Ted Barris

Like many, I found myself drawn to the real-life drama of two families coping. In the aftermath of Sgt. Ryan Russell’s senseless death in the streets of Toronto, last Wednesday morning, I watched the policing family try to come to terms with the loss of one of its own. Then, on Tuesday afternoon, I listened and watched his widow Christine Russell put her mourning into words in front of 12,000 people.

“Ryan always put others before him,” she said at the Toronto Convention Centre funeral Tuesday. “On Jan. 12, it cost him his life.”

Again, like so many of you, I thought about the pain and the loss that both she and Sgt. Russell’s policing fraternity have experienced over the past week. For all of them, there’s now this huge hole where once was a vibrant human being. But above all else in this tragic story, I was drawn to something one of Russell’s working partners said about the 35-year-old officer. Craig Peddle spoke to the Toronto Star this week about the duo’s work on the guns and gangs task force. Peddle praised Russell’s dedication above and beyond the call of duty.

“There are some people who run towards the sound of gunshots and others who run away,” Peddle told the Star. “Ryan died a hero.”

It may well be heroism. It might be a greater sense of dedication to a job than most people feel. It might even be called martyrdom, given the incredible attention that’s been paid the young officer since he died last Wednesday. I prefer to call what Sgt. Russell did on a daily basis, the purest form of service.

Further reading of what Const. Peddle observed in his partner Russell reveals the man’s passion to make a difference every shift of his career. Peddle explained that he was struck by Russell’s insights in the Flemingdon Park area of Toronto – knowing all the streets, all the business owners and even the usual suspects. Peddle said he thought if Russell could, he would have stayed on the job 10 hours after his shift was over. That’s dedication to the Toronto Police Service’s motto – to serve and protect.

I’ve seen service in so many forms over the years. Of course, as a sometimes historian and author, I have had the opportunity to interview perhaps 3,500 men and women who have served in Canada’s armed forces in wartime and in peacekeeping missions. All those veterans have given me a greater knowledge of what it meant to put their lives on hold and dedicate themselves to the greater good in a distant corner of the globe.

But I’ve also met clergy who practise what they preach, service club members who do more than carry their membership cards around in their wallets, volunteers who fulfil every promise they make and more, and retailers who sow as much into their communities as they reap in profits at the till.

What makes this kind of service distinctive and notable, I think, is that it isn’t always noticed. I’ve watched Rev. Newton Reed help people in this community without any recognition. I’ve watched Chuck Gullickson devote time via the Lions Club that many never see. I’ve admired the round-the-clock dedication to community that only volunteer Barb Murphy can exhibit. And I’ve admired the extraordinary commitment retailer Pat Higgins exhibits whether it’s a kids hockey team in need of prizes or the hospital in need of campaign organizing. These are people for whom service is not an inconvenience or a sacrifice, but a reflex and a sense of satisfaction.

I have utmost respect for anyone who serves others – whether it’s part of the job (as in the case of Sgt. Ryan Russell) or part of one’s makeup (when members of a community give up their most precious possession – their free time). And it is perhaps the most appropriate time of the year to acknowledge public service.

On Monday, Americans paused and celebrated one of their own. Jan. 17 was the 25th anniversary of Martin Luther King Jr. Day. Few members of U.S. society have lived the service ethic more often or more completely than the former Baptist pastor from Georgia did. Rev. King served his church. He served several U.S. presidents. He served his African-American brothers and sisters (turning over his Nobel Peace Prize of $54,123, for example, to the civil rights movement in 1964). And he served humankind – from soup kitchens, to non-violent protest marches to a podium on the stairs of the Lincoln Memorial where he inspired a nation with his actions and his words.

“Life’s most persistent and urgent question is: What are you doing for others?” King said once.

Clearly, the likes of Ryan Russell and those who serve others selflessly know the answer.