Oscar Smith is a member of the NYPD Scuba Team. He sat down with Reunion’s Peter Hermann, to talk about his work and the toll it takes.

Peter Hermann: How did you get into police work?

Oscar Smith: I was lifeguarding and coaching while studying to be a teacher. A cop I was lifeguarding with said, "You obviously like to help people. You should try police work." That was twelve years ago.

PH: Why do you like to help people? OS: It goes back to when I was a kid. This kid named Bruce used to pick on me a lot. This other kid named John stepped in and told him to leave me alone. And Bruce said, "What's it to you?" And John says, "I'm just tired of you picking on him. He didn't do anything to you." That's what I like about law enforcement, helping people who don't have anyone to help them. It's that little umph inside of you that says, you know what? I'm going to stand up for this person.

PH: Do you consider yourself a healer?

OS: Yes.

PH: Why?

OS: My old law professor, Professor Zuckerman, once said to me, "The business of the law is not to get something for someone who has lost something. It's to make them whole again." So whether you're a victim of a crime, or a broken heart, or you lost someone who's precious to you, you're trying to be whole again. And that's part of being a healer, helping them to do that.

PH: Can you describe a time when you felt like you really made a difference in someone's life?

OS: There was this huge army general who died in his sleep. He was dead for three days, and his wife still made him breakfast, lunch and dinner. She thought he was sleeping, or maybe it was just the power of denial. When she finally called the police, I responded and had to tell her what happened. She just said, "What do I do now?" Somebody who's been in your life for forty, fifty years is gone now. So I went back once a week to have tea with her. She said "Thank you for spending the time with me." It was the best feeling in the world. She invited me to his funeral at Arlington National Cemetery. Full military honors. Nobody knew he was a general. And shortly after that, she died too.

PH: Have you ever had times when you thought that you just weren't making a difference at all?

OS: When I did narcotics. That's the worst feeling in the world. You arrest people and they're out within two, three years. Even for murder. They get probation, and they're back on the streets doing the same thing they were doing before.

There was this guy named Big Boss, a dealer in Chelsea. I locked him up two or three times in a month, and next thing I know, this is around Christmas, I see him out on the street. He said, "I don't have to go back until after the holidays. I can show up for jail on January 10th." And he just laughed at me and said, "You know I'm not going, right?" And I said, "Yeah, I know."

Another thing that bothers me is that people know the difference between right and wrong, and some just choose that wrong option all the time. No matter what. They know they're going to cause someone harm or pain in their life, and they just don't care.

PH: How do you deal with that frustration?

OS: You just sort of grin and bear it. There's not much you can do. You can't change the system. That's unfortunately why a lot of people get burned out. There are the firemen dealing with arsonists. Or doctors dealing with alcohol or drug patients. Or psychiatrists dealing with people who want to kill themselves and eventually do. It's about not taking all that guilt on yourself. It's about saying, "Hey, I tried. I gave my best to guide this person in the right direction." Unfortunately, you can't control their outcome.

PH: Why aren't you burned out?

OS: I just like to keep an open mind. You keep things open. You can't let everything consume you. I know I can't change the whole world, but if I can change one thing-it's the same thing when I was a teacher, if I can teach that one kid, that one nerdy, geeky kid who feels like he doesn't belong in a class full of jocks, if I get him to just try to shoot a basket, or try and kick the ball, that means a lot.

PH: What do you do to take care of your mental health, your physical health, your spiritual health?

OS: The mental health part is actually just talking. Talking to my clients that I train at my gym, to my wife, other guys in law enforcement. That's one thing about cops, they'll go into a bar and sit and drink and just relate stories, and next thing you know, it's four or five hours later. Unfortunately, that's one thing that they do constantly, instead of going home and sharing it with their wives or with someone close.

PH: Can you go up to another cop that you know well and say, "I'm having a hard time. I'm dying here"?

OS: That's a sign of weakness. Cops all have that honor thing. Like a bunch of Spartans running around. They have organizations where you can talk, like group therapy, one-on-one therapy. But then guys aren't going to see you as the pillar you're supposed to be. "The one who's going to cry is also going to die." It's more accepted in the police department to be violent, have a serious drug problem or be an alcoholic. All of that is considered a way of blowing off steam.

PH: Does anyone use those organizations that offer individual or group therapy?

OS: Not really. They have to make their records public to the police department. If the department thinks you have a problem, they'll take your gun away because they're afraid you'll snap or kill yourself.

PH: Have you ever gone?

OS: No.

PH: How do you think things should be? What's your ideal scenario to avoid burnout in the police department?

OS: The ideal thing would be a group where you can talk inside each precinct. It would be with the people you work with, and you'd get together to talk and share things. And ideally, your commanding officers would be twenty-year veterans. So they've seen it all, and they can say to you, "I know exactly what you're going through. You did your best. The guy jumped off the building. You tried to talk him down. It didn't work." Or "I'm sorry that little woman got knocked down and got her purse stolen and broke her hip." You were seconds away. You can't be everywhere."

Just to let you know you're still doing a good job out there. Not many cops get praise for their work. That would make them not feel so guilty. Because that's the whole thing, it's the guilt. I remember working in the 7th Precinct for a day, down by the Williamsburg Bridge. My partner and I go down there, and they hand us a map. This call came in that a kid had gotten into a building and knocked this little Chinese lady down in a hallway and took her purse. And we were right around the corner, but because I didn't know the area, we ended up three blocks away. I could have caught that kid. It just stays with you.

PH: What stands in the way of somebody suggesting something like that at a precinct, putting that kind of group in place?

OS: Because you're going to be basically made out to be a jerk. Some self-help guru. You're basically going to get booed off the stage.

PH: Even though nine out of ten people in the precinct probably think it's a pretty good idea.

OS: Exactly.

PH: Do you have some kind of routine during the day to take care of yourself, to take care of your mind and body?

OS: I get up early and go for a run and swim. I'll jump in and swim around Governor's Island. I make my peace with God while I'm out swimming. Now that I'm in the scuba unit, the guys always make fun of me on the flight deck or the helicopter pad. I get up every morning to watch the sun rise. And I say the Lord's Prayer in the morning and at night. The guys will say, "There he is, saying his prayers again."

That's my way of being back in touch with my inner self, my spirit. I also do that by being part of nature. I've actually gotten some of the other guys into swimming with me.

PH: Were in you involved with the helicopter crash in the Hudson?

OS: I was on the beach the day that happened. I was lying there with my wife, and I got a phone call from my base, saying there was a helicopter that crashed with a plane. My partner and I were working on recovering the debris, and we found a cell phone, and the pilot's wallet. It's sad, because here's someone's life, and you're looking through their wallet. He had his driver's license, aviation card, credit card, things like that. Their personal property is in your hands, and you just think, "There's history behind this."

PH: Are you ever able to turn off? Are you ever able to just shut it all down?

OS: No, because it's real. It's gets your adrenaline going. When I get the call about something that's happened and I'm getting briefed, or I'm on the helipad, or on the deck of the boat, I get that nice adrenaline rush because I want to go out there and really make a difference. I want to help someone.

PH: What are you most proud of in your work?

OS: The people I help. Knowing I left an impression on them. Like when people sit down and they tell a story about a bad cop, someone will say, "You know, I met this one cop, and he was fantastic." And that one good story will hopefully pass on to other people.