The Paul Childs story has been told again and again. In 2003, Denver police responded to a call in northeast Denver that a developmentally disabled teenager was wielding a knife. The boy did not respond to the order to drop the weapon, and in an instant, he was dead, shot three times by a police officer who said he feared for his life.
Lawsuits were filed. Investigations were conducted. The community was understandably outraged.
Meanwhile, other police officers around town were responding to crises with empathy, compassion and skill.
Nobody noticed.
One of those incidents occurred on New Year’s Eve.
Police were called to a bridge over I-25 where they found a distraught teenager, dressed in black, teetering on the brink of suicide. He was sitting on the narrow ledge outside the barriers, with his feet dangling over the highway. He spoke only Spanish.
Two officers, both products of the Crisis Intervention Training program, and another who was fluent in Spanish spent two hours talking to the boy. Traffic was halted on the highway below, and a Fire Department bucket truck was dispatched.
Finally, with the rescue carefully choreographed, firefighters and police officers grabbed the boy, lowered him to the street in the bucket and saved his life.
On Oct. 20, the Denver chapter of the National Alliance for the Mentally Ill will honor these and some of the other police officers who have quietly, competently defused deadly situations and saved lives.
It’s happening more frequently, said Sandy Kuark, president of NAMI Denver. And that’s entirely by design.
NAMI has been working with the Denver Police Department since 2000 to develop and implement CIT. After the Childs shooting, the department ratcheted up the program, and more than 400 Denver police officers have completed the intensive 40-hour course so far.
“The criminal justice system is truly the community’s primary care provider for people with mental disorders,” said Sgt. Michael Anderson, coordinator of the CIT program.
As funds for treating mental illness have been cut from state budgets, more seriously mentally ill people have become homeless or have been left to deal with serious conditions without medications or professional help. When a crisis occurs, it’s the police – not psychiatrists – who are called to the scene.
The CIT program is taught almost entirely by volunteer professionals – psychiatrists, psychologists and counselors – who give police officers skills so they can tell the difference between your garden-variety intoxicated loudmouth and someone in the throes of a psychotic episode.
Actors portray everything from people exhibiting bizarre behavior during traffic stops to hostage situations.
“We teach time, talk and tactics,” said Anderson. “It gives the officers an extra tool for handling people with mental disorders.”
Among the instructors in the program is a retired doctor who describes his personal struggle with mental illness.
The goal of CIT is to reduce the number of mentally ill and disabled people who end up in jails and in emergency rooms, Anderson said. Once officers are called to the scene and calm the situation, they help people find resources for treatment. Follow-up calls are made to make sure the people are getting the help they need.
“It does improve the outcomes for people with mental illnesses,” said Kuark.
“Even the skeptics are convinced it works,” said Anderson.
So let’s raise a glass to 24 heroic police officers: Phil Ashton, Wilfred Beliveau, Kevin Osborne, Tom Raspanti, Dean Christopherson, Timothy Campbell, Timothy Schwindt, Mardie Walker, Adam Rives, Christopher Shotts, David Knoth, Jose Palomares, David Harris, Aleta Coleman, James Haney, James Kukuris, Dino Gavito, Mike Gassman, Jose Garcia, Vince Porter, A.B. Allen, Rayford Brown, Joey Gasca and John Sisneros.
Here’s to the good guys.
Diane Carman’s column appears Sunday, Tuesday and Thursday. She can be reached at 303-820-1489 or dcarman@denverpost.com.
