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.

Heading into the Mission or Heading the Mission?

"Go ye therefore, and teach all nations, baptizing them in the name of the Father, and of the Son, and of the Holy Ghost:"   ~ Matthew 28:19

You know how Girl Guides have those sashes that extend from one shoulder to the hip? They're covered in badges that the girls have earned by study, participation or accomplishment. There's the badges that everyone gets for baking a cake or looking after their family pet or sewing a straight line. Then there's that one special badge. The one that not everyone achieves, the one that takes more sacrifice and determination to get. The one that the other girls look at and go, "wow, you have that badge!" For me it was my snowshoeing badge. Not very many little girls got that badge and it was one I was proud to have sewn on my sash (and we're talking old-fashioned-rope-web-rabbit-foot-tall-as-me-real-deal-snow-shoes here, none of that lightweight aluminum stuff we have today). 

**Well, in the Christian sub-culture it could be argued that we have figurative sashes that we sew little badges on to. There's the conversion badge and subsequent baptism badge, the Christmas nativity badge (probably another badge just for girls if you have the honour of playing Mary), the church choir badge, the faithful tither badge, the Holy Matrimony badge, Sunday school teacher badge, guest speaker badge, scripture reading badge, committee leader badge, song leader badge, soup kitchen badge, I could go on but I think you get it. Then there's THE badge. The one you'll get the most questions about, the most ooooohs and aaaaahs, the one that proves that you are a dedicated, self-sacrificing Christ follower. . .The Missionary Badge. Da, da, Duuuummmmmm. 

Some churches, like mine, put a lot of emphasis on going to the mission field. We look at missionaries the way that the public looks at firefighters. We think of words like duty, sacrifice, heroism and we do it all with a feeling of awe. How many years did you spend in the mission? Wow, really? What was it like? Are you fluent in three languages now? What was the hardest thing you saw? Which disaster were you helping with? Did you cure a disease? Did you get a disease? 

Okay, well, we're not all so forthcoming with those exact questions but I'm just trying to get across that an overseas mission is the "Holy Grail" of Christian Service. In saying all this I am in no way trying to take away from the importance and dedication and sacrifice of committing to an overseas mission. After all, it is commanded of us. My question is are we over-emphasizing the overseas mission? Obviously I'm arguing that we are indeed doing just that. 

I remember as a kid when our school would be fundraising for the needy in developing countries. My dad would often wonder out loud about how it was that we could find money to give to people in other countries but we still had homeless and starving people in our own country - our own cities for that matter. These thoughts always stuck with me. The same could be said about the Gospel in other countries. Sure, there are lots of folk who have never heard the Gospel overseas - however, there are a lot of people at home who have never heard the Gospel either, or worse, have never heard it in a way that makes sense to them. 

A few years ago I had the pleasure of doing a ride-along with an outstanding Halton Region Paramedic and fellow Christ-follower. He has been on several missions, including a year spent in Haiti where he and his family were amidst the chaos of the earthquake when it happened. At this time I had not been on a mission yet and I was talking over different options with him. Then he said something to me that I will never forget. He said, "You know, Lexi, the greatest mission field we have is in the workplace." The greatest mission field is not in a third world country with a different language. The greatest mission field is wherever you are right now - wherever God has led you to at this moment. 

That's a powerful and sobering thought. Powerful because you have a mission at this very moment and sobering because think about how you went about your day today. Did you treat it as an opportunity to be a witness for Christ? Your greatest mission field is right here in front of you - but so is the toughest.

Which leads me to another thought. So many of us get excited when we have the opportunity to leave on an overseas mission. I was very excited when I was called to a short-term medical mission in El Salvador. It's a life-changing experience. In fact, I would go as far to say that for many of us, an overseas mission changes us more than it changes the people we meet (take that with a grain of salt). However, as quick as I was to accept the chance to jump into a a new situation in a new culture with new people I have to criticize myself for not accepting that chance on the home front.

How many of us actually go out of our comfort zones at home? I'm just observing that we spend a lot of time in each other's fellowship which is comforting and rejuvenating. I'm wondering though if we may need to confront the fact that shaking someone's hand after singing once a month is not missionary work. That spending all of our time with friends from church and in our own community does not spread the Good News. That being too self-concious to strike up a conversation does not further Christ's love or break down stereotypes. How can we take that comfort and rejuvenation we find in our own church and community and spread it outward?

Maybe we need to get a teensy-bit more excited about the mission field God has placed us in before we start longing for the mission field overseas.

Just a thought. 

"And he went out from thence, and came into his own country; and his disciples follow him." 

~Mark 6:1

**The earning badges thing is an illustration. A Christ-filled spirit realizes that these "badges" do not earn him or her a place in Heaven. Only through accepting Christ as saviour and his free forgiveness grants us a place in Heaven. The "badges" are things we are propelled to do through our love for Christ.