# Death Notification - Bearers Of Bad News:



## kwflatbed (Dec 29, 2004)

*Worst part of a police officer's job also called the most important*

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*Sgt. Zachary Potrykus of Kingston has delivered about a dozen death notifications. Telling someone a family *
*member has died never gets easier, says Potrykus. (AMELIA KUNHARDT/The Patriot Ledger)*

_By KAREN GOULART_
_The Patriot Ledger_

It's not a day he wants to remember, but more than a decade later, it's impossible to forget. Most of Kingston was just waking up to the blue skies and sunshine of a spring Sunday morning.

Rookie Kingston police officer Zachary Potrykus was looking forward to the end of his overnight shift when he got a call to return to the station.

A young man from Kingston was killed in an accident, his supervisor told him, and his parents had to be notified.

With no prior experience, Potrykus was curtly told to go deliver the message. Alone.

On the solitary drive, he tried to steel himself, running through the things he should do and say.

It appeared no one was home when he pulled up to the house. He had a strange sense of relief and guilt until he realized he wasn't the only one who had just arrived.

He stepped out of the patrol car to meet a family member, who had just returned home.

''I have some news,'' he said. ''Can I talk to you inside?''

There are 40,000 mothers, fathers, daughters and sons killed in traffic accidents in this country each year. About 3,000 people drown. Another 37,000 are murdered or commit suicide. In every case, someone has to knock on the door and break the news to family.

Often, that person is a police officer like Potrykus.

*Worst part of the job*

In the official jargon, it's a ''death notification.'' But officers just call it the worst part of the job.
Now a sergeant, Potrykus has delivered about a dozen notifications. Each one better prepares him for the next, but it never gets easier.

Talking about a mother who fainted, a wife who pounded repeatedly on his safety vest, the veteran officer's voice changes, grows quieter.

''You take this job to shield people, to protect people,'' Potrykus said. ''And here, you can't do that.''

Hingham Police Lt. Michael Peraino, a 29-year-veteran, has made three notifications. He agreed that experience helps, but can go only so far to prepare an officer.

''It's horrible,'' Peraino said. ''It's a horrible, horrible task, and it's a horrible feeling when you're walking up to that door knowing you're going to crush somebody, crush their whole world by giving them the news they need to hear.''

Full Story: http://ledger.southofboston.com/articles/2007/04/28/news/news01.txt


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