10 min read
I am a writer yet, I like numbers. It is a pretty big like…very close to the level of love.
Don’t get me wrong, I don’t like when I am forced to stare at numbers for hours on end and come to some sort of a mathematical conclusion in a complex/structured/educational sort of way (yawn…), but, I do like it when things “add up”. Maybe it is my inner Brenè Brown coming out, but it truly brings me great satisfaction when things just make sense…if that makes any sense.
In her arguably most-popular TED Talk (The Power of Vulnerability) Brené Brown makes special mention of a quote from a former professor that has stuck with her for many years. It simply states, “If you can’t measure it, it doesn’t exist.”
If only it were that simple.
Numbers to me have a magical way of giving a definitive answer however, with human beings…and all of our life complexities, finding a magical “answer” is (as Brené further attests to in her research), more of a challenging and elusive task. For me, this discovery piece (along with the discovery process itself) is probably the key reason why I was originally drawn to journalism as a career. The research, the interviewing, the digging and the ever-questioning everything all encompassed the elusive search for the “why”. Playing journalist let me peek behind the scenes and, let me gain a little insight into the bigger picture…including the who what when wheres and WHYS of other lives.
Journalism in this way is very similar to policing….the difference being that in policing, there is also a risk of DEATH while one works to uncover the who what when wheres and WHYS. Choosing to face DEATH on a daily basis as part of my profession is definitely out of my comfort zone but, I suppose that maybe this helps to explain the connection that I have to one of my absolute favourite people in the world.
His name is Stu Gillett and before his official retirement in 2013 he spent 34 years in law enforcement. Stu and I initially met under intense circumstances when my fresh and promising journalism career path crossed his well-established policing career path and, to this day I can still vividly sense and feel all that surrounded our impactful first connection. It was the day that set the tone for my life’s future direction.
I had just been rescued from spending nine days in forced captivity in the woods with, to put it mildly, a messed up nutjob. It was one of those summery-warm beach-worthy days that Vancouverites LOVE to brag about (ie, look at us Canada…this is what it’s like here EVERY DAY!!) but, for Detective Stu Gillett, his focus on that day was on something more serious than the sunshine. It was July 11, 1992 and in the week leading up to this day Detective Gillett and his partner had been immersed in a whirlwind world of whys, related to me…and the mystery of my whereabouts.
I had officially become a missing person in the City of Vancouver (BC) on July 4, 1992, and they were tasked with the job of finding me. At that time in the Vancouver Police Department (VPD), Robbery Detectives also handled the Missing Persons cases.
“Your case was a pivotal point in my career,” Stu told me in a recent catch-up chat. “It was a whodunit and that kind of stuff just didn’t happen in Vancouver…typically people don’t just disappear.”
I had only moved to Vancouver a few months before and all that the police knew for sure was that after working alone in my retail job the money had gone missing…and, both me and my car had not returned home. The last date that I was seen was July 3, 1992.
What they (the police) would later learn is that I had been robbed at closing time and then walked for close to two hours in rush-hour traffic at gunpoint across a busy 6-lane bridge, down many side streets and through established bustling neighbourhoods from Vancouver to a makeshift camp in a wooded area beside the Trans Canada Highway in North Vancouver…whew…and, NO ONE had seen me.
No one noticed my 21-year-old self walking stone-faced dressed in my clean and presentable casual/business attire alongside a disheveled balding much older male with filthy stained clothing. No one noticed him forcing me to walk in-step with him, gun in pocket…jabbing into my ribs.
No one driving by on the busy highway saw him lead me up a grassy embankment into the bushes….and if they did, no one thought this scene was unusual.
As far as the police investigation went, I literally disappeared without a trace. Things just didn’t add up, and, my disappearance just didn’t make sense.
But then, my miraculous day of “DELIVERANCE” happened…and, thanks to some quick-thinking policing, I was found. And, soon after, I met Stu.
To the police, the who what when wheres and whys of it all didn’t totally make sense yet but, the ultimate goal was achieved. The Missing Person Case was closed and, I was alive.
“I will never forget the day that my partner and I came to Lions Gate Hospital to see you,” says Stu, speaking of his recollection of our first meeting. “You hadn’t had a chance to get cleaned up yet and I grabbed your hand. It was all I could do not to cry…you became human.”
In my memory files the recollection of our first meeting is different, although equally heavy on the element of human connection. My first memory of Stu was after my hospital visit…after I had been examined by the doctors, endured all the initial necessary medical tests, SHOWERED and was heading into the police station for more questioning.
My police car transport pulled into the general parking lot and, in what seemed like the fraction of the second that it took me to step my big toe out onto the pavement, the media people (donning their cameras and microphones and eager faces…) closed in…chattering, firing off random questions, and hovering…like vultures.
I stared blankly forward…looking at nothing, however, it took all of my might not to flip up my middle finger and shove it in their faces. These people were supposed to be my allies…my crew. These people were living “the dream” in the career that I moved to Vancouver to BE. These people were NOT practicing the ethical values that had been drilled into our naïve malleable brains in journalism school….and why did they keep asking me how I was feeling?
I remember feeling so much rage in that moment…for them specifically, and all of the insensitivity that they were projecting my way. But, I just kept walking, in silence…and then, in what seemed like the next fraction of that same second a large protective-bear presence was by my side.
It was Stu…in all of his plain-clothed police gloriousness.
“Back OFF,” he simply commanded with a strong emphasis on “OFF” along with a raised outstretched hand gesture to further indicate the importance of this directive. And they obeyed. And stopped. And I…felt like I could breathe.
Stu was just doing his job, but that moment…with that protective gesture, and those two words…is forever embedded as significantly important in my cerebral filing system. THAT moment is where my connection to him became solid. He got me…and I felt safe.
What is even more amazing is that out of that insanity grew a lifelong friendship between myself and Stu (and his family!) that continues to grow and evolve to this day….including many Christmas, Thanksgiving, Wedding and Graduation celebrations.
“It is a highly unusual relationship that followed all of that,” says Stu. “And, in the police world one that I have frequently been criticized for…but, for me, you have to understand that it is very rare that we get to meet the people that we are looking for.”
For us, this connection, and this direction, just worked. It just made sense. And to explain why…well, I am going to defer back to the talented Ms. Brené to help me possibly rationalize the “formula” that made this work for us.
In the same Power of Vulnerability TED Talk referenced at the beginning of this post, Brené says, “It doesn’t matter whether you talk to people who work in social justice and mental health and abuse and neglect, what we know is that connection, the ability to feel connected, is — neurobiologically how we’re wired — it’s why we’re here.”
It’s so seemingly simple…and, a good reminder…but still, how do you measure connection?
Stu’s policing career included detective roles in robbery, missing persons, homicide and property crime. A sampling of some of the standard profession-related experiences Stu faced in his career include narrowly dodging a targeted bullet when working as a Conservation Officer, attempting (sadly, unsuccessfully) to stop a distraught young woman from jumping to her death, intercepting countless substance-fueled disputes and, working on an international policing team to solve a high-profile kidnapping/extortion case.
In my opinion, one would need to be a fairly resilient person to not let any ONE of those experiences pack some long-lasting psychological punch, and, one could argue that his career has put him face-to-face with a lot more life-scarring content than I could ever imagine…a lot more than I experienced with my one bad guy.
But with us, we don’t compare…and, until now, we have rarely even talked about those sides of our lives. We just simply connect, as human beings…on the unspoken. And for me, it helps that (like me) Stu has also spent a lifetime “learning” about how to manage the impact of trauma.
According to Gillett, police officers survive in this line of work by disassociating…become the detached observer. He says it is how you last. One of Gillett’s mentors (a Senior Detective) used to live by the mantra, ‘I don’t suffer from stress…I’m a carrier’.
“It was a joke,” says Gillett. “Although that thinking is entirely apropos in policing.”
Simply put, Stu’s mission was to solve crimes and be a positive presence in the community.
Simply put, my mission (for 28…going on 29 years AFTER surviving a crime) was just to LIVE….and NOW it is to be a positive voice in communicating the impact of trauma.
And THIS, is our connection…but again, it really isn’t easily measurable, which…in a way, makes me rethink my LOVE of numbers.
Maybe…
As per my last post I have a strong connection to the #21…in particular the frequency of its occurrence, in my life. Maybe it’s more that I look for patterns in numbers, and have a LOVE for the symbolism that they hold….like the fact that Stu started his law enforcement career at the age of 21, which was in 1971 (incidentally, the same year that I was born), and the additional fun fact that we both have daughters who share the exact same birth date, which falls on the 21st day of the exact same month…just over 21 years apart. 😉
But, maybe that’s just me…seeking serendipity…and meaning, as I do.
All in all I feel that all that really matters is wrapping our heads around the possibility that there is an intangible depth to this connection stuff that really does just add up. IT is just about being human, and that makes sense to Stu and I.
This is reality. Our reality…one that many can probably relate to. Because in truth, life typically doesn’t have a magical formula that will lead to the exact desired end result. And that’s OK.
Simply put, with Stu and I, we have found a positive connection through our trauma.
I will be featuring Stu and his “Detective Perspective” often in future blog posts and I invite you to keep coming back to hear what he has to say. He really is a pretty insightful guy…and kind of funny too!
IT is life
IT changes…and that’s OK
IT is all OK
Through stories and connections planITgirl’s goal is to help people who have been impacted by trauma to understand what trauma is, and how it may be impacting them…or someone they know.
The founder is a writer and speaker who strives to share her personal journey of living with trauma and PTSD in a forward-thinking, positive, professional and connective format.
If you feel (or care for someone who feels) lost, isolated, different, stuck and misunderstood, we hope the thoughts, stories and connections shared will resonate with you.