Firm, Fair and Friendly

Constable McKechnie at Millgrove School

In front of our old house on Millgrove Drive

Some of you know my Dad as Sandy or Mr. McKechnie or maybe as Corporal McKechnie. Some of you might remember him as “Alexis’ and Cam’s dad” even. However, I think a lot of you might remember him as “Constable McKechnie”, the policeman who came and walked around the school during recess, chatting with you about staying safe, listening to you tell him about “this one time. . .” and maybe giving you a sticker or pencil or lapel pin.



I’m writing this for you today. Well, for you, and in honor of my dad. Today, June 26, my Dad, Corporal McKechnie, known by many as Constable McKechnie, is retiring from the RCMP after over 25 years of service.

I could write pages on being an RCMP family, about my dad’s stories, about how proud I am of him, my memories of him. Seriously, pages worth of memories. However, I’ve decided to try and impart a couple of things in this post in honor of dad’s retirement. The first is his policing philosophy.

I want you to know and be assured that the “nice policeman” who talked to you on the playground really was a truly kind and fair police officer throughout his career. It may seem biased coming from me, but I say this feeling confident that hundreds of people that have dealt with my dad through the years would back me up.

Dad’s policing philosophy has always been “Firm, Fair and Friendly”. He has a gift for speaking to people, understanding them and relating to them. Dad taught us that people end up in bad situations because they’ve made poor choices. This does not necessarily mean that they are “bad”, “rotten” or unworthy of kindness. He is a firm advocate that in day-to-day dealings police officers should be treating men and women the way that they would want their own mother or father, brother or sister treated. It was always noted that authority in the law did not give a police officer the right to act as though they were a “better breed” than the regular citizen.

In fact, when my dad came to Millgrove School to walk around and talk to us during recess it was because he wanted you to learn from a young age that he was not an enemy; that he was there to help you; that police officers can be trusted.

I can’t tell you how many times we would meet a client of my dad’s while we were grocery shopping who would tell me what a wonderful man my father was, about how much he had helped them in their situation. Even when dad was dealing with people who were on the wrong side of the law people thanked him! Some of these folks turned their lives around eventually and remembered dad from their more troubled youth. That’s another thing that I’m glad dad taught me - that people can change. Not every one does, but it is possible. People should not be considered write-offs.

Since being transferred to Red Deer, Dad has been the head of the Domestic Violence Unit. He’s been working with women who have been abused by the men in their lives and concurrently has also been encouraging those men who want to change their abusive behavior.

However, in all of the good work that my dad has been doing through the years we all  know that the world can be a dark and scary place. So I want to impart a second thought. I would like to talk about what it’s like to send your dad to work every day in this sometimes disparaged world. I want to write this too for all of my friends who now work in emergency services.

Dancing at his Depot Graduation

As a paramedic who grew up with a parent in emergency services I feel I have a view from both sides. I remember lying in bed as a little girl praying to God, bargaining with God, that I would be a good girl if only he would keep my daddy safe from the bad guys. I prayed to God that I would never hear the doorbell in the middle of the night. I knew that would mean my daddy was dead.
One morning, when I was about 10, I woke up and heard my parents laughing in the kitchen. I walked in and saw my dad, stitches in his head, a bloody bandage around his elbow. I distinctly remember the feeling of my heart dropping into my stomach and I sat down right there on the floor. But dad laughed at one of his own jokes before coming to give me a hug and assuring me that he was alright, that he had just gotten into a tumble with someone who had stopped taking their medications.
When I was 20 my mom and I woke up one morning to discover that Dad had never come home. He wasn’t answering the phone. Mom called the dispatch center and asked where he was. Again the feeling of dread returned when the dispatcher became panicky realizing that no one knew what had happened to him. Luckily this also had a happy ending as dad was at an emergency scene and had a miscommunication with dispatch. We all know that other police families have not been so blessed.

I have heard some of my coworkers discuss how they feel guilty when they have to miss their kid’s events due to shift schedules. I would say that although I’m sure there were times when I was disappointed that my dad couldn’t be there, I don’t have any actual memories of disappointment. I remember always being proud that my dad’s job was to help people. I remember the events that he did make it to, especially the ones that he came to in uniform. As long as you make the most of the time you spend with your children and as long as you don’t bring the job home with you, your profession will not wreck your children.

I would like to end with a request. Likely, many of us have had an unpleasant experience with a police officer, I know I have. On top of that the news pelts us with stories of police shootings, brutality, and unprofessional conduct. Before you paint all police officers with the same brush, before you find a police officer guilty in your own judgement, before you post some story about police brutality in a mob situation and especially before you talk disparagingly about the police in the presence of your children, remember the little children who are praying that their daddy comes home safe. Consider that for every police officer who is rude, impatient and arrogant there is one good one like my dad.

I would ask you to stop and remember Constable McKechnie, that kind policeman that talked to you at recess.

My Mom's Story: Part V - Career Woman

My mother is an artist. I’m not sure many people are aware of this. I think this is because it’s such a natural talent - such a part of her that it doesn’t come up in conversation. It’s as natural to her as walking. No one brags that they can walk. Of course, the difference is that not everyone can paint.

Her medium is water colour and her inspiration is usually scenery. The mountains, flowers, farms, deer were all committed to canvas in a stunning combination of different shades of colour. I would love to be able to dissect and combine colour and light the way my mother does. Actually, I would love to have just a sliver of my mom’s artistic talent. I have been fortunate enough to inherit her creativity but I seem to often lack the finer artistic skill it sometimes takes to carry out my ideas. My mom’s combined talents of creativity and art have given her what we call “The Martha Stewart Touch.” This is evident as soon as you walk into my parent’s house. It’s never mattered how much money my parents had to play with - our family homes have always looked like the covers of magazines. Parties that my mom hosted had handmade chocolates swans and butterflies, animals cut out of melons and napkins folded like origami. When I went into Grade One we were supposed to bring one of our dad’s old shirts to wear when we were painting in art class. While the other little kids were wearing over-sized shirts with the sleeves rolled up, my old shirt had been altered in length, had sleeves with elastics in them, had velcro to replace the buttons and had my name on the front in puffy paint.

I can guess that most of you have drawn the conclusion that she was obviously a stay-at-home mom. You would be correct. My mom did choose to stay at home to look after my brother and me. My parents couldn’t afford this arrangement when I was born so I did spend the first few years of my life at a day care, but luckily this was an option after we came to Alberta. But as any stay-at-home mother will attest it is still a full-time job. Fortunately, my mom was also blessed with above average organizational skills, so I think she probably accomplished more in a day than average. Besides managing our household my mom volunteered, was part of a women’s group and made numerous craft projects which she sold at the local Farmer’s Market. She has also sold a number of her paintings at local art galleries throughout the years.

When I was 13 my mom decided to go back to work. She got a job as a receptionist at a large and reputable catering company. Not long after, the boss realized that her talents and her positive, cheery people skills could be utilized further and she was promoted to a Sales Representative. This usually meant dealing with “bridezillas” while they booked a date, the food and a venue. Customers valued her recommendations on colours, tablecloths and even centre pieces. My mom often went to these weddings personally to make sure the supper went off without a hitch. In 2001, when Edmonton hosted the World Championships my mom was chosen to manage the catering and design all centre pieces and decorations at the VIP Banquet at Fort Edmonton Park. She hired me to be her assistant that night and I got to see her work her magic as she did set up and quality control throughout. At one point she noticed that a dish hadn’t made it out onto the Royals buffet line and when she went to put it out on the table she unknowingly bumped into HRH Prince Edward as he and Sophie were spooning up supper. This will forever be a family story.

When the RCMP informed us that we would be leaving our home to move to Forestburg my mom had to leave her career in the catering industry behind. She had her hands full looking after her two kids. We were teenagers when we were given the decree to pack up and move to the rural town of just over 800 people and we were devastated. At 17, my parents supported my decision to stay in Spruce Grove and live on my own while I finished high school with my friends. However, my mom endured many a teary phone call from me as I related my loneliness at not being with my family. My brother had it harder as he was too young to stay behind, but old enough to know it wouldn’t be easy fitting in to a rural school where he would be the outsider that didn’t grow up there. He was also a star soccer player at a very high tier in Stony Plain. My mom committed to making the two hour drive twice a week with him so that he could continue to practice and play with his team. On top of that she got a job at the popular local deli making and serving meals. Her job became helping her family settle in to its new surroundings and circumstances. It couldn’t have been easy. The years that we spent in Forestburg changed Cam and I forever though. Cam found the love of his life and I made a financial footprint with two careers and an investment in real estate. I also learned that I much prefer rural living to being in the city. I owe all of that to my Mom.

My parents were transferred to Red Deer. Another “hub” as the RCMP calls it. My mom didn’t waste time in getting her resume out. She got a job at the local Winners/Homesense store. The job was the basic cashier/shelf stocking job. Some people may scoff at this because she was too highly qualified. I think that’s the problem with some people these days though. There’s such an attitude of entitlement. People don’t see far enough into the future to realize that what seems like a job “below” your talents or capabilities now may lead to a challenging and rewarding career path. My mom is excellent at seeing farther down the road. She also has such a positive attitude that she makes the best of everything, including the workplace. This attitude and dedication to her job has led her to be promoted three times (at least). Over a year ago the Winners corporation asked my Mom to manage one of their newest stores at Cross Iron Mills just outside of Calgary. She’s achieved the second highest sales in Western Canada after just one year and she’s aiming to be the number 1 store. The big chiefs at Winners have future plans for her as well and are moulding her for her next promotion. Watch for her name, she’ll probably be running all the stores in the country in a few years.

My mom chose to stay home with her kids. She’s moved around the province for her husband’s career. When she decided to re-enter the workforce she started small and worked her way up with determination, dedication and a positive attitude. She doesn’t have fancy degrees or letters after her name but she’s a successful business woman as well as a wife and mother. Not bad for a stay-at-home mom eh?


(Mom and her girls wearing matching "Shelter From the Storm" t-shirts, a charity for abused women that Winners supports. See www.shelterfromthestorm.ca)

There are only two more installments left in this series. Stay tuned!