Standing Next to a Father as He Tells His Son Goodbye

We took his son to jail for committing murder; it was heartbreaking talking with him as we did.

As I stood next to him, listening to him slowly speak, I saw a single tear fall from his eye.

Arresting his son

Looking for a violent gang member who was wanted for a violent murder, we hit a Lodi, California house. Entering the place, we first encountered the family innocently living their daily life. Mom was in the kitchen, making tamales, dad and younger siblings in the living room watching television. Grandma was out back, tending the stove to steam the tamales.

As we entered the house in full raid gear, handguns, and rifles out, yelling as we entered for everyone to get on the ground, I noticed the shock and disbelief on their faces as each was handcuffed face down for safety. We methodically moved through the house, carefully ensuring not only our safety but that of the innocent people and the suspect.

We found him in his bedroom, hiding the gun that was used to take another life. He was angry and did not go easily, as many violent gang members do. As we handcuffed him and led him out to the living room, he grew more furious as he saw that his entire family had also been handcuffed.

As he yelled and grew angrier, I told him he should have thought about them when he killed someone, but that they would be alright. We placed him on a chair in the living room. He could see his family as we unhand-cuffed them and sat them on the couch. His family could also see him.

The questions

Jose’s father started asking questions as the house was searched and saw as we brought the weapon, clothing, and other items of evidence out to the kitchen table.

I gave Jose a copy of the warrant, and as he read it, I slowly explained why we were there. As he continued to read the warrant, he stopped asking questions and began to explain in Spanish to his wife and mother, and as he did, the look of initial disbelief turning to heartbreak was challenging to watch. Jose was solemn and reserved.

I can not imagine how difficult it was for him to tell his wife that their son had taken a person’s life, and he was going to jail, possibly for life. As she heard this, she looked at her son with an expression that can only be described as devastation.

Telling his son goodbye

As we prepared to leave the house, the family went into the backyard, except the father. At first, he stayed and watched as we prepared to take his son until he could take no more. He walked to the front porch, and I walked with him.

Jose was silent at first, I could feel his pain, and as his son was brought from the house to the waiting patrol car, he started to speak with me. I was quiet, just listening.

He told me he had come from Mexico in the ’70s when he was a young man, to work and provide for his family that remained in Mexico. He started as a farm laborer and worked his way up to become a manager, and when he finally received his permission to live in the United States, he brought his family to be with him.

Jose wanted a better life for his children, better opportunities than what they could find in Mexico. He had worked hard, coming here illegally at first, living in substandard farm camps, working 12 plus hours a day in the fields. He sent money home to support his family and still could save and buy his own house. Jose was living the American dream.

He told me how difficult it was to see his oldest fall into the gang life, how he tried to keep him safe, and about his efforts to get him out of the criminal life, and the frustration that his son continued to fall further into a bad life.

He also said to me, as a father, the most profound and heartbreaking thing I have heard from another father. That his life’s work, everything he had done and achieved, was a waste and failure now that his eldest son was going to prison.

As we escorted his son past him, I heard him say something quietly to his son, but do not know what he said. His son looked at him and started to cry. I stood next to this honorable man, silently, as we watched the patrol car drive away. I looked at him to say goodbye and saw a tear fall down his cheek. I put my hand on his shoulder and said the only thing that would come, I’m sorry.

Conclusion

I share this story with you to help you understand that as Law Enforcement, one of the most challenging things we have to do is not dealing with the criminals. It is dealing with the pain left behind. That pain of that destruction is something that you can not prepare for, no one tells you about it, no one talks about it. It is too much.