"If your life is in turmoil and you're down on your luck, don't worry, we'll be right out to kill you." ~Tim Barden
"If your life is in turmoil and you're down on your luck, don't worry, we'll be right out to kill you."~ Tim Braden
To those who knew and loved my dear friend, and to everyone grappling with the tragic disconnect between those who serve and those who suffer,
I write this not just with a heart heavy with personal grief, but with a mind troubled by systemic failure. The recent, devastating loss of my friend—a son, a sibling, a parent, and a genuinely good person—is a tragedy that demands more than tears; it demands a critical examination of how our society treats its most vulnerable members during their darkest hours.
For those of us who knew them, the pain is immense. For society, the questions are urgent and relentless. Their life was tragically cut short, not by their illness, but by a response designed to contain, not to care.
Part I: The Anatomy of a Crisis—When Help Becomes Harm
My friend was a kind, struggling soul navigating a terrible season of life. Like millions, they faced an overwhelming combination of financial strain and significant mental distress. They were not a threat; they were a human being in a severe emotional spiral, desperately needing connection, patience, and professional help.
I remember a quiet evening when they reached out, asking me to stop by their place just to talk. These conversations were not casual; they were expressions of profound trust and vulnerability. They were sharing their internal turmoil, believing, perhaps, that society, through its institutions, would ultimately meet that vulnerability with compassion.
The sickening irony is that when their crisis reached a critical point, the systems intended to provide safety failed catastrophically. The ultimate tragedy is that a moment of genuine human suffering was met with deadly force. My friend was killed on their own property, a place that should have been their sanctuary, a final retreat from the world's pressures.
This outcome is a chilling verdict on our priorities. It is unacceptable that a person in mental strife must face an armed response instead of a compassionate intervention team. The moral we are forced to draw from this story is stark: Compassion and care are not the default response for those in crisis.
Part II: The Great Disconnect—From Guardians to Enforcers
This tragedy is not an isolated incident; it is a symptom of a profound shift in the very nature of local law enforcement in America.
A. The History of Community Trust
Decades ago, local law enforcement was often intrinsically linked to the community. The beat officer was a familiar presence. They knew the streets, they knew the families, they understood the social dynamics. They were often peacekeepers who understood that their primary role was about maintaining order through relationship, recognizing that enforcement was only one tool in a wide set of social responsibilities. The community trusted them because they were seen as guardians.
B. The Tactical Shift and Militarization
Over time, driven by shifts in federal policy, the rise of tactical training, and the War on Drugs, the culture of policing changed dramatically. Officers became more heavily armed, their training prioritized containment and command over communication, and the philosophy shifted from serving to controlling. Law enforcement became increasingly viewed as an external, tactical force—a force of enforcers.
When police are disconnected from the social fabric of the neighborhood, every call becomes a potential threat assessment, every resident an unknown variable. In a crisis, this detachment means they don't see a neighbor in distress; they see an unpredictable element that must be neutralized. This is the tragic gap our friend fell into. They deserved a neighbor's help, but they received a soldier's response.
C. The Burden of the Badge: A Failed Social Safety Net
The core problem is that we, as a society, have dismantled nearly every other rung of the social safety net—closing mental health facilities, cutting funding for community services, and failing to provide accessible crisis care. As a result, the police department has become the de facto first responder for homelessness, addiction, poverty, and severe mental illness.
We are sending officers, whose primary mandate is to manage criminal activity, into situations that require clinical expertise. This is unfair to the community, and ultimately, it is unfair to the officers who are inadequately prepared and unnecessarily put in harm's way by being forced to act as social workers, psychiatrists, and crisis counselors.
Part III: The Path Forward—Demanding Compassionate and Clinical Intervention
If we are to truly honor the memory of those lost and prevent future tragedies, we must advocate for comprehensive, systemic reform that re-prioritizes care over confrontation.
A. Mandate and Universalize Crisis Intervention Team (CIT) Training
Training for mental health crises must cease to be optional and become a universal, foundational requirement. The Crisis Intervention Team (CIT) model, which originated in Memphis, Tennessee, is the gold standard. It is a 40-hour program that teaches officers how to:
- Identify: Recognize the signs and symptoms of common mental illnesses.
- De-escalate: Employ communication techniques that reduce tension and foster trust.
- Refer: Safely transport individuals to appropriate mental health facilities rather than jail.
Every local department across the country must adopt and enforce this model. When a call comes in flagged as a mental health crisis, the immediate, mandated response must be a CIT-trained officer who understands the fundamental principle: slow down, talk down, bring help.
B. The Rise of Alternative Response Teams (The 'Third Way')
The most effective reform is removing armed law enforcement from non-violent mental health calls entirely. We must invest heavily in Alternative Response Teams (ARTs)—sometimes called co-response or unarmed civilian response models.
These teams consist of mental health professionals, social workers, and/or paramedics. Models like CAHOOTS in Eugene, Oregon, or the STAR program in Denver, Colorado, have demonstrated staggering success:
- Safety: They are highly effective at de-escalating crises without the use of force.
- Effectiveness: They provide immediate clinical care and connection to long-term resources.
- Efficiency: They free up police officers to focus on violent crime, saving taxpayer money on unnecessary arrests, court costs, and emergency room visits.
When a person is having a breakdown, they need clinical help, not confrontation. We must shift the funding and the responsibility to the appropriate professionals.
C. Accountability and Transparency
Systemic change also requires a robust system of accountability. When a life is lost during a crisis intervention, the circumstances must be reviewed by independent, external bodies—including mental health professionals—to determine if established crisis protocols were followed. Failure to follow these protocols, especially leading to death, must result in meaningful consequences to enforce the gravity of this specialized responsibility.
Part IV: A Personal Plea for a Collective Conscience
To lose a friend so unnecessarily is to live with a wound that will never fully heal. The questions—Could someone else have answered the call? Did they have to bring a weapon? Why didn't they just talk to him?—echo endlessly.
We can never bring our friend back. But we can—and we must—ensure that their memory becomes a catalyst for a seismic shift in our societal response to suffering.
If you believe in the inherent value of every human life; if you believe that a mental health crisis is a medical emergency, not a criminal matter; and if you believe that a badge carries a responsibility of guardianship, not just enforcement, then you must act.
This is not a political issue; it is a moral issue. We are all susceptible to crisis, and the measure of a truly compassionate society is how it treats those who are struggling. Let us collectively demand a world where no person in turmoil, down on their luck, is met with deadly indifference.
We owe it to our dear friend, and to every other soul who deserved help but found hostility, to make sure this never happens again.
Take Action: Contact your local city council, mayor, and police oversight committees. Demand funding for Alternative Response Teams and mandatory Crisis Intervention Team training for every officer.
If you or someone you know is struggling or in crisis, please reach out. Help is available. Call or text 988 anytime in the US and Canada to connect with the Suicide & Crisis Lifeline.