just gone through. I was still trying to understand what I saw. It was an eye opener and I grew up for sure. I still sometimes wonder if it was just too fast. I was 20 and had witnessed things that most 80 year olds never even heard of...

Unbeknown to me, my second contract in summer of 2005 would be no different, if not worse than what I had already been through.

posted on Mar, 30 2010 @ 09:49 AM
reply to post by Magnum007

Very nice, I didn’t know Canada had a wild west of sorts, I am interested in reading more, when you get around to it. It is always nice to read peoples stories and you begin to see we all have similar experiences.

posted on Mar, 30 2010 @ 10:06 AM
I enjoyed reading your story ,i hope you will post more also.

posted on Mar, 30 2010 @ 12:51 PM
Thank you for reading!!

I'm not familiar of the way to post more.. I usually post in the "breaking news" forum...

I will post more in this thread I guess...


[edit on 10/3/30 by Magnum007]

[edit on 10/3/30 by Magnum007]

posted on Mar, 30 2010 @ 12:57 PM
The second contract...

Before the 2005 winter semester ended, I received a call from the Lieutenant asking if I wanted to come back to work for the summer vacation. I was super excited! I didn't tell anyone, consult, nor did I even have to think about it! I said yes.

Once again, to the chagrin of my girlfriend, I was leaving. After another long and arduous argument about me dying, not caring about her, and my selfishness, I was packing and getting ready to leave on another contract. Destination : Alikulujuk.

I was warned that this place was un-officially called the "Vietnam" of the area. It was considered one of the toughest, craziest, and most busy towns to work in. Of course being 20 years old and as "tough as Superman", this didn't phase me much at the time; until I got there that is.

I arrived in mid May. My partner had been working there for a while and his girlfriend, who was from there, was pregnant with their first child. They were great. When we would be working 24, 36, or 48 hours straight, she would cook for us. We would sometimes just have enough time to stop by the house, eat, take a short nap, and then have to go out to more calls. It was crazy... If the lack of sleep didn't get to you, the nature of the work did.

We got a call from the nurse at the clinic saying that we needed to be there, that something happened and they needed our assistance. Once we got there, we saw a mother and her daughter in the examination room that we were escorted to. The little girl was playing and smiling and laughing, the mother not so much. The nurse told us that there was an allegation that someone had "touched" the little 4 year old girl. We asked simple questions to the little girl through her mother until we realized that the mother was answering before the little girl. We politely whisked the mother out of the room and brought in an interpreter to help us as the little girl only spoke Inuktitut. We left the room with a name and the details of what happened to the little girl (I will spare you that part). The nurse gave us a very good theory of the event after her examination. I looked in the room again before leaving the clinic, the little girl was still playing and laughing... Her innocence made me feel so sad; she had no idea that what happened to her was so wrong.

We arrested the sick person who, of course innocent until proven guilty, was a minor, just shy of his 18th birthday. We arrested him on a Sunday night and his court appearance was set for Monday afternoon by telephone. My partner and I got home at around 2 in the morning on Monday, hoping that the calls would stop for the night as we had a busy day ahead of us.

It was 6:30 Monday morning and we received a call from the guard on the police radio. "Uh, I think there's a problem" he said. "Ok, what's wrong?" My partner answered. "The prisoner, he escaped." We were at the police station in 2 minutes flat. The guard, a local young man, explained to us that the prisoner had a visitor who threatened him and forced him into the bathroom while the visitor helped the suspect out of the cell through the meal tray trap. We were now on a manhunt. My partner and I spotted the suspect on a skidoo with a shotgun on the side. We armed ourselves with the police 12 Ga and went looking for him. We started at his house. We saw a person lying on the sofa facing the back of it. We screamed "police" and ordered the person to show their hands. The person calmly turned around, saw us and then turned back into their original position facing the wall; it was the suspect's father. We asked him where his son was, he pointed upstairs and said "Maybe in his room, I don't know". He wasn't there. 6 hours later, and after entering around 4 houses thanks to calls from people who "spotted" the suspect, we got a call that he was in his grandmother's house. As we entered, everyone was leaving. We asked if the kid was there, but everyone said no and evacuated the house like it was on fire. We knew he was there. We slowly searched the house room by room, silently. Finally he was there, asleep on a mattress on the floor. I did an arm bar technique and turned him over which woke him up. My partner was right there with me. The suspect woke up and started fidgeting. I told him that we were the police and that he was under arrest which seemed to enrage him. I warned him not to resist and he started to try to fight, I tightened my grip. More, and more, giving him orders to stop fighting. I heard a "crack" sound, and then he was out of my hands and off in the hall. We started chasing him. We found him 5 minutes later hiding under a house. I soon realized that that "crack" I heard was his shoulder dislocating.

We took him to the clinic. At that point he was not in pain yet as he was high on something called Acetylene. He was to be sent to a hospital in another town via Medivac to have a Dr. re-set his shoulder. Only after he woke up, a little later, and after noticing that his shoulder joint was at nipple level, did he start feeling the pain. We had to leave immediately on another call.

The month of June came along and we were getting more and more busy. Summer time is always busy for us no matter what place you work in. Alikulujuk was no exception.

We received a call from our corporal who told us that we needed to arrest a man. He needed the file done before 10:30 so it can be sent to the prosecutor's desk for processing the same day. According to him, we had no time for a warrant, we were to find another way to get the "Penguin". My partner and I, 2 fresh rookies, scratched our heads as to how to do this. We came up with a plan: we were going to get the father to sign a statement that he would permit us to enter the house in order to arrest his son. After getting the statement, we went in an arrested the person our boss told us to. We made sure to mention the Corporal's request in the report. It would come back to haunt me.

Sometimes as police officers, we need to make split second decisions that can have severe consequences. Those decisions are then usually scrutinized, analyzed, dissected and examined for significantly more time that is granted to us. Hindsight is always 20/20. I wish I had hindsight, or at least some other device to see better...

posted on Mar, 30 2010 @ 12:58 PM

It was a normal night in Alikulujuk; busy, and lots of work to do. It was mid June and terribly hot out for some reason. We called in a guard, my partner's brother in-law, who came in right away. As we were going to leave the police station, the phone kept ringing, but it was not for us, it was for the guard. He kept hanging up and getting more and more angry. It turned out to be his girlfriend who wanted something from him. The last time she called, I told her to stop calling and to let the guy work. She said she was coming and hung up the phone. When she came to the station, an argument broke out between the two. We got her out of the station and the guard thanked us. Then he got up and ran out of the police station. He was now chasing her. We followed suit and saw him throwing rocks at her. Finally, we distracted him and the girl got into her house but he was now threatening to throw a huge rock at us. We were still in the police vehicle and talking to him through the PA system. He was now less than 10 feet in front of the vehicle. He lifted his arm and was imminently going to throw this rock. If I would have been armed with a gun, I would be justified in shooting him. I instead bumped him with the truck which knocked him down. He got up and ran off. I chased him on foot until his house where he went up the stairs turned around and kicked me in the chest. I went flying! Then what I saw next made me chill to the bone; he reached for a rifle. Being un-armed, I ran and called my partner. We went to our house to get the 12 Ga and call our boss. As we were peaking to him, the suspect is at the door, pounding on it. We were now trapped in our own house. One of us went upstairs to a window and pointed the gun at the front door, while the other gave orders to the suspect. A passer-by gave us a hand. The guy who was a reliable guard for a long time was now in need of being guarded...

On a Sunday in June, I received a call from my Corporal that I was going to be transferred to another village the next day. I asked why and his answer was clear "You write such good reports, they need your help in Ijukjuvik". I didn't know it yet but I was being played, set-up, for something that made me so angry, and disappointed it made me question my career choice.

I arrived in Ijukjuvik that Monday and was picked up by someone who went to the same college as me, except he had graduated the previous year. My suspicions only got more severe when I noticed that, of the staff there, I as the only one who was not trained at the police academy yet. I knew something was up, and up it was. On the Friday, the corporal, who happened to be the female officer that I admired for her work during my first contract, handed me a letter. She said to me "Don't get angry at me, this is not coming from me". I read the letter. I was livid. My contract was being terminated because I don't follow orders, I hit people with the police vehicle, and it went on and on and on. I pissed off the wrong people by doing my job. I realized that the biggest problem was not what the population was thinking about the police, it was the internal politics that reign within a PD. By following the orders I was given and by justifying myself in a report, I was now considered a traitor. I didn't accept that, I couldn't.

I called a union representative, not MY union representative because that was the Corporal who got me into this mess. By the next day, my contract was re-instated and I was transferred to yet another community.

They say a dog is a man's best friend. I am convinced that a dog can be a man's savior.

It was now close to July and I would only have 2 more months to go. I was moved to a very beautiful village called Ujujujaq. When I arrived, the officer there told me that the dog that was tied to the back of the house was 6 or 7 months old and that the same amount of officers came and went from this place. He said that the village would put her down if nobody claimed her. I told him that I would find her a home. She ended up adopting me, and has since accumulated more air miles than any other dog.

I worked with a great local officer in this community. Super officer, and super person. When she was sent to re-enforce another village that was hosting arctic games I was left alone for a while. Fortunately, this community was a good one, quiet, and the police had the people's respect and vice-versa. It was a great place to work. Gram kept me company during that whole time. I taught her how to sit, stay, and lie down. She always wanted to play with me and was a huge baby (still is). I kept my sanity thanks to her. I never thought I'd ever say that about a dog.

One day, my partner and I got information that a "white" guy in town was selling drugs from his house. We applied for a warrant and turned the house upside down. We left with the guy under arrest and with nearly 1 Kg of drugs. Turned out the warrant was not good enough and we had to release the suspect right away. The way I saw it, at least we got the drugs out of there.

The contract came to an end in August... but I soon found out that my will and calling to be a northern police officer would not extinguish in me for strange reasons that I couldn't understand...

posted on Mar, 30 2010 @ 02:27 PM
Am I aloud to link to my blog page where most of this text is? Or should I just post it here?


posted on Mar, 30 2010 @ 02:35 PM

Originally posted by Magnum007
Am I aloud to link to my blog page where most of this text is? Or should I just post it here?


Ask A mod, But your stories are great...

posted on Mar, 30 2010 @ 04:09 PM

Originally posted by poedxsoldiervet

Originally posted by Magnum007
Am I aloud to link to my blog page where most of this text is? Or should I just post it here?


Ask A mod, But your stories are great...

Thank you very much for the encouragement!! I will definitely ask someone about this!


posted on Mar, 30 2010 @ 04:25 PM
Home Again....

I went back home again in August after my second contract to go back to school for the fall semester. Once again I was feeling something inside that I did not understand. I could not grasp why I was feeling sad and not in my place. I was having trouble adjusting back to my "normal" life. In school, in my personal life, in everything I did.

I did not return to the North during my Christmas break, nor during the summer break of 2006. I stayed in Montreal and finished my college studies, albeit I never graduated because I never finished my general education classes : Eng, French, Humanities.

I never understood the purpose behind writing 1000 words, or 5000 words about a specific book, or story analyzing this and analyzing that. I was once 500 words short on a paper and was penalized. I went to see the teacher and asked why. All the "elements" the teacher asked for was vomited on the page as requested in the format requested (there was no real work to be done). She told me I needed to come up with 500 more words. I told her that I refused to water down my paper with "and", "therefore", "hence", etc... like all the other brain dead people in my class. I explained to her that all the details were there and that the work was done honestly and these "filler" words were not used for a reason! She conceded that everything was there, but insisted that I write 500 more words. I refused. Needless to say i left the class.

This is one of the many reasons why I will never understand "education". Then I met the best English teacher in the world. He was different. He was like the Chuck Norris, the Al Pacino, the Robert De Niro of teaching. His teaching method, his great mood everyday, his life stories, all made me look up to him. Thanks to him, I discovered the world of Woody Allen movies. Needless to say, if he wanted a paper, it was done. I took an intersession class with him as well. It was an amazing 2 weeks. Normally I would want to die before going to school during the winter holidays, but I was there all day, everyday and I even went in during a snow storm as were 99% of his students. His classes were so captivating.

I held a few jobs here and there, working in a bar as a bouncer, working at a courier company, I was not happy. My girlfriend moved back to her country of origin after she finished school.

The girl was really nice, smart, but a tough one to deal with. Jealous, headstrong, and partly controlling, I never felt like she understood my calling to be a cop and the rhetoric was always "let other people sacrifice themselves". I guess I can say I never really understood the reasons behind why I wanted to be a cop, only that this was my vocation. She was a blue/green/grey with a little yellow eyed, brown haired beauty. We had many different views on things. I hated cheese, she loved it... No. it was deeper than that. We obviously did not agree on some fundamentals and she had not adjusted to Canadian mores. She was a 100% European girl and did not understand the same things I did. In the more than 3 years we lived together, I think I saw my best friend alone twice, and once, she just happened to show up... But my career choice was the #1 argument starter.

I got into this profession by an ini-miny-moe process. I have 2 callings in my life and a third recessed one. My 2 vocations are making music and being a police officer. I could only apply to one at a time for college and they only took applications from the first round so I had to make a choice. In spring of 2002, I had to apply to college so I placed the two applications on the kitchen table, shuffled them, closed my eyes and.... got Police Technology. In retrospect, it was the right choice as I could always be a hobby musician, the other way around was not really an option! Lately I have discovered that I have entrepreneurship-like qualities and that I would love to start my own business.

I was in school, going to work, living my life, well at least physically, but inside I was in another place; a place where the sun shines most of the time in the summer, almost never in the winter, and where I felt at home for whatever reason. I could hear it calling me. I could hear it telling me to go back.

In the spring of 2007, I called the Lieutenant back to see if they needed people. He said no problem, but that he needed to meet with me first. I had that meeting with him when I got to Head Quarters in March 2007. Once again, something happened that I never expected, and of course it was nothing compared to what was to come a little down the road...

posted on Mar, 30 2010 @ 04:26 PM
... And let the show begin!!!

It was the end of March 2007, the 20th to be exact. I was flying back up north. I had to meet the Lieutenant at HQ for something that I had yet to know about. I was excited, I was finally back! I was starting again, this time I didn't know for how long as I had decided that I would maybe stay for longer than 4 months; I was contemplating staying permanently.

I got to HQ a little past 13:00 and sat in the Lt office. He started by shaking my hand with a smile on his face as if he was happy to see me. All of a sudden he got serious and said : "I have to discuss something important with you. I have heard things about you while in Montreal. Someone reported to me that you said that we Inuit live like dogs". It was like a punch in the stomach/testicle area. "Excuse me? Someone said that I said what?" I replied. "Someone told me that they heard you say at a bar that Inuit live like dogs." Again, I was at a loss of words. "There's no way I would say that! If it was true, why would I want to come back in the first place? There's no way I said that!!" I told him. The meeting ended, and I felt funny. I can't explain what the feeling was. It was like I had just made a big mistake in coming back, like it was the beginning of something very wrong. In a way I was right, but I was also very wrong...

I was sent to Sulluivik, a village where there are roughly 1000 people and where the police never really sleep. There is something to do all the time. It was nice. I was sent there with a guy from my school who came up with me. We worked together for a while until they sent him off to another village. I had great times there.

We had a call to a house behind the police station once, and I was the passenger. There was still a lot of snow on the ground and it was night time. We could not see where the road side was, where it ended, and where it began. We had already ditched the other police vehicle, but had no time to take it out. So we are guessing our way to this call. "Dude, right there, there's a road. Turn right!" I said to Oleg. "No man, there's no road there, it's for ski-doos!" He replied. I insisted "No really there's the house I can see it, it's right there! Turn right on this road!!" Well, we ended up walking to the house... We had to walk to the station with the guy we had arrested, and take out the now 2 police cars we ditched. What a night. We got home at 7:55, 5 minutes shy of the end of our shift when we got a call from an unknown person screaming and crying "ARENA!". That's all we got. The nurse got the same call. After much searching, Oleg found a girl half frozen in a snow bank. We brought her to the clinic which sent her to the hospital down south for further treatments. She almost lost her limbs and her life. We got home at around 10 in the morning and decided to clean some dishes to make breakfast. We saw, through the kitchen window, the water truck backing up to refill the house. BEEP BEEP BEEP BEEP BANG!!! The truck backed up into the police vehicle and the rear windshield just exploded into a million pieces. Oleg and I couldn't help it, we started laughing. I radioed Dom, another officer in town and told him what happened, and of course wished him good luck with the accident report as we were off to bed!

Sulluivik was a great town to work in. It was fun, busy, and the team was great. We always had calls to go to, work as a team, and relax together as friends after. Sometimes it was normal to go to non-urgent calls alone such as noise complaints, impaired drivers, etc... Low risk calls where we knew the people involved, well I learned that it isn't always as low risk as thought.

Continued in next post

[edit on 10/3/30 by Magnum007]

posted on Mar, 30 2010 @ 04:27 PM

I got a call about neighbors having a party and disturbing everyone around them. I told my partner, who was on stand-by, that I would go and let him know if I needed him. When I got to the call, I walked up the front stairs and looked inside. I saw a white guy standing there, a woman in the floor crying and 2 other women yelling at her. I told the guy that I could take him and his girlfriend home. He refused and said he would walk. I insisted because they were very drunk and I didn't want them to hurt themselves on the way. As we were talking briefly, the two women ran inside followed by the one crying just 1 second earlier. I heard, "Don't touch me!" from inside the house. I tried to go in, but the guy blocked me, I told him to move but he wouldn't so I pushed him. He tried to turn around and punch me, but I followed his move and placed him in a headlock. Once he was on the floor, I went inside to make sure everyone was ok. I noticed the back door open and turned around to go out to the police vehicle. Once I turned around, the guy pushed me out of nowhere and I landed on my back in a corner between the kitchen table and some chairs. He jumped on top of me and tried to punch me, but my martial arts training kicked in and I dodged and blocked the punches. All of a sudden I see from the corner of my eye his girlfriend, who must have weighed over 200lbs, jump like superman and belly flop on me. She started punching too. So I took out my pepper spray and warned them to back off. When that didn't work I sprayed them. She got off fast, he stood up but tried to fight, so I pushed him into the stove and left the house to get my partner. On the way out a little kid was crying on the porch. I scooped him up and took him with me.

When my partner and I arrived back at the house, the guy was taunting us. He wouldn't open the door and made obscenities in the window. When he finally did open the door, a long fight occurred; this guy was high on something as he did not feel anything we inflicted on him and he would not go down. Needless to say after spraying him in the mouth, he went down. He cried and cried and cried all the way to the police station. The tough guy earlier was no more... Until we got to the police station. Once there, he broke a 50 lbs wood privacy barrier in the cell (gives some privacy when using the toilet). He used it to try to break the cell door. We had to go inside to take it away from him. You can guess what happened there when he threatened us and resisted with a 50lbs weapon in his hands...

They say that what goes around comes around. I never understood that concept, especially when what happened to me next occurred. It was going to be the second time that I would re-evaluate my choice to be a police officer, but most importantly it scarred me and to this day I still feel the consequences it caused inside of me.

posted on Mar, 30 2010 @ 06:50 PM
reply to post by Magnum007

Was your girlfriend French????? The reason I ask his because some Frenchmen I served with in Afghan said a lot of French people were that way.

but good story man keep it coming when you get a chance.

posted on Mar, 30 2010 @ 07:36 PM
reply to post by poedxsoldiervet

No, she was German... I met her in college when she was an exchange student... She was supposed to stay only 4 months and then when we met she decided to stay. We lived together for a little under 4 years...

Tough woman!!

I'll post more...


posted on Mar, 30 2010 @ 07:38 PM
The life changing event...

I always do my work with passion. I actually care about the people I work for. Yes, work for. I never lost sight of the fact that I work for the people and that I must leave my personal life, opinions, bias, and such all behind; I am a professional. I would be lying if I told you that it's easy or that I never slipped up. Curiously, the hardest part of this work for me is not necessarily not bringing home to work, it's quite the opposite. It's very hard to not bring work home when the police radio rings while you sleep, while you eat, while you shower, while you pee... There's no separating yourself from the radio, it becomes a part of you; it's always at arms length, you are always ready to answer it.

I've been told that I was to be killed, I've been told that I would be beaten up, I've been told that I am every bad word in the dictionary (and also the ones not there of course!). That doesn't really affect me. What makes my blood boil is when my integrity, honesty, and all the hard work to build it is either attacked, or even destroyed. This happened to me in May of 2007.

I was attending calls to the same house all week-end with Dom. A man and his wife were arguing all weekend but there was nothing to do as they didn't use violence and there was no risk of it at the time. Between calls, Dom's girlfriend came in to the station to say hi. We all joked around about her "checking up" on him. I told Dom jokingly "Hey man, you should put your foot down and say 'WOMAN! I'm the man now listen to me and be quiet!'" She laughed with us and we all had a good time.

We got another call to go to the house again. This time the guy was outside on the porch. We talked with him for at least 30 minutes. We froze our butts off out there but we didn't care, we had to take care of this situation. His wife would bring us coffee "to sober him up" as she would say. Finally they reconciled and he opened the door to the house and screamed "WOMAN! Get me my ring!! I threw it in the kitchen". Dom and I could not look at each other. We just barely contained our laughter. After a few seconds of avoiding eye contact, we were ok to continue our serious intervention. Once we made sure everything was ok, we left, with the guy thanking us and offering to make me a CD with music we were discussing before.

That night changed my life forever.

We got another call to that house. The guy called saying that his wife was drunk and that she was outside only wearing boots and a long t-shirt/gown. We got there and had no choice but to take her in for the night. We had a female guard there as well as 3 other prisoners from various other calls. Once we finished some reports, Dom and I left the station, leaving the guard and the prisoners inside.

I got back to the police station the next morning and brought the girl inside the interrogation room to explain to her what happened and her charges. She asked me "Why didn't I have pants last night?" I explained to her what had happened and she said ok. I took her home.

Later that day I went in for my night shift. Everyone was quiet and avoided looking at me, or so it seemed. Dom, the most senior officer there told me that the girl had given them a statement and accused me of raping her in the prison cell. I thought I was going to lose it. We started getting calls from her husband threatening me, I spoke to him once denying everything but there was no talking, he was, understandably, beyond himself. I was sent to Kangarjuvik 2 days later.

I got to Kangarjuvik and worked 2 days before receiving a fax :


You have been accused by serious allegations. You must hand over your uniform, equipment, ID card and badge to the officer at the Kangarjuvik station immediately. You are now under suspension with pay until further notice.

Respectfully yours,

Jake Econ
Police Chief

As soon as I finished reading the letter, I received a call from the Lieutenant. He was sorry that nobody called me before. He had just received a copy of the letter himself. I don't know what he said next because I was in between angry, frustrated, disappointed, and mostly confused. All I can remember was that the provincial police was to come up to investigate and question me. He just did not know when.

Everything I worked for, my job, my reputation, my CREDIBILITY!!! What is a police officer without credibility? Nothing. Now I was a badge less, broken police officer. I was embarrassed... I was nothing.

I sulked in the house I was staying in with Gram. My partner had a daughter who was around 2. She was so cute. She refused to nap after lunch no matter what her mother would try. I asked her mother once if I could try. I took her in my arms and rocked her while walking and singing. She fell asleep right away. The only problem was that I could never put her down without her waking up and crying. So I would keep her on my chest while I watched TV on the sofa. It was really special.

The provincial police came. The investigator was a guy who was accompanied by the first female officer, the good looking corporal, who picked me up at the airport in Kululujuak back in 2004. I was asked if I wanted to write the statement myself. I told them that I did nothing wrong and the if they wanted to write what I said then so be it but that I would not write anything. My statement was, if my memory serves me well, a little over 10 pages. After the statement, the corporal gave me some advice: "Next time, take more notes and you will save yourself a lot of trouble". I have written everything I did ever since, except when I go to the toilet of course...

I was kept in Kangarjuvik for some odd reason. It was costing the department around 1000$ a week to lodge the replacement officer. I lobbied the Lieutenant to send me home as I knew the investigation would take months and it would be cheaper to send me home to my family than to pay hotels for months. The department agreed and sent me home before the end of May 2007.

I spent the time trying to keep busy. I called the Lieutenant and asked him if I had restrictions on my movements and when he said no I told him that I was going to Europe to see my girlfriend. He said "Ok, have fun!". I didn't.

continued in next post

posted on Mar, 30 2010 @ 07:40 PM

I was miserable. I could not get my head around what was happening to me. Although people were telling me that they believed me, I could see that there was always that doubt in their mind; the all too human "maybe he did it". To me, my integrity, credibility, and everything I stood for has just been run over by a truck and covered in cement. Inside I was broken and I felt like I was nothing, but I never let it show; I was "tough as Superman", remember?

The Exoneration and Moving on...

I got a call from the police chief on a Sunday in July of 2007. The chief told me that the investigation was complete and that the local Crown attorney refused to proceed with the file. It was sent to another judicial district for transparency and was also refused there. I was to be re-instated and had to fly back the next day, Sunday. I was happy but for one thing... I had a scheduled motorcycle exam on that Thursday, needless to say my request to leave on the Friday was refused.

I went to the chief's office on that Monday after a long flight contemplating what could happen to me next. He welcomed me back and told me that I was going to Aupijivik. The town every officer dreaded because of its stories of death by extreme boredom. Plus, I was going to be paired up with a female officer who had 1 week experience. I took it all in stride after considering what had happened to me just 2 1/2 months prior. I went to Aupijivik with my head high and my tail well between my legs.

It occurred to me later that I might have been paired up with a female officer to be watched, or even tested. I resented those thoughts. I was still processing the original incident. I still did not understand the reasons. I found out later that this woman who had accused me was diagnosed with some mental illness. She was also saying that she had children with a court judge who was trying to kill her to shut her up, which was impossible as the children were too old to be his anyway. Although it answered the question of what was going on in her mind, I didn't understand the reasons why it had to happen to me. Was it a sign? Was it a symptom? What did it mean? For the longest time I would not search a female suspect, and to this day, although I do it, I still feel very un-easy searching a female.

Michelle, my partner, turned out to be great. She was eastern European and was a great friend. She would "cook"(I would tease her about her cooking abilities) for me sometimes and we'd share meals. She was a great cop, and became a great friend. I took the train and visited her in Toronto at the end of November 2007 after our contracts ended. Her family is super nice, warm, and very welcoming.

I went back to Aupijivik in January after 1 1/2 months vacation; Oleg followed suit. He came up at the same time again. It was a very calm spring. Not so many calls. Aupaluk was getting boring...

Then one day, my wish for busyness bit me in the arse. We received a call from a guy who was going to off himself and there was nobody that was going to stop him. It was clear to him that if anyone interfered, he would shoot them and then kill himself. It's important to know that he had done this while I was on vacation. The officer replacing me was a retired provincial police officer who, in 35 years of service, never pulled out his gun until he met this same guy with a 12 gauge in his mouth. Back to my story... The only problem with this situation was that we didn't know where he was. When we would ask where he was, he would only say "Jesus' house". Where does Jesus live? We went to the 2 churches and he was not there. We finally decided to surround his house and evacuate the houses in line of fire because the last 2 times he did this he was home. Oleg had the 12 gauge and I had my personal 30-06 scoped rifle. We watched the house while the social worker talked to the guy. Then all of a sudden, I looked in my scope and realized that there was a padlock on the front door. There was no way this guy was home... I was so pissed. I had ordered the evacuation of 10 houses and potentially sent people straight into this guy's line of fire.

Finally, we found out that this guy was in a house exactly where I had sent people. I was so angry. When the social worker told us that the guy was in and out of consciousness because he was so drunk, we went in and arrested him. He had no gun on him at all... This guy almost got himself a suicide by cop.

Aupijivik is a very small town, actually there are less than 250 people. Needless to say, there are lots of social problems and they are deeply ingrained in the people. Alcohol, drugs, and abuse of all kinds are the catalyst for our work here. It's pretty sad, and the town grew on me. I guess because we both had something alike: we were both broken and needed something to lean on.

posted on Mar, 30 2010 @ 08:39 PM
You have me absolutely spell-bound!!! Waiting patiently for more!! Very exciting & I feel privileged to get to read of your experiences!! S&F.

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