In the News
The Los Angeles Times
- THE STATE
Haven From the Horrors
A retreat in rural Inverness helps public safety workers deal
with the Post-traumatic stress that sometimes come with the job.
By Donna Horowitz -
Special to The Times
September 14, 2003
Police Officer Wes Fowler had a premonition of tragedy when
he took a report of a missing mother and child in Novato, Calif.
Sadly, he was right. The young mother who vanished that morning
last year had suffocated her 3-year-old daughter in a Mill Valley hotel.
"That was my defining moment and I broke down crying," he
recalled. "I started having flashbacks of all the dead babies over
the 23 years, and I couldn't deal with it anymore" after more than
two decades of police work.
Fowler found help at the West Coast Post-trauma Retreatsm,
a one-week residential program in rural Inverness where public safety workers
are given therapy to cope with the Post-traumatic stress of their jobs.
"The therapy sessions were extremely emotional," said
Fowler, 48, who is on leave without pay. "It's like they rip you open
and scrub you out with a steel-wool brush."
Modeled after a similar program on the East Coast, the Post-trauma
Retreat has counseled about 50 public safety workers from throughout the
country and as far away as England since opening in May 2001.
The retreat is held quarterly, with no more than seven participants
in each session. The days begin at 8:30 a.m. and can last until 10 or 11
p.m. Participants include police officers who have been involved in shootings
or witnessed the deaths of partners, firefighters who have survived collapsing
buildings and even a diver whose job it was to retrieve bodies.
They arrive suffering nightmares, insomnia, panic attacks
and suicidal thoughts. "The goal is to reduce the symptoms and improve
their quality of life," said Joel Fay, mental health liaison officer
for the San Rafael Police Department and board president of the group.
During the program, emergency workers take psychological
tests, meet with mental health professionals, discuss the traumatic events
that triggered their breakdowns and learn why they reacted as they did.
They spend hours in group and individual meetings with psychologists.
They discuss the incidents that drove them into crisis. They examine personal
relationships. They talk about how medication can help, as well as about
substance abuse. In the end, the goal is to come away with a plan for the
future so they can avoid relapsing, Fay said.
So far, the group has set aside $10,000 for a building fund,
but with the high cost of property in
Marin and Sonoma counties, the retreat's goal of having a
facility of its own is far off, Fay said. The nonprofit group is generally
breaking even, charging participants $2,250 to attend a session. The psychologists,
psychiatrist, chaplains and peer counselors are all volunteers who receive
only expenses.
Fay, a psychologist, said the most popular part of the program
is the support offered by peer counselors — police officers working
with police officers and firefighters working with firefighters.
"It's about understanding what the officers or responders
have gone through and explaining it to them in a way that makes sense in
the culture," Fay said.
Christopher Rivera, a sheriff's deputy in Lake County for
18 years, credits the retreat with saving his life. "I was at the
point of blowing my brains out," he said.
Rivera, 47, of Kelseyville said the case that sent him off
the deep end was the slayings of a retired couple who were stabbed to death
by their son, an ex-Beverly Hills police officer who was convicted and
sentenced to life in prison.
After learning about the retreat on the Internet, Rivera
attended one session and kept in touch with the organization through follow-up
care.
Kathy Hoffman, an investigator for the Marin County district
attorney's office for 10 years and a Novato police officer for nine years
before that, said she had been reluctant to go to the retreat. "I
was incredibly embarrassed," she said.
And though she had been told she was not the only one suffering
Post-traumatic stress after years in law enforcement, it didn't sink in
until she heard others in her group speak out.
Speaking about her feelings in that setting was such a powerful
experience that she suffered a panic attack, ran from the meeting room
and became sick to her stomach, she recalled.
"I not only flushed my mind and body, it was incredibly
healing," Hoffman said.
The incident that caused her distress was the suicide of
a suspected child molester who jumped off the Golden Gate Bridge. What
got to her as she reviewed the videotape of his last moments was the anguish
on his face as he hesitated before hurling himself off.
Now Hoffman wants to join the group of 30 volunteer peer
counselors who work with the program.
"If those people hadn't been there for me, I honestly
don't know what would have happened. I don't think I would be here to
talk about it," she said.
