Are You a #1stresponder Influence Leader???

By Safe Call Now®'s Steve Gutzler

Leadership is about the power of your daily influence. It is also about the power of reproducing other influencers. 

I had the privilege of witnessing that first hand last weekend at the memorial service of my wife's father, Chuck Rall. Chuck was truly a great man of consistency, character, faith, work-ethic, and loving service to others. I had the honor of saying a few words at his memorial service which was an honor I will cherish. 

What struck me most was listening to four of his ten grandchildren share the power of his influence. The described being inspired to live and lead like Papa Chuck did. You could feel the impact of his life and sense the desire of others to follow in his footsteps. 

I've been told emergency room nurses at hospitals have a saying: "Watch one, do one, teach one." It refers to the need to learn a technique quickly, jump right in and do it with a patient, and then turn around and pass it on to another nurse. 

The first responder mentoring process for developing influencers works in a similar way. It happens when you take potential influencers (leaders) under your wing, speak into their life, empower them and share with them the power of their influence. Then release and let them go to raise up other leaders. Every time you do that you multiply your influence. Every time you do that you plant seeds for greater success. 

Meet Retired ATF Agent Jay Dobyns... My Dear Friend

Jay Dobyns - Retired ATF Agent

I want to introduce to you my dear friend Jay Dobyns, retired ATF Agent.  I’m fortunate enough to get to see him this week and always enjoy speaking at conferences with him.  His story is remarkable and he’s lucky to still be on this earth.  Today he is dedicated to serving others and is one of Safe Call Now®’s biggest supporters.

Jay Dobyns was a federal undercover agent and a New York Times Best-Selling author. He achieved worldwide notoriety as one of history's most daring undercover operators during high-octane covert operations targeting the world’s most brutally violent criminals and organizations.

For over twenty five years, Jay successfully infiltrated and brought down scores of the deadliest criminals and illegal enterprises in existence. He operated amongst vicious street and prison gangs, gun running groups, drug trafficking organizations, bomb makers and home invasion crews. He routinely played the role of a shrewdly-calculating professional hit man during federal "murder-for-hire" investigations.

Jay is perhaps best known for his landmark infiltration of the notorious Hells Angels biker gang. He was the first-ever law enforcement officer to successfully defeat the gang’s multilayered security measures and become a full patched member (of the legendary Skull Valley charter), a fact that club’s leadership vociferously denies to this day.

Fear in Policing...

By Randy Sutton - The Power of Legacy

I’m a cop with a confession to make. It’s not easy to do; it’s something that I’m hesitant, even ashamed, to admit. But I don’t think I’m alone in my admission; I believe that I share this secret with countless men and women who also wear a badge on their chest. It’s a confession of fear.

Fear? Yes, a demoralizing fear that threatens to cripple my effectiveness as a cop. But not the kind of fear you might expect.

I have worn a badge for more than 25 years. I’ve walked the streets in uniform, patrolled the city in a black & white during every kind of political and social climate imaginable. I’ve done the equivalent of combat duty during citywide unrest, during urban riots when we, the police, were grossly outnumbered and under-equipped and were called “pigs” by the very people we sought to protect from harm. In those days, as a young rookie, I admit that I was afraid. But I was a cop so I learned, like we all did, to stand my ground and to stand tall because, no matter what, that uniform that I was wearing stood for Justice and Integrity. I never lost sight of that; it was the antidote to fear. I learned that the flood of adrenaline could be used for more than fight or flight – it could be used to take charge. And I learned, I’m proud to say, to temper all that I did with compassion. So that kind of fear, fear of being outnumbered and disdained, faded with the acceptance of the role and responsibility of a police officer. No, this is not the fear that I mean.

Then is it mortal danger I’m afraid of? The ever-present specter of death or serious injury? I, like most cops with a lot of years in, have accepted the physical danger inherent in the street cop territory – the shots-fired, man-with-a-gun, domestic-gone-haywire calls – any of those escalating situations that can suddenly explode in violence, threatening my life and the lives of those around me. No, that kind of fear no longer leaves an acrid taste in my mouth; experience and training has honed my fear into something more like concentrated energy. That is the kind of fear that I can live with and even embrace. 

No, I’m afraid of my police administration. I’m afraid that there’s no one up there to back me up. I’m afraid of being hung out to dry. I’m afraid of being the goat tied to the tree when the lions come to feed.
No, nothing has happened to me personally. Not yet. But I’ve watched it happen and so has every cop in the country. There is a public perception that we are expendable. That if we make a mistake – and I mean an accidental misstep, a stumble, if you will, while acting with good and honorable intentions, and not the gross misuse of power or abuse of authority that make the headlines – we can lose everything.