ken gigliotti \ winnipeg free
press archives Peter O�Kane
(left) fights Francis Doiron in
a 2002 bout.
Peter
O'Kane was a rare and unique human being.
I first
heard of Pete when he joined the police force almost 20 years ago. An
escalating
labour dispute, some mouthpiece shooting off his gate and a little
overhand right. It
was the perfect start to launch Pete's career in law
enforcement.
If I
had to pick one phrase to describe the Peter O'Kane that I knew, it would be
"old
school." Pete
was built for the job. He had
the hard-nosed belief that the streets of
Winnipegbelonged to him and not the criminal scumbags that preyed on our vulnerable
citizens.Pete
was the quintessential "sheepdog" protecting the sheep from the wolf.
Most
cops will know what I'm talking about.
The
mindset of a hard-nosed street cop is perfectly expressed by Lt.-Col. Dave
Grossman, U.S. army (retired), an internationally recognized scholar, author,
soldier,
speaker and expert on human aggression and the roots of violence and
violent crime.
"If
you have no capacity for violence then you are a healthy productive citizen: a
sheep.
If you have a capacity for violence and no empathy for your fellow
citizens, then you
have defined an aggressive sociopath -- a wolf. But what if
you have a capacity for
violence, and a deep love for your fellow citizens?
Then you are a sheepdog, a warrior,
someone who is walking the hero's path.
Someone who can walk into the heart of
darkness, into the universal human
phobia, and walk out unscathed."
If
you've never heard it before, you should follow the link. It will help you
understand
the essence of Peter O'Kane: www.killology.com/sheep_dog.htm
In
2005, I was promoted to the rank of sergeant and transferred to general patrol
in
Division 11, downtown Winnipeg, to run the A3 Platoon.
When I
took the job, my first priority was to "team build."
It was
during this time that Pete approached me looking for a spot on my shift. My
initial reaction could best be described as uncertain. I didn't know Pete very
well at
this point and I had concerns about this "cowboy" who always
seemed to be in or
around "the s ." After
doing a little research and receiving overwhelming
endorsements, the choice
became clear. Pete was a "gem" they told me and I'd be nuts if I
didn't take him.
So I
drafted him and never regretted it.
Pete's
work ethic, commitment and dedication to the job was second to none. A guy
who
was always at work a minimum of half an hour before the shift started. There he
was, doing his thing, getting organized, doing computer checks and talking s to
the
officers on the other shifts.
It
always amazed me how Pete would call me and tell me he was running late only to
show up 20 minutes before shift start. To Pete, that was late. I used to tell
him that he
didn't have to call me when he was going to be in late, not when
his late was still early,
but the message never got through, he always called
anyway. He was stubborn that
way.Pete
brought a lot to the table. He was a dream cop for a supervisor. I used to love
how he would bust the balls of the young cops who would stroll into the shift
briefings
late or just seconds before the scheduled start time.
It was
a thing of beauty.
Up one
side and down the other, poor defenseless rookies getting their asses kicked
by
Pete for their lack of commitment to the job. The supervisors sitting mute, no
need
to address the issues, not when Pete O'Kane was in the house.
No one
could tell a story quite like Pete. He regaled us at every shift briefing with
his
unique sense of humour injected into every tale.
I had a
great bond with Pete.
My
heroes growing up were Muhammad Ali, George Foreman and Sugar Ray
Leonard.I was a
huge boxing fan, as was my father and brothers. We loved to train,
spar and
knock each other senseless. It was a natural connection for us.
I
remember when Pete came into my office and got on the computer to show me a
YouTube video of one of his fights on ESPN. After a couple of minutes, I
diagnosed
Pete as a typical Irish fighter. Tough as nails, iron chin and an
inbred desire to trade
with his opponents, even if it meant taking two or three
shots to every one he gave.
After I
watched the fight I said, "Nice defence, Peter." His reply:
"Defence is overrated."
The
fight game would take its toll on Pete, who found himself on the receiving end
of
an "intervention" orchestrated by several of his closest friends
who grew concerned
about the obvious damage that Pete was taking from the sport
he so loved.
Pete's
speech was becoming impaired and it was disconcerting to everyone.
It
wouldn't be easy for Pete to hang 'em up, but he got the message.
I give
those guys credit -- they probably saved his life.
Like
the true champ he was, Pete took the speech impairment thing in stride. Never
shy of dishing it out, Pete could take it, too. Cops are relentless trash
talkers and Pete
was one of the best.
Pete's
speech impairment was often interpreted by citizens as alcohol impairment, a
situation that provided great material for the guys who loved to mess with him.
It was
always funny up to the point when Pete would threaten to make the trash-
talkers
piss blood. Once it went there, everybody just walked away. No one really
wanted to be the first to find out if Pete meant it.
In
2008, I hired Pete to build a deck on the front of my residence.It was
during this
time that I would see that Pete's work ethic and dedication to excellence was not
just limited to his police career. He
showed up every day, early as expected, worked
his ass off and refused to take
breaks. My wife had to literally force him to stop his
work and take five
minutes to eat a sandwich.His
work, creativity and attention to detail
was impeccable.In fact,
it was so good, the final product won a "best deck" contest
prize
that netted us a $500 free shopping spree at Bird Lumber.
It
wasn't all smooth sailing. Every
day Pete would bring one of the loves of his life to
the job site.Don't
get me wrong, I love dogs and everything, but every day after Pete
would leave
the job, I would look around the yard and find gigantic holes dug in my
lawn
along with enormous piles of dog s . Much like his owner, this was no normal
dog,
normal dogs don't drop logs the size of landscape ties on people's lawns.The
next day
I would confront Pete and tell him to put some mitts and a diaper on
his mutt but he
would just give me that sheepish grin and fire off some
smartass remark that would
make us both break up in laughter.
The
last time I saw Pete was at my retirement party this year.It was
great to see him
and I was honoured to see his face in the crowd.I was
especially honoured to share
a couple of drinks with him at the after party in
our hotel room.That
honour turned to
horror as I would later see him snuggled up to one of my
beautiful daughters on the
couch engaged in an intimate conversation. In
typical O'Kane style, he just smirked
and said, "What are you going to
do?"
Peter
O'Kane wasn't a perfect human being, but he was a great warrior, blessed with
steely courage and dogged determination, a great leader who inspired everyone
around him.Pete
had a great sense of humour and shared that gift with all of us.
As
tough as he was, it wasn't hard to see that he had a soft side filled with love
and
adoration for his family, friends and those he cared about.
Above
all else, Peter O'Kane was a good soldier.
We all
mourn his loss.
Rest in
peace, brother.
The
thin blue line just got thinner.
Follow
this blog at jgjewell.wordpress.com
Republished from the Winnipeg Free Press print edition November
25, 2012 A8
