South Middlesex Times

Michael Runyon faced a critical decision in July 2014. Parked near a liquor store he frequented after overnight shifts, the Trenton police officer considered numbing the violent memories haunting him. Instead, a friend's advice led him to call Cop2Cop, a program for New Jersey law enforcement professionals needing support.

Runyon later became a peer support specialist for Cop2Cop, crediting the program with saving his life. “Working for Cop2Cop healed me more than anything else. Helping others is now my calling,” he stated. His experience mirrors those of many state officers seeking assistance through the program since its inception in 2000.

The service celebrated 25 years on March 21, funded modestly since its legislative creation after police suicides in the late 90s. Despite its limited budget, Cop2Cop, operated by Rutgers University Behavioral Health Care, engages over 3,000 calls annually. The program's focus has expanded from suicide prevention to broader mental health support for officers.

Irena Guberman, director of operations at the UBHC National Call Center, noted the program’s evolution beyond phone support to include in-person debriefings. “In-person support is now a large part of the Cop2Cop programming,” she mentioned.

The most recent debriefing followed the fatal shooting of Newark city Detective Joseph Azcona. “We just give them a chance to talk about how they're feeling, what they're feeling and let them know that we're here to support them,” said Sabrina Howard-Mills, a retired police detective and Cop2Cop specialist.

As demand grows, the state considers new legislation to bolster funding by $500,000, stating that enhanced resources are crucial. Mark Graham, executive director of the National Call Center, emphasized, “We scrape by every year. We really need this money.”

Cop2Cop's significance has risen as cultural shifts in policing encourage open discussions about stress. “It may be an officer who's transferred to special victims and has never dealt with a baby case, and they may be struggling,” Howard-Mills explained.

Runyon's story highlights this transition. Spurred by experiences like the aftermath of an ambush in 2012, he grappled with PTSD and alcohol dependency. But a call to Cop2Cop redirected his path. "I did CPR,” he recalled of one harrowing event. “But there were six bullet holes in his back. I couldn’t save him. For some reason, that failure broke me.”

Now, Runyon embraces transparency about his past, saying, “Now, I talk to everybody about my secrets. Doing this, working for Cop2Cop, healed me more than anything else.”