Recently, I had the opportunity to attend the elite FBI National
Academy Re-trainer Program--a group of 100 or more executive law enforcement
professionals from state, local, county, tribal, military, federal, and
international law enforcement agencies gathered to hone their
leadership skills. Participation in the
academy is by invitation only. As a consultant and business developer, I received
the opportunity to represent Insight Management Consulting, the organization
and leadership development firm I work for.
It was a place filled with some true American heroes – men
and women who risk their lives every day to protect “We the people”. Bashed by President Obama and his minions, criticized
by governors and local leaders, and attacked by members of the mainstream
media, I wondered what motivated these high caliber professionals to do what
they do every day. Despite all the
negative publicity, I discovered they are leaders who truly have the best
interest of others at heart, lend a hand, and walk the talk. Honorable
individuals, they genuinely care about people and personify leadership. One man in particular, Paul, with a thick
southern drawl became my personal hero.
On a damp and dark night, I was invited to join them at a
bon fire on the beach. The sky cast an eerie glare over the churning water as I
nonchalantly trekked across the deep dunes and onto the gritty expanse. I
approached a large pit about 6 feet round and 3 feet deep that reminded me of
the cavernous holes my sons dug in the sand on hot summer days in bygone years.
Nestled in the cavity, were brightly blazing reddish orange logs giving off
intense heat and radiantly lighting up the ominous night. It was ideal for warming
the body and soul on a cool spring evening by the galloping sea. While the
waves crashed the shore a short distance away, I stood with some of the
nation’s finest men and women, roasting marshmallows and listening to stories
of drama and adventure. There were searches in
scary places and high-speed chases. One burly guy, with the coarse tongue of a
sailor, told about piracy on the high sea. Real people. Real stories. Real
heroes.
The night grew blacker so I headed back to the hotel. The glowing beams from the fire were behind me
and the twinkling lights from the hotel towers were barely visible beyond the behemoth
mountains of sand ahead of me. A fierce windstorm the day before had whipped millions
of molecules of coarse granular crystals onto the walking path making it like a
slippery playground slide that even a rambunctious young boy would have had
difficulty climbing.
Wearing my rugged J41 water shoes (made by Jeep for
adventure) typically ideal for the beach, I began ascending the steep slope of
shifting sediment. Unable to get
traction beneath my feet, I kept slipping sideways like a car on a snow covered
street, and I crashed into the powdery heap of drifted sand hoping my rear
bumper wasn’t damaged.
Laying on my back with my bumper in the sand, laughing out
loud at my predicament, I had no sooner spread out my arms like a seagull in
flight to make an angel in the sand when a booming voice came from the darkness
behind me.
“MAMMMMM, IT LOOKS LIKE YA NEED SOME HALE-P. LET ME GIVE YA
A HAAAND.”
Before I knew it a strong hand was enveloping mine, lifting
me to my feet, and guiding me to solid ground.
“Mammmmm, that drift was as steep as Mt. Everest,” he
jokingly said. “Why, even a Mountain Goat would have slid down it sideways!”
“Well, I sure feel like an old goat,” I teased, wondering if
he could see my hot red face.
“I always wondered why policemen carry billy sticks.” I
continued. “Now I know. You use them to dig out silly old goats who get stuck
in the sand,” I wittingly replied.
It was better for me to spin my awkward situation with humor
than shrink back, in humiliation and tears. Brushing off the sand, along with
my shame, I walked back to the hotel sharing some hilarious moments with my personal
hero. Unfortunately, I failed to get
his name and wasn’t certain I’d recognize him in the light of day.
The next evening, a 27-year veteran law enforcement officer
from Horry County, SC was called to the lectern to entertain the audience after
dinner. I could hardly believe my eyes! The man who pulled me out of the
shifting sand and transformed my humiliation with humor was standing smack dab in
front of me spewing one wise crack after another with his deep southern drawl.
I had no idea my personal hero was a speaker, presenter,
trainer, and entertainer. I didn’t realize that THE CHIEF DEPUTY of the Horry
County Sherriff’s Office who has been a lifelong public servant and crisis
negotiator rescued me.
Not only that but my personal hero, openly proclaimed his
faith in Jesus Christ in front of an audience of one hundred or more executive
police officers while calling them to find their passion, live on purpose, and
be proud of their profession.
“It’s not the uniform that makes me a police officer,” he
said. “It’s not what’s on the outside that makes you who you are. It’s what’s
on the inside. We’re being encouraged to shine up on the outside,” he remarked,
“but we are failing at shining up the inside.”
He challenged them, and reminded me, to recognize the
difference between image and character, to reach down and make a difference,
and to be better husbands and fathers (well, I can’t be a better husband and
father, but I can be a better wife and mother). As though he was speaking my
heart, he said, “Life is short. Spend it with those you love, doing the things
you love.”
Lastly, he quipped, “Use your experiences to provide comfort
in darkness,” the very thing he did for me the night before. Paul Butler was my
personal hero not only because he pulled this old goat out of the sand, but
also because he personified leadership by having the best interest of others at
heart, lent a hand, and walked the talk.
My heart was touched when God sent His Chief Deputy to lend
me a hand and lift me up when I was having a crisis in shifting sand.
I was right on the
cliff-edge, ready to fall,
when God grabbed and held me.
God’s my strength, he’s also my song,
and now he’s my salvation.
Ps 118:13-14 MSG
This is similar to the sandy slope I had to climb in the dark. I couldn't even climb it in the light of day.
