This is terrible to admit, but since having children I really don’t pay much attention to the news. We don’t get a newspaper delivered to our home, we exclusively stream our television programming, and I’m not one to pop online to check out the latest headlines. Why? Because, honestly, I have a really hard time handling what I hear and see. The news being reported is so overwhelmingly tragic, upsetting or violent that it makes me want to wrap my three young children up in a cocoon and never let them out. No one could have ever explained to me the love that I feel for my little ones, and the thought of anything or anyone harming them is something I can’t even put into words. So – for the most part – I don’t go out of my way to inform myself, or take only a cursory glance at or listen to the headlines.
But when the news headline of the day occurs right in your own backyard, it’s pretty hard to avoid or ignore it, especially when your children witness part of the event.
Last week the terribly tragic accident that ended up taking the life of Michigan State Police Trooper Chad Wolf happened right down the street from our home. My early risers and I were headed out for coffee and errands, and we saw it: an overturned motorcycle, a huge helicopter parked right in the middle of the four lane highway, and countless police and fire vehicles, lights flashing. Even before we saw it, we heard it: the sirens, the noise, the sounds of numerous emergency vehicles. Those of you who have young boys will understand when I say that my three and five year old were completely mesmerized; there is nothing more entertaining to a little boy than big, loud and moving cars, trucks or planes. But this wasn’t entertainment. The sounds that we so clearly heard, and the scene that we so closely witnessed was obviously the aftermath of a very serious accident.
It wasn’t until an hour or two later that I learned just how serious, tragic and heart-wrenching the accident actually was. After finishing our errands, we made our way back north on I-75. The freeway was a parking lot. I decided to take the back, dirt roads, and weave my way home. The usually quiet back roads were jammed with cars. We circled the accident site again and again, attempting to gain access to our neighborhood, but the road was closed and the emergency vehicles remained.
By this time, my boys were brimming with questions – not to mention hungry, and in desperate need of a bathroom. I had gotten a brief synopsis of what was going on, so I explained that a police officer had fallen off of his motorcycle, that he was hurt, and that we should hope and pray for him. We found a bathroom, got some food and eventually made it home just in time for naps. All was right with our world.
Yet, just down the street, the accident investigation of Trooper Wolf continued. And for once, I found that I couldn’t look away and detach myself from what we had seen. Nor did I want to. I wanted to know what was going on. When my ever-inquisitive five-year-old snuggled up next to me on the couch and sweetly asked “Mom, is that police officer going to be OK?”, I wanted to be able to answer his questions. Moreover, I recognized that he wanted to know what was going on. He had witnessed something significant in his little world, and he wanted to be informed.
So, we talked about what happened. We read a news article; we looked at a few pictures; we talked about how police, fire and law enforcement officers help people in trouble; how many of them are mommies and daddies themselves, but they put their uniform on each and every day, ultimately putting their lives on the line to serve and protect us. Most of all, we hoped and we prayed that Trooper Wolf would pull through.
Sadly, he did not survive. By the time of his passing we had learned a little bit about Trooper Wolf: he has a family. He and his wife have four children. Their children look young – particularly his two, adorable sons. I know how much my little boys absolutely adore their Daddy. I cannot even fathom what this family is going through. All is not right with their world, and will likely not be for some time.
Bad things happen in this world. Terrible, tragic, heart- breaking events occur every single day. Unfortunately, that’s life. I don’t know a parent out there that wouldn’t want to shield their child from harm, to protect their baby’s innocence, to delay the ultimately inevitable lesson that life – as wonderful and magical as it can be – will also deal some staggeringly powerful, awful and unfair blows. Those in Trooper Wolf’s line of work know more than any of us just how scary the world is, yet they get up every day, kiss their families – their wives, husbands and children – goodbye, and put their lives on the line for our safety; these law enforcement officers put themselves, and their families at risk so that people like me and my little family can feel safe and protected in our community, our home, our little cocoon.
My sons and I passed through the accident site on the day of the funeral while going about our day. Out of the blue, my three-year-old chimed in from the back seat: “Mommy, that policeman fell off of his motorcycle. He got hurt”. My Kindergarten-aged child immediately followed up with “I really hope he’s OK, that he’s not sad”. Though incredibly small, my little guys’ comments really struck me as a tribute to the life, work and memory of Trooper Wolf. In their developing minds, my sons knew that someone who works to protect us had been injured, and they wanted him to be well.
As a wife and mother – as a writer representing this Metro-Detroit network of countless wives and mothers – I grieve for the loss of your life, Trooper Wolf. I feel so deeply for your wife and children during this incredibly difficult time – more so than I can even attempt to express. I humbly thank you, Trooper Wolf. Thank you for devoting your life’s work to serving the citizens of our State. Thank you for helping make the world better for our growing families, for putting yourself and your beautiful family at risk so that all of us may sleep better at night.
May your family find peace, and may you rest in eternal peace.
