In March 2004, the Manistique Public Safety Department went through a huge upheaval due to financial difficulties experienced by the city of Manistique. One officer got laid off, the director was forced to retire, and our fulltime dispatcher/ clerk was cut back to four hours a day. This meant that our fulltime department of ten personnel lost twenty-five percent of its workforce. Although my position was still that of sergeant, my title was now the Acting Director of Manistique Public Safety.
One of our desires, as a department, was to change our uniforms. The current uniforms were outdated: light-blue shirts with French-blue pants. We never wore ties, except for court appearances—the uniform looked sloppy. After polling the officers, we unanimously voted to change to a dark-blue uniform—LAPD style. The officers even agreed to purchase the uniforms with their own money.
The new uniforms arrived in time for the annual July Fourth parade and festivities in Manistique. As the commanding officer of our department, it was my duty to lead the parade.
After dressing in the new uniform that morning, I looked in the mirror and was impressed with the way I looked. I then remembered a dream my mother had told me about as tears welled up in my eyes . . .
My mother died in 1995. Throughout my childhood, my sister, father, and I were continually astounded by my mother’s dreams, as many of them often came true.
In 1976, I graduated from college with a bachelor’s degree in criminal justice. After working for several small departments, I joined the Manistique Public Safety Department in 1978 because it was a chance to move back to my hometown. Although I accepted the position, I did not want to stay in Manistique forever and was continually applying to larger departments, including the Michigan State Police. In fact, there were many times I longed to quit my position in Manistique. I always hoped that a dream job would open up—and I was given many other opportunities—the trouble was I could not make up my mind as to where to go.
In 1985, I was accepted by the Michigan State Police and started to make preparations to quit Manistique and enter the State Police Academy. I was not thoroughly convinced that this was a good move, however, and was torn about what to do (I also had another job offer pending with a sheriff’s department). My job situation was causing me a lot of personal turmoil. To make matters more confusing, my boss advised me that if I stayed in Manistique, they were going to give me a detective’s position within the department, and this was something I really wanted.
At the peak of my frustration, I stopped to see my mother for coffee. I had always been close to her and often used her as a sounding board and source of advice. Therefore, she was aware of my current dilemma. She told me that she had a dream about my job problem that she wanted to tell me about.
In her dream she saw me standing at attention with a group of officers. She said something was going on; there was a big “doing,” like a parade or something. I immediately asked Mom where this was happening. She replied that it was in Manistique, though she did not know where. I then asked her what color uniform I was wearing. She replied, “Dark blue.”
I was relieved because I thought it meant I would become a member of the Michigan State Police and be stationed in Manistique in the future. I said, “I’m with the State Police, right?”
“No, not the State Police,” Mom said. “I know their uniforms and it is not theirs.” My mother knew all of the uniforms well because my father ran a wrecker service, and Mom was his secretary. City police, state police, and sheriff officers visited their repair shop frequently. I pressed her for more details.
She stated again that the event was in town and we all looked very proud standing at attention. She also said I was the leader of the men and that our uniforms were dark blue, including the shirts, pants, and ties.
I just shook my head. I was absolutely certain Mom was wrong on this one—there was no way this dream could become true. Manistique Public Safety wore light-blue uniforms, and she had said I was not with the State Police. I told Mom she was wrong this time.
She looked at me, smiled, and shook her bony finger at me. “You’ll see. This was a very strong dream. It will come true,” she predicted.
As I stood in front of the mirror that morning, I realized the validity of Mom’s dream so many years ago.