I wanted to share some thoughts and observations with you from June 27. It was such an intense, emotional experience that reminded me that we are all truly family in this profession. Some of what I saw has changed me forever, and that is why I wanted to share with those of you who didn’t have the opportunity to attend.

I had the privilege and honor to attend Deputy Rich Herzog’s funeral in Bellevue. On our way to the motorcade meeting area many thoughts went through my head: a fallen hero, “Why?”, his family, his fellow officers, honor, respect … so many things.

When we got to the staging area there were police cars as far as the eye could see. Some said every agency in the Pacific Northwest was represented. There were cars there from Oregon, Idaho, Canada and all parts of Washington. The actual motorcade ended up being eight miles (approximately an hour) long. I would guess at least 400 units. What an immense show of support, and what a message to the Herzog family.

As the processional went through New Castle the rain began. In the pouring rain hundreds of people lined the streets — silent. Many were crying, holding hands, waving American flags, so many just standing tall with their hands over their hearts. Little children showed signs of “thank you” and some gave salutes.

The route looped around to the memorial site where Deputy Herzog was murdered. As we entered the loop, the police units that had just been by the site were passing us. I could see officers crying in their cars.

As we came upon the memorial site there were two ladder trucks, with ladders extended over the roadway. Firefighters in dress uniforms lined the road, standing in the rain saluting. Two King County officers had their cars cradling the actual site, standing guard over it.

As we proceeded to the service in Burien, I-405 was shut-down for the motorcade. As far as I could see, in front and behind us were police cars … for miles. It was stunning, absolutely awesome and breath-taking. Traffic in the northbound lane stopped and people stepped out of their cars, with their hands over their hearts. Construction workers silenced their machines, standing with their hard hats over their hearts. We passed several schools that had empty school buses parked near the roadway with their flashers on. Employees stepped out of businesses and stood silently.

We passed one empty parking lot, and there stood a single elderly veteran in his full dress uniform standing at attention in the pouring rain, saluting every police car that passed him. I will never forget that as long as I live. He was drenched and had to have stood there for over an hour, saluting every car. He looked so fragile in his old age, but there he stood.

People lined the overpasses on the interstate, including fire rigs with all their crew standing at attention. Some draped flags over for the passing units below, some held open hands out to us that felt like a friend’s hug. Again, many children, as we went along we listened to the coverage via radio and one small child said that “people don’t like it when police officers die.”

At the service I sat with the law enforcement personnel. The Christian Faith Center is huge, I could not even see the stage, but I was surrounded by literally a thousand officers. It was like a sea of blue and green. Suddenly I felt the overwhelming reminder that this is our family. As I looked around it was almost unbelievable, so many officers, and each one my brother or sister “in law.” And each one is willing to give their lives for me or anyone else they protect. And dispatchers who protect and watch over all these officers, we all worry about them and support them.

As the service progressed, the amazing honor and ceremony given also reminded me that we serve heroes. And you know what? That includes dispatchers. I sat in awe realizing every single shift every one of those thousand and the million others across the nation put their lives on the line, accepting this danger to protect us. They would, have and do give their lives for the people they serve.

In listening to the speakers, during the horrible attack Deputy Herzog was trying to draw the fire away from innocent bystanders. A letter was read from a woman who witnessed the attack, she wrote that she was running her son to safety and did not realize the deputy got shot, laying down his own life for her safety.

As we reflect on this, the selfless giving of a life in the line of duty, the senseless taking of life, the outpouring of love and support from so many people we’ve never met, we need to remember that there is a public out there who lives and cares for our law enforcement family. In our day-to-day professional lives we tend to deal with the “other” side of the crowd and sometimes lose that perspective.

Thanks for bearing with me and I hope that in some way you feel able to have shared the experience and know the love and support that is out there for us.

Kelly Crownover is an I-COM dispatcher and wife of an Island County Sheriff’s deputy.