🖤 SILENT SIRENS: The Responder Suicide Crisis & Why Their Lives Still Matter

By Krista Fee, RISEUP Phoenix Trauma & Crisis Institute
Founder | Practitioner | Responder Ally

Four. In six weeks.

That’s how many current and former deputies from the Harris County Sheriff’s Office died by suicide between February and March. Their names may not make headlines every night. But they matter. Their lives mattered. And their deaths demand attention.

These were trained warriors. Loyal public servants. Men and women who showed up—for their communities, for their teams, for complete strangers on the worst day of their lives.

And when it got dark for them, who showed up?

That’s the question we need to start answering—loudly, honestly, and without shame.

The Hidden Battle Behind the Badge

Suicide is now one of the leading causes of death for first responders—and it’s not just because of what they see. It’s what they carry.

Let’s call it like it is:

• Vilified by the public

• Unsupported by leadership

• Repeated exposure to trauma

• Catch-and-release justice system

• A culture that shames emotional honesty

• Ready access to lethal means

It's a toxic mix that wears down even the strongest.

And sometimes, that pain ends in silence… with a trigger pull inside a patrol car, or a phone unanswered by a friend who knew something wasn’t right.

Remember Their Names

These are the fallen from Harris County. Not in the line of duty—but in the line of despair:

• Deputy Christina Kohler, 37 – A sharp, dedicated court deputy. Found deceased March 13 after being reported missing.

• Maria Vasquez – A recently retired deputy, found March 16. Just three months into retirement.

• William Bozeman – A 24-year veteran. Mentor. Leader. Found March 19.

• Long Nguyen, 58 – A respected retired deputy, lost February 6.

Their deaths weren’t due to weakness. They were due to weight—silent, invisible, relentless weight.

The Dangerous Transition No One Talks About

One thread in these tragedies that’s been largely overlooked?

The transition to retirement.

When the uniform comes off, the calls stop, and the world stops seeing you as “Officer,” “Sergeant,” or “Deputy,” what’s left?

Too often, the answer is: not enough.

The job becomes the identity. The patch becomes the purpose. So when that disappears, what fills the void?

That’s why we have to start helping responders build identity and purpose outside the badge—from hire to retire. Your value must be grounded in core values, not call signs.

Your mission? Has to be deeper than a shift schedule.

Answering the Sirens: RISEUP Responders

At RISEUP Phoenix, we don’t just talk about trauma—we fight it.

That’s why we partner with Battle2be Inc., and their RISEUP Responders Program—a trauma-informed, culturally competent initiative that offers low-cost access to:

• Peer- and pro-designed mental wellness training

• Science-backed trauma recovery methods

• Real-world emotional regulation tools

• Life mastery and relational repair systems

Built by responders, for responders.

This isn’t therapy fluff. This is battlefield-tested inner transformation. A tactical toolkit for healing. A lifeline when the world goes dark.

Because no one heals alone.

How You Can Help

✅ Share this story.
✅ Check on your people.
✅ Advocate for RISEUP programs in your agency.
✅ Support others in building identity, purpose, and voice—before the uniform comes off.

📞 If you're in crisis or know someone who is:

988 Suicide & Crisis Lifeline (Call or text 988)
Battle2be RISEUP Responders: www.battle2be.org
RISEUP Phoenix Institute: www.riseupphoenix.com

THEIR LIVES MATTER.
YOURS DOES TOO.

🕊️ We rise together, or not at all.