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.

Rules and Obedience: Part 3 (The Best Part)

Here we are again on my weird little investigation into obedience. I’ve written about obedience in the form of coercion for the immature and obedience in the form of rewards for the logically mature. I believe there is one more driving force behind obedience. This force is only for the mature folk. Often they need to be so mature that they can stuff their pride and self away long enough to be obedient when it doesn’t suit them at all. This force is only one word and it is arguably the most important substance in all of our lives.

LOVE.

Pure and simple; or terribly complicated. It depends who you talk to I suppose. In any case it can be a strong force when it comes to obedience. I’m not sure everyone will be able to relate to this - if you can, great, that might mean I’m not completely weird. If you can’t, oh well, you get to read a different perspective on things. Anyhoo, it seems to me that when you know someone loves you and when you love them in return, you want to be obedient. 

Now when I say “love” in this context, I mean “love” in the pure and simple form. Not intimacy, not lust, not necessarily spouses or significant others. I mean everyone that you care about and those who care about you. Friends, family and God. 

I’m an adult. I have my own house, my own car, my own everything. I have flown the nest. I’m not really responsible for anyone but myself and Jack. If my dad asks me to do something for him I do not have to. After all, he can no longer coerce me into obedience as if I were a child. There are not necessarily any logical perks to obeying him any longer now that I don’t reside under his household. So why would I ever do what he has asked? There’s a chance that what he has asked me to do is going to be a major inconvenience, or its going to cost me money, or I’m going to have to change my plans, or it’s something I just loathe doing. Why would I ever do it? Once again the answer is simple.

LOVE. I will do it because I love him. 

I’m staying at a hotel in downtown Edmonton with two of my very good friends. I think it would be easier if I just walk to my destination downtown, even though it’s dark out. I don’t give it much thought. Once again, I’m an adult and I’ve gotten used to having to look after myself. I’ve taken for granted the amount of time I’ve spent in my small towns and have forgotten the dangers of being a small girl in a sketchy part of the big city. My friend tells me no. He asks me not to because he doesn’t think it is safe. From the moment he said that it was settled for me. I’m not going. Why?

LOVE. I was able to easily set pride and preference aside and obey him because he cared about me.

I’m going to go ahead and fit this all into one post, so please forgive the length. I was prompted to write these obedience posts after fielding a few questions about my faith. It probably seems that Christians have a lot of rules or strange ideas - especially in this modern age. It’s even more confusing when they see people professing the term “Christian” while seemingly not practicing what that entails. I get this. I cannot speak for others and I sure want to do my best not judge them. Therefore I can only speak for myself. I am not a very good Christian yet. I mess up a lot. However, I continue to try to improve and live what I believe. A lot of this comes down to obedience - often times the hardest part! As I gain maturity in my faith I am finding that the best way to obedience is through love. So below you will find the best explanation of why myself and many others  are trying to be obedient to the teachings of Jesus. It might be the corniest thing you’ve read all week but then the best love stories are always on the corny side. 

There’s this really amazing guy I’ve come to know. He treats me like a princess. He’s always encouraging me and telling me that I’m beautiful and that he can’t wait to do a lot of great things with me. He is always there every time I call him and he listens to me, even when I’m being a silly, emotional, non-sensical girl. He comforts me, celebrates with me and he makes me want to be a better person. He’s kind of like a super hero because he’s always healing and saving people. He even gave his life to save me. I never want to leave him. He has promised He will never leave me. Not ever! The thing is, He has told me that if I trust him enough to live my life the way He asks, He will make me the happiest girl in the world. Sounds crazy eh? Some of the things He has asked me to do are harder than others, but they all seem to make sense. I told Him that I’m afraid I will fail and He said that he already knows that I will sometimes but other times my obedience will bring him so much happiness! He also says that if I want his forgiveness He will gladly give it to me anytime, any place. So you might wonder why I am doing what he asks of me. I might not always fit in with the rest of the world while I’m doing what He has asked of me. You might want to whisper about me or tell me that I’m crazy. That’s okay. You might have questions about our relationship and I’m more than happy to answer them as best I can. But if your question is why I’m trying to obey this incredible guy, then the answer is easy.

LOVE. Pure and simple.

Because That's What You Do

When I was a baby girl my dad would lift me up on the hour so that I could see the cuckoo bird pop out of the cuckoo clock. I felt like I was hundreds of feet in the air when he would let me ride on his shoulders. When I was tired he would pick me up and carry me to bed. I was amazed at his strength when he would fly me around the house like an airplane or hold me upside down by the ankles. And even when he was in the middle of a conversation, if I reached out with stretched arms and said “Daddy, up?” he would hear me and pick me up without missing a beat because that’s what you do when you love your baby girl.

When I was a little girl my dad would sometimes drop me off at school in his police car -even though we lived right across the street, just because he knew it made me feel special. He told me I was smart, not just beautiful - but smart, and he told me often. He pushed me on the swings, took me to fly kites and blew bubbles with me. He sang to me and told me fairytales. He knelt beside my bed and prayed with me. I would stand on top of his feet and he would dance with me and tell me that we would dance like this on my wedding day. And he held my hand, because that’s what you do when you love your little girl. 

When I was a teenage girl my dad would read everything I wrote and edit it for me and then he would read it again, even if I was cramming an eight page essay at midnight. He came to listen to me sing, or play or practice or speak and always told me that he was proud of me. He told me I was beautiful, not just smart - but beautiful when I felt like the ugliest girl at school. And he held me while I cried over the injustices of youth, because that’s what you do when you love your teenage girl.

When I was a young woman, just starting out, my dad would take my car when I wasn’t watching and put gas in it, just because. He would discuss politics, philosophy, religion and current events into the wee hours of the morning with me, often playing devil’s advocate because he knew it challenged me and made me think. He showered my mother with an abundance of love, respect and admiration, demonstrating to me how a man should treat his wife. He encouraged me to take risks, try new things and to see the world. And he offered me his arm to take when walking, because that’s what you do when you love and honour the young lady that is your daughter. 

When I, as a woman, am busy with the day-to-day things of life, my dad calls me to talk, just because. He listens to my failures and successes and tells me that “everything will work out, it always does.” He loves my dog as much as I do and he makes me wheat-free cupcakes as a surprise. He tells me I’m smart and beautiful. He tries to impart the wisdom of financial planning and he comes by my house to fix, build or plant things -often before I even know it needs to be done. He blows bubbles with me as the sun goes down and we talk about the deeper things like faith, love and the meaning of life. And, whenever we part ways, whether on the phone or in person, our last words are always “I love you” because that’s what you do when you love your grown daughter.

When I am. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .because that’s what you do when you love your daughter.

For every one that asketh receiveth; and he that seeketh findeth; and to him that knocketh it shall be opened. Of what man is there of you, whom if his son ask for bread, will he give him a stone? Or if he ask a fish, will he give him a serpent? If ye then, being evil, know how to give good gifts unto your children, how much more shall your Father which is in heaven give good things to them that ask him?  -Matthew 7:8-11