Forgive yourself and others can forgive you, too
Nearly 30 years ago, as a police officer, I had multiple contacts with an incorrigible youth who was about 15 or 16 years old. We’ll just call him “Rory Richards.” Rory was man-sized. He was at least 6’2” and weighed about 230 pounds… a big kid. Rory was also a lot of trouble for his mother, school officials, and the local police. He was into drug use, vandalism, and theft… that’s more than garden variety incorrigibleness.
I remember watching an old Pat Boone movie titled, “April Love,” late one night. Pat’s character, Nick Conover, was a youth who made mistakes and got into trouble with the law for joyriding. Something Rory would have done if he got the chance. At the end of the movie, the sheriff prepares to arrest “Nick” for driving without a license and send him back to jail. However, Nick’s friends vouched for him, and the sheriff released him. That was a close call for Nick. He was looking at jail time for driving without a license. Today’s world is a lot different. Kids have to do something pretty bad to get booked into juvenile hall.
Rory was the kind of teenager who needed to get booked into the hall.
There were lots of cops regularly dispatched to Rory’s home. He had a couple of teen brothers, and the entire family was uncooperative on most occasions and combative on other occasions. There was no father in the home. Police dispatchers would always send an extra officer to Richards’ residence when a 9-1-1 call involving Rory and his brothers came to the police department.
I was dispatched to Rory’s home nearly 30 years ago to pick him up and transport him to juvenile hall on the orders of his probation officer. Rory didn’t want to go. He resisted getting into the back of my patrol vehicle, but my cover officer surprised Rory by bending him at the waist and “guiding” Rory into the back seat. No more drama.
I heard later that Rory was involved in a serious fight on a local community college campus. He was not a student at the college. Did I mention that Rory was incorrigible? That’s when I kinda lost track of him.
Oh, maybe five or six years ago, I met another retired cop for lunch. He asked if I had heard anything about Rory since the days when local cops, including myself, would take Rory into custody. No. Well, it turns out that Rory is now working in the City’s public works department. You don’t say! I guess wonders will never cease.
As luck would have it, I was driving through town a year or so after that lunch meeting and I noticed a city crew repairing sections of a sidewalk next to a busy thoroughfare. I looked over to see a particularly tall crewmember pushing a wheelbarrow full of cement mix. Could it be? I drove a block past the work site, parked, and hurried back to where the crew was working.
I stopped next to some freshly poured concrete. Yes, it was Rory. I called his name, and he looked up. I pulled my pandemic mask off and said my name. Rory remembered and smiled. I told him that I had heard he was working for the City after turning his life around. Rory, now a lot more articulate than the surly teenager who almost always seemed to be in trouble, nodded affirmatively before unashamedly telling me how his life had changed.
Football was a big part of his transformation. He played football at our local high school and that made all the difference. He qualified for an athletic scholarship and finished college at a west coast state university. Rory was the first person in his family to earn a college degree. He met the woman of his dreams almost 25 years ago, and he started working for the city as an entry-level maintenance crewmember. Rory is now father to four children, and he is buying a home in the East Bay.
I just kept telling Rory how proud I was of him. I had seen too many young people unable to escape their circumstances or worse… continue down a destructive path. I was just elated; I’m sure Rory could tell how happy I was to hear his story.
I caught him up with what I had been doing since retiring from the police department. I mentioned offhandedly that I helped the head football coach at a high school in a nearby town by attending the varsity games and preparing stat reports and press releases for the school. Rory’s eyes lit up. It’s a small world. The coach at that nearby high school was Rory’s first high school football coach decades earlier. Rory’s coach and I were buddies. Here’s what happened so many years ago… the coach approached Rory at school one day… remember, Rory was a big kid… and recruited Rory to play defensive line. Rory said he couldn’t play because he was on probation. The coach went to bat for Rory and contacted Rory’s probation officer to make a deal. The coach agreed to take responsibility for Rory on game days. He would supervise Rory on Friday nights then drive Rory to juvenile hall after the game so Rory could spend the rest of the weekend in detention. The arrangement worked.
Soon, as a young adult, Rory found himself out of school and off probation with no prospects. College? No… he had missed too many classes during his four years in high school to qualify for college admission. He was OK with getting a job and moving on with his life. Football to the rescue again. Rory met the coach of the local community college football team. The coach told Rory that he was going to start playing football… now. If Rory didn’t start playing right away, he would never get another chance to be part of football team again. Rory played and he was wildly successful. He earned all-state honors as a defensive lineman which led to a scholarship offer at an out-of-state public university.
Rory has told his story many times; he is justifiably proud of what he has accomplished. He was headed down the wrong path, but he started to grow up, take stock of where he was going in life, and start making some changes. It worked out.
I told Rory again how proud I was of the things he had done in the face of great adversity. It was not easy and it took years to finally get on the narrow path. It made me feel good inside to see someone most likely destined to become a statistic turn toward living a good life. We shook hands, and I told him that if I see him around town and he can break free for a few minutes, I’d love to buy him a cup of coffee. We said good-bye.
I emailed Rory’s high school football coach and shared the details of my chance encounter with Rory. I ended the message with an “atta boy” for the coach. He believed in Rory. It just goes to show you what an impact a teacher, coach or caring adult can have on a young person’s life.
Copyright © 2025 by Ray Fowler
