Looking into the eyes of a killer

Have you ever looked directly in the eyes of a killer? Have you wondered what was going through his mind when he chose to commit his act? Then look at the same person who is only twenty-seven years of age and realize that the perfectly healthy man will be executed. Look at a man who would be considered handsome. A square jaw, well formed and proportioned lips, eyes that are manly yet not ice cold.

Looking this man directly in his eyes and think about the fact for a few minutes he was a living breathing human and then sending him into a gas chamber where cyanide is dropped into acid to form a deadly gas. To breathe this gas must have been painful, but not painful for long. To have the life violently ripped from him. To see if he walks to the gas chamber and does it like a man or if he goes crying like a sissy.

Does he take responsibility for his actions and is will to accept the consequence. You look into this man's eyes and you see that he did. You see that it is a tragic life cut short. You see that he could have been something. You see that he could have lived many years beyond his twenties.

Instead you look at him and find it is hard to get past his handsomeness, past his youth, past all that and realize this man was a dirtbag. Executing him helped society. He was a thief. I hate a thief. He was also a murder. killing someone by shooting an unarmed man.

The only thing I wonder about is if I were able to go back in time and talk to this guy what he would have to say. What he would sound like. Is he as big of a monster that his crimes make him out to be? On October Second in nineteen and Thirty Five he was dead. He breathed his last breath. His soul was torn from his body.

Look for yourself and see if you think that Roland Cochran was ready to die.

The new generation

While working at the jail I was in the report writing room. There were a couple deputies and a reserve deputy. Both deputies are under twenty-six. The reserve is just over twenty-two. Then I started to think about when I was going through the reserve academy for the fire department.

***REWIND***
Back in late ninety-eight I was working full time as a corrections officer at the Whitman County jail. I was also taking classes at WSU part time. I had just graduated a few months prior with a degree in Philosophy/Pre-law. I did not have any of my other jobs.

I wanted to be a fireman my whole life. But I never pursued it. I finally went to the Pullman Fire Department with the encouragement of my friend Kory who also was a dispatcher. I got an application and filled it out. I tested with about twenty-five other people. I did not think I stood a good chance at getting on. I was surprised when I got a letter welcoming me to the fire department.

At the same time a friend of mine named Joe was being accepted to join the Whitman County Sheriff's Reserve training. Our training classes were going on at nearly the same time. So as I was learning to be a fireman he was learning to be a cop. A little way in to the training Joe was hired as a Corrections Officer at the Whitman County Jail. Now he was working with me. One evening while we were working two young men came in saying they were bounty hunters and they have a prisoner to turn in. In all my time at the jail that is only the first time a bounty hunter came to me.

While dealing with the bounty hunter, I found out he two was in the Whitman County Sheriff's Reserve class. Joe said that his name is Gabe. As time went on Gabe and I became friends. Gabe threw small party's mainly consisting of those going through the reserve deputy training. That is where I also met Keith. We all would stay at Gabe's house listening to music and having a good time. Those were some really good times.

A few months later all of us are done with our respective training classes. I was on call with Pullman Fire. A call came out on the Airport Road near the Moscow end. It was my first time driving code and it was a long response. Away we went. When I got on scene I was suspired to see Joe and Gabe. It was the first time we all were on scene together.

It is then that I start to realize that my generation is really coming into the mainstream. We are the cops and the firefighters that are responding to peoples' emergencies. We are the people at the other end of the telephone taking the emergency calls. We are selling people things, we are fixing things, we are starting to open and own businesses. We are getting married and buying houses. This is now the dawn of our chance to make something good of this world. Not in a grand way, but in our own little way. In thirty or forty years when I am no longer working, will anyone remember my name? I don't know. But what matters is that I can look back and smile because I know that I did my best.

But I digress... Those were really good times. That was the honeymoon so to speak. Since that time many things have changed. The innocence has gone so has Joe and Gabe. Keith is no longer a reserve, he actually works full time as a cop. My time with Pullman Fire is less of a learning experience and more of a SSDD. Don't get me wrong, that doesn't mean I don't like it, but if I had a choice I would like to go back to those days in the early two-thousands where we were all together.

***REWIND OVER***

In those years I have been packing on the jobs. Before joining Pullman Fire I worked just two jobs, Student Computing Services and the Whitman County Jail. Plus I went to school part time. Then I did get the Pullman Fire job. Then I got a job working Loss Prevention at the Bon in Moscow. I was working forty hours a week at the Bon and the Jail for a total of eighty hours a week. That did not include the time I was putting in at the fire department and Student Computing Services. One a typical day I would get up at eleven o'clock PM and get ready to work the jail, I would work the jail from midnight to eight o'clock AM. I would drive back to Pullman from Colfax and change out of my uniform to street clothes and drive to the Bon and work there for eight hours, but I would be forced to take an hour long lunch so I was really there for about nine hours. I usually started around nine o'clock. I would get home and I would go right to bed. That was usually around seven o'clock PM. Leaving me with four hours to get sleep. I got rid of the job at the Bon and then as time went on I would add a job here and there. Finally getting me up to seven jobs. That is what I currently work.

All my friends from the late nineties and early two-thousands are gone. I have moved on to hanging out with other people and doing different things. I am sad about those times being gone, but as I look back through my life I see that same trend. Something starts like that. It is the best of times. I never want it to end, and then without me being able to control things, they end. And I move around aimlessly until something else comes up.

I think back on those times with fond memories, usually making me sad for what I am missing out on. I think this is why my priorities are the way they are. They are specifically Softball, Fire, and Friends (Family). I will do softball before all else. I love softball and I have not missed a game in more than three years. When I am not playing softball I am focusing on the fire department. Should there not be something going on, then it is my friends and family. I will miss doing things with my friends in order to play softball. But my friends come before work. If my friends want to go out and stay up late drinking or hanging out. But I have to be at work at seven o'clock AM. My friends will win out. Because I realize that I can always get sleep but at some time those friends and this small era in my life will be gone too. And I do not want to look back and have regrets about not spending enough time with them.

I have those regrets. When I let the job at the jail take over my life. I missed out on a lot of my prime night life from the time I was twenty-one until I was about twenty-four. That was due to working swing shift at the jail, working through the time my friends were doing things. I was invited to and had to turn down many things. I look back and I am sometimes bitter at that choice I made and the jail for making me work when I should have been making a strong relationship with those friends. Now those people are gone leaving me with only sadness and regret.