On a Personal Note: I was young once!

Columbia Valley RCMP Staff Sgt. Marko Shehovac shares his stories of policing and life.

A while back, I told you of some of my many experiences working in Rossland.  As stated in the past, working in a small town provides you little opportunity to let your hair down and blow off some steam. There are high expectations where you have to live to lead by example. People are always watching and ready to criticize every move you make. However, when I arrived there, new to the community, I hooked up with a few guys who one of the other officers hung out with. Ron Cox and gang, I refer to them.  Coxy’s son to my surprise lives in the Valley and is with the Windermere Fire Department. Small world. Ron told his son this story; hence, I’m a legend in his eyes. Other than this small group, no one really knew who I was. First week in Rossland, I learn they have this yearly event called “Golden City Days.” To make matters worse, they have this Golden City Saloon set up above an abandoned garage just for this special  weekend. I should have known not to try to keep up to my newfound friends when it came to just a few drinks. They worked hard and they played hard. I unfortunately tried to keep up with them. Fortunately, my wife was out of town this particular weekend — a dangerous coincidence. There I am, later in the evening, dancing on the table, taking my shirt off (younger days it was a six pack) and letting my hair down with the comfort that no one knows who the new guy is. The mayor who was playing the town sheriff at the saloon told me I couldn’t dance on the table. My newfound buddies later informed me that everyone wanted to know who the guy was who was dancing and taking off his shirt. My new buddies told them, “That  person you refer to is the new RCMP officer who just transferred in.” Word was from pretty much everyone who learned this was, “I think he’s going to fit in and we’re going to like him.”  The following year, for Golden City days, I had to work. I walked up to security and warned them to control the drunks or else. I’m older, wiser, more mature, my six pack is now a keg and, rather than 12 hours, it takes four days to recover. Coxy came into the office out of the blue a while back. Hence, this flash back.