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Throughout the tumultuous history of our nation, the power of one man’s or one woman’s voice has permeated across the land and inspired others to bring about change to improve the quality of life for the masses. Historians have documented the influence of men like Abraham Lincoln and Dr. Martin Luther King, Jr. and female leaders such as Susan B. Anthony and Rosa Parks who rose to the occasion and shed light on civil inequalities. Thus, resulting in significant improvements in the rights of others. As Americans, we have relished this diverse and rich history with great fervor and commitment to protect our freedoms and take satisfaction in our ability to do so. This segment of notable men and women served as wonderful role models who informed our nation and stood against adversity in the name of us all.

Sometimes, a lone voice rises from an unknown individual who shouts loud enough to be heard. And in recent weeks, the power of one such voice reached a national audience. It was the voice of a single man who chose to aid another human being in need. In hearing the cries of a woman in distress, he rose to the occasion and responded accordingly. When she was powerless to fight for herself, he acted on her behalf. In a precious moment in time, he chose to champion a cause when others may have turned a deaf ear. As a result of his actions, the lives of three women and a little girl were forever changed for the better.

In my former career in law enforcement, I was privileged to witness the actions of the brave men and women who served to protect. And in the heat of battle, I was in awe of their deeds. Yet despite the many incidents that were responded to and resolved, I had an expectation for my fellow officers to fulfill their role in a manner befitting their chosen  profession.

As I contemplate the exceptional behavior displayed by one, I do so in acknowledgment of this amazing man. Over these past few months and years, like many, I have watched as other individuals have risen on a singular occasion to help their neighbors in need. I am reminded that during each instance, it began with the power of one. One man, one woman, one voice ready to protect and defend, for the good of all. In my mind, each of these feats have helped to restore faith in our humanity and hope for a better tomorrow.

The power of one man, of one woman of one voice.

When the memories fade from the mind of a loved one, it is a dismal situation to witness and experience. The initial glimmers of the destructive path to the brain’s once vibrant mechanism bring about a sense of great loss and agony for all involved. The individual who has been affected by the illness feels the weight of this internal turmoil most of all. The emotional pain suffered in knowing that a beloved family member is slipping away is quite distressing. Not only from a psychological perspective, but in the physical and spiritual senses, as well.

When my maternal Grandmother was diagnosed with Alzheimer’s, there really wasn’t much known about the disease. The behavioral patterns were evident, but in that time little research had been conducted to better understand the devastating effects of those stricken, let alone the availability of any medication. Even my grandmother’s physicians tip-toed around the subject, as did most family members. When my grandmother began to behave in an unfamiliar manner, the family would just smile and whisper about her suffering from an ailment known as “old-timers.”

As the disease took hold and her mind became convoluted – as did any thought she voiced – our family watched the disease destroy her body and spirit. Over a period of eight long years, our family observed her transform from a once robust woman into an emaciated and bed-ridden patient who had no memory of anyone including her only daughter, my mom. This metamorphosis caused such suffering for Mom and tore at the very fabric of our family life. In the last years of my grandmother’s life, she had no control over any of her faculties. And when she died, Mom felt as if the years had only left her with sad memories.

In recent months, another beloved member of our family has been afflicted with early stage dementia. Although it is hurtful to watch my aunt begin to decline, it has also brought some joyful moments into our lives. Between the repeated conversations and snippets of the present days come the stories of the past and her youth. Mixed in with those reminiscent moments are tales of her childhood, including accounts of my dad and grandfather. These narratives are ones I’ve never heard before and depict a look into the early life that she shared with two of her favorite men. My grandfather had passed away a few years before I was born, so I never had the privilege of meeting him or spending time in his presence. But in listening to the stories of a time gone by, I feel as if I have caught a glimpse of some tender moments in all of their lives. These fragments of my aunt’s memory have provided a chance to share in the impressions sustained inside her heart. And have warmed the cockles of mine.

As her mind travels down memory lane, she smiles in remembering her best-loved  people, places and things. She recalls the youthful pranks of siblings, days spent in the kitchen preparing holiday meals and the loving manner of a kind and caring father. In those moments of recollection, it appears as if her very being becomes illuminated and the damaging nature of the disorder loses its hold on her mind. In some ways, it has brought a familial gift of sorts. In the intermittent moments of memories captured from the past, a heartfelt sentiment is recalled. And the joy once felt is again displayed and shared by all.

Memories light the corners of my mind...

When I contemplate individuals in my life who have the right to be bitter, my Maternal Aunt is the first person who immediately comes to mind. In the span of her lifetime, she has lost two husbands and her only son. Her first husband passed away when she was nine months pregnant with their fourth child. He succumbed to pneumonia while in the hospital, post gallbladder surgery. In the years that followed, my Aunt struggled to raise her four children without the benefit of their father. She worked at a job, cooked, cleaned, sewed garments and managed all the issues it usually takes two parents to accomplish. After being single for nearly a decade, she remarried and gave birth to her fifth child. And when the youngest of her children was a mere toddler, her second husband passed away from a major stroke.

In the years that followed, the hardships of life once again came knocking at her door and she suffered another heartbreaking event. As a result of an extreme allergic reaction, her only son died from anaphylactic shock. This loss was a traumatic blow to her psyche and one which appeared to traumatize her spirit.

In the days following her sons’ death, I watched as my Aunt struggled with her faith and her will to move forward in life. It was the only time in my memory of her that I can recall observing her strength of resolve compromised. During this period in my life, I was serving as a police officer and had viewed death under many a circumstance. But this loss left not only me, but every family member, feeling unprepared for the sorrow and aftermath that followed. In the subsequent months, I watched my Aunt struggle to reconstruct the pieces of her shattered life and that of her four daughters.

As I viewed her doing so, I felt privileged to witness the strength of her indomitable spirit. Each day, I observed her with her family and friends and I marveled at her ability to retain her kind and caring manner. And at that particular time, it was very hard for me to understand how she was able to preserve a sense of kindness when life had dealt her such a cruel blow.

Once I asked my Aunt a question regarding how she had kept herself from allowing the bitterness to overtake the happiness. And her response provided me some insight into not only her life, but an “aha” moment in mine as well. She responded to my query by saying, “Think of the two emotions as you would the scales of justice. One side of the scale holds the keys to happiness and the other the path to bitterness. Now with this in mind, try to keep the scale tilted in the 51% of a happy life. If you do, you’ll be able to find the joy even when life deals you an unfair misfortune.”

When she finished with her reply, she smiled that familiar grin, patted me ever so gently on the arm and walked away. At that time, I wasn’t astute enough to understand that her smile camouflaged a deep sadness. Yet she wore that grin well and seldom ever frowned.

As the years have passed and both of us have grown much older, I am still in awe of this wonderful woman who found her way past the bitter moments in life and chose a path to a more worthwhile approach toward a heightened state of awareness. Through her enduring examples of resilience and inner strength, I have come to better comprehend the words of wisdom she shared with me more than 25 years ago.

In watching her respond to the traumatic events in her life, I learned the importance of letting go of the bitterness. Because holding on to it not only causes problematic health issues, it also removes the ability to experience the fleeting moments of joy. Throughout these many years I have grown to admire my dear Aunt. Not only as a beloved family member, but as a woman of great fortitude. For in her resilience, I have found a shining example to emulate. And in her smile, lies the constant reminder of the light that is illuminated from within.

Beloved Aunt

First blog for Huffington Post

Changing careers in midlife is not an easy transition for anyone — especially once you’ve hit the over-50 classification and acquired your first AARP card. Prior to the arrival of the big 5-0, it was a subject I gave little thought to or worried about. That is, until my world came crashing down around me and I woke up one morning to find my life had been permanently and irrevocably altered.

These many months and years of economic decline has brought all too many midlifers to a turning point in their lives. Their direction, once set on a straight parallel of travel, was intersected by all too many fast-moving vehicles. Their Global Positioning System (GPS) appeared to go haywire, and many found themselves lost and without an inkling of how to regain their sense of direction.

After spending almost 26 years as a law enforcement professional, I too found myself lost in an area of unfamiliar territory. Despite my every attempt to reroute my life, I was left stranded with no ability to turnaround. In other words, my pink slip had arrived and I was discharged from duty because of my medical inability to perform. My ill health now prevented me from working the job I had loved and one in which seemed to identify my very person. It was a position I cherished and one which allowed me to contribute to humanity by serving in the best interest of my fellow man.

In those first months of trying to determine which direction to travel, I found solace in writing my thoughts and feelings on many a yellow lined, legal-sized tablet, a practice which I had completed for some 40 years time. The notebooks accumulated over time and lined the upper shelves of my bedroom closet. Some were very dusty after many years of neglect and others were on the top of the pile with little wear and tear. So, as I pondered the present situation, I kept hearing the soft whispers of a promising future. A future which encompassed the past practices and many years of penning my innermost reflections.

As I turned inward to decide how to proceed, I recalled the advice I had given many before. When I mentored young people who thought they might be interested in choosing a career in law enforcement, I would inevitably end the discussion by advising them to match their passion with their career. If they followed these few words of advice, in time all would fall into place.

With this same advice in mind, I questioned myself, “What am I passionate about?” The singular word which kept reiterating in the small spaces of my mind was, “writing.” I contemplated the word and decided not to question it. After all, it had been an important aspect of my life for these many years.

In the years which followed the onset of my illness, I wrote incessantly. Initially, as a form of healing to cradle my emotions and frame my behaviors. The writing was therapeutic. Over time, the words merged into pages. Then, the pages formed into chapters. And in time, the chapters transformed into a complete story. Each day, the pages were added one to the other and before too long my story became a book.

The experience of writing was cathartic. For I had related the tale of 9/11 and my involvement while serving in my professional capacity at the Flight 93 crash site. All of the faces, places and details were jotted down and converted into my first book.

On November 11, 2011, I launched my first book and felt elated at the prospect of a new-found career. Now, I find myself standing at the crossroads of a road yet traveled and joyful at the aspect of throwing all caution to the wind and my GPS as well.

“In The Shadow Of A Badge ” reflects my story about an angelic visitation during my initial moments at the Flight 93 crash site located in Shanksville, Pennsylvania. It is a first-hand account of the spiritual experience I encountered while serving in my professional capacity as the Community Outreach Specialist with the Federal Bureau of Investigation, Pittsburgh Division. What I saw and/or heard is a personal interpretation of the events leading up to and following 9/11 and, in particular, the Flight 93 crash. The book also details my on-going journey of personal healing and recovery from Post Traumatic Stress Disorder (PTSD) following my experiences that day, as well as some significant historical facts.

In a year of journeying on this road to publishing and launching my first book, I have been blessed with many gifts. I have come to better understand the beauty which lies within than that of my outside reflection. I have come to realize the importance of speaking the words which lie in my heart. For these terms of endearment, bear the truth of knowledge and understanding.

In a year, I have grown to become a more enlightened human being. I have lived and I have learned. And I believe, I have been granted a second opportunity to make right some of my past misdeeds and erase some of my deepest regrets.

In the book entitled; “365 Thank Yous: The Year a Simple Act of Daily Gratitude Changed My Life,” John Kralik (author) relates his inspiring story of how an old-fashioned act of writing thank you notes led him out of his despair and into the re-awakening of his life. Mr. Kralik tells the tale of how he learned to be grateful for simple acts of kindness and gifts received at the hand of others. He explained how his gratitude turned into joy and soon he found his overly complex life had turned into a wonderful life filled with love, laughter and enlightenment.

In the reading of Mr. Kralik’s book, I too was reminded that the simple things in life are indeed the best. And as I grow older, I sense the need to relish in the simplicity which life offers on a moment to moment basis.

I have also been prompted about the importance of legacy. It now seems I want every year to count even more than the previous one. And in my mind, I find it is important to leave remnants of my existence. Not just in the form of photographic memories, cards and letters, or other tangible items, but a meaningful gift for others to hold dear. Not only for the benefit of recalling, but for that of reflecting as well.

In contemplating this need, I became aware that my books and writings were just that. They were not only gifts of healing for myself and others, they were also a leaving a piece of myself behind. My written words became a compilation of my thoughts, feelings and actions all neatly tied up into the books authored. There inside the pages penned would be my patrimony to share. A look into feelings once held locked inside my heart, my mind and my soul.

So in one year, I have seen a dream come to pass. This dream was accomplished through the collective efforts of a group of creative and caring human beings. It came to life as the result of hard work, dedication and a relentless pursuit to fulfill my hearts desire.

In my story of an angelic encounter on 9/11; “In The Shadow Of A Badge: A Spiritual Memoir”, I feel I have done just that. Along with the remembrance of 40 heroic human beings who rose to the occasion and aided humanity, is the knowledge of a divine occurrence which graced my life and set into motion the direction of my future plans. The story became my driving force to heal and become healthy enough to share and give testimony to the events I had witnessed. The many trials and tribulations of life and of publishing became opportunities to gain an enhanced outlook on life and uncover the depths of my spiritual beliefs.

Book Launch: Carnegie Library of Oakmont

During the book launch, my family and close friends gathered to celebrate a turning point in my life. As I looked around the room at the many faces of those I cared for, I was reminded of the importance of giving love and receiving it in an unconditional manner. And there in each face, I saw the purest meaning of that love.

As I traveled to the numerous book signings, I had the privilege of meeting some amazing individuals and working alongside of them as well. I became acutely aware of how many people believed in God and His angels. Many of whom took the time to chat and share their own stories about angelic encounters which they too had witnessed. When they spoke of these divine interventions, their eyes grew iridescent as they related the chance meeting with their celestial guides and protectors.

Book Signing: Seven Springs Mountain Resort

During a visit to the Flight 93 Memorial, I stood once again on the sacred ground created on 9/11. As I strolled along the pathway, my mind immediately became transfixed on the large stone placed over the resting site of the crashed plane. And I remembered the names of the heroic passengers and crew members now etched into the white marble walls cascading across the grounds. In that moment of recognition, the tears which were held inside for so long began to flow. And as my past meet the present, my heart heaved and the emotions felt seemed to release in a quiet whisper of angelic voices once again heard across that distant field.

Flight 93 Memorial

On a trip to New England, I enjoyed the pleasure of staying at the River Road Farm located in the picturesque Village of Manchester, Vermont. While there, I became acquainted with the owner and the other lovely women who had gathered for a spiritual retreat. In speaking with these women, I became more aware of their ability to instantaneously understand the internal power of their soul. And I was moved, in watching the “aha” moments of those who awoke to their spiritual purpose and were moved by the wonder of it all.

River Road Farm

As the story of my book grew and the media queries began, I had the chance to join in and chat on radio interviews across the air waves. And on occasion when the audience joined in on these chats, I was able to participate and learn from others who spoke of their faith and their beliefs. I was touched by the personal accounts strangers were willing to share.

Paul Guggenheimer @ Essential Public Radio

Then, there were the innumerable cards, e-mails, letters and notes received from far and wide. Each piece of correspondence provided a glimpse into the lives of others.  These wonderful individuals who chose to partake, added credence to my belief that we are all connected one to the other.

So, after spending this past year endeavoring to bring my story to life, I have become better informed as a result of my travels. Foremost, I believe and declare my life is indeed blessed by God. And it has been enriched, by the many who have crossed my path.

In the writing and publishing of my first book, I have once again found my path. A path I walk to achieve my spiritual purpose and accomplish my human dreams. In these 12 months, I have traveled and experienced new wonders of the world. I have gathered among strangers who have become instant friends. I have celebrated among friends and watched them as they expanded their lives as well. I have dwelled in a house of darkness for all too long and finally the light had found its place and cleared the shadows around me. The shadows which had hindered the lumen from flowing to me and through me. In one year, much has come to pass and my once obscured journey has become illuminated in its intent.

In a year, some doors have opened and some doors have closed. Some of those doors were shut in a gentle manner and others were abruptly slammed with no reason. Yet in the closing of each door, came the realization that another would soon open. And that unlatched door, often lead to the next step on my path of discovery and my desire to leave behind the books written to express the impressions of my heart.

One of my favorite Christmas movies is the 1946 classic, It’s A Wonderful Life. The film stars Jimmy Stewart as George Bailey, a man who has given up his dreams in order to help out his family and friends. His attempted suicide on Christmas Eve brings about the divine intervention of his guardian angel, Clarence Odbody. Clarence is an angel second class who has not yet earned his wings. For the angel to do so, he must first save George and help him realize the value of his life.

Film Clip: It's A Wonderful Life

The main storyline of the movie concerns George’s need to believe he has not lead an unaccomplished life, but rather, a life filled with wonder. Aided by Clarence, George retraces some significant events in his life which in turn affected others for the better. While revisiting these past experiences, George becomes aware of all the lives he has touched. He also learns how different life in his community would have been if he had never been born. With each visit to a past memory, George begins to reflect and understand how well he has indeed lived his life. This deep-seeded understanding brings about an amazing transformation from sadness to utter joy.

As I watched the movie again this holiday season, I was prompted to recall all the angels who have played a key role in helping me in my life. Although some of the angels are in fact celestial beings, there are others who are earthly as well. When unexpected events have disrupted the daily stream of life, each of these angelic individuals have rallied to my side. And each, has been selfless in their actions in order to make sure all was well.

When I think about the unfathomable events of 9/11and the most recent incident in Newtown, Connecticut, I am again reminded of the many angels who exist. As it relates to September 11th, there were those brave individuals who rose to the occasion for the sake of us all. At the Flight 93 crash site, the heroic passengers and crew members sacrificed their lives to protect their fellow man. They will be forever memorialized for their courageous deeds. During the heinous acts of terrorism which eventually caused the mighty Twin Towers to fall, there were many who served and risked their own lives. Each of the firefighters, police officers, emergency responders and countless civilians who assisted the many survivors to safety were indeed angelic guides. Although our entire nation grieved at the insurmountable loss of life, it is estimated that 14,000 to 16,000 individuals were rescued that fateful day. Those saved have told tale upon tale of the brave rescuers who risked life and limb to aid them. And after aiding others, some of those courageous souls perished while serving the greater good of mankind.

In recent days, the tragedy of Sandy Hook Elementary School also provides evidence of human angels at work. The school’s principal and a teacher are credited in saving many lives. They were said to have served as human shields and protected the innocent children and fellow staff members who were unable to safeguard themselves. By doing so, I believe these indomitable individuals earned their angelic wings.

When I contemplate the violence, trauma and aftermath brought on by such events, it is my belief we not only have God’s winged messengers walking among us, but also earthly angels who rise to the occasion and commit spontaneous acts of heroism. In my mind, these individuals create everyday miracles in everyday people’s lives. By serving on behalf of others, they indeed reflect an image of an angelic being who represents the likeness of God. Through their very acts, they become a physical representation of the higher power.

In one of the final scenes of It’s A Wonderful Life, a bell is heard ringing. As the tiny chime resounds, George Bailey’s daughter Zuzu states, “Teacher says every time a bell rings an angel gets its wings.”

So, if these words indeed bear any truth, there are many bells ringing this Christmas Day for all the angels being presented with a new set of wings.

Artwork: Christmas Chimes / Artist: Blashfield

I am deeply honored to learn that my book, “In The Shadow Of A Badge”, was nominated for a prestigious 2012 Military Writers Society of America award in the Non-Fiction Spiritual/Religious category.   To learn more about MWSA and this year’s award ceremony, please click here.