‘What needed to be done’

Published 11:00 am Thursday, April 9, 2015

Bruce Dean was buried in late February at Arlington National Cemetery in Washington DC.

When uniformed officers entered Springville High School in February, they were on a mission. It wasn’t to educate or arrest, condemn or capture — it was to make a meaningful delivery.

Just days before, one of these officers, Springville Police Sgt. Wayne Walton, had been witness to the funeral of a former law enforcement officer and military veteran. The ceremony, in his mind, was lacking two things — complete respect and closure. This veteran, St. Clair County resident Bruce Dean, deserved better, he thought.

Walton entered the school that day carrying an American flag. By the time he left the property, respect and closure would be attained.


LIFE


Bruce Dean’s life ended in St. Clair County, but it didn’t begin there. He grew up in Shelby County as the youngest of five children. His father died when he was 7.

At 18, he signed up for the U.S. Marines as the country was engaged in the Vietnam War, and it wasn’t long before Bruce was overseas. However, his time in combat was short. Dean was struck by a sniper’s bullet in the thigh and transported back to the States. His family met him at a Texas hospital, where doctors removed an inch from his left femur.

The procedure left him in excruciating pain, and military provided him with special shoes that allowed him to walk. He was discharged at the rank of sergeant. Dean went home to Alabama, where he began a career in law enforcement and started a family.

But normalcy escaped him.

For the rest of Dean’s life, his injury, in one form or another, ruled his decisions. He suffered from post-traumatic stress, and the pain in his leg led him down dark paths of substance abuse and isolation. A member of his family said between November 2014 and January 2015 he sought detoxification treatment an average of more than once a week.

In January, Dean committed suicide at his home just outside Springville.


FAMILY


Late in life, Dean returned to St. Clair County to be closer to his son’s ex-wife, Kristie Hicks, and his grandchildren. Hicks said Dean had spent several tumultuous years in California, Nevada and Utah. Out West, he suffered from relentless pain in his leg, knees and back, and he began to experience delusions and seizures in 2010.

When he returned in 2013, he settled in Pelham but after a year decided he wanted to be closer to his family. Bruce moved in with Kristie and her new husband for a short time before purchasing his own home. There, things deteriorated.

“He drank a lot, but he was in a lot of pain and couldn’t get medicine,” Hicks said. “He had always been on pain meds since doctors had declared that his problems with his knees and back were inoperable.”

Hicks said Dean sought treatment for alcoholism at the Department of Veteran’s Affairs in Birmingham. In order to get there however, he stopped taking taxis and started contacting local emergency services. Dean would dial 911 and use the ambulance for a ride to the VA. There, he’d spend a short time in detox before being discharged and returning home.

“At the very end, he would be waiting for the ambulance on the porch with his bags,” Hicks said.

Through those house calls, Dean became connected with the Springville community in ways he likely wasn’t aware, namely with Billy Reynolds.

Reynolds is chaplain for the St. Clair County chapter of the Iron Angels, a motorcycle club composed of many former military and law enforcement veterans. He also serves as volunteer chaplain with the Pleasant Hill Fire Department — a position he only took up the fall of 2014. The first call Reynolds went on with the Department was to see Dean.

“I saw the Purple Heart sticker on his car and immediately my heart went out to him,” Reynolds said of Dean. “When I met him, I recognized the PTSD immediately.”

With the Department, Reynolds went to see Dean several times over the coming months, and around the end of the year he decided to reach out to the veteran. Reynolds ran into Dean in the store one day and made a friendly gesture.

“I told him I just lived about a mile down the road from him, and I asked him if he liked deer meat,” Reynolds said of Dean. “He said he loved it. I told him I hunt right here in the area, and the next time we cook some stew I’ll bring a pot over.”

On Jan. 28, Reynolds made preparations to keep his word. He and his wife prepared a pot for Dean, and Reynolds decided to deliver it the next morning.

He wasn’t able to, though.

“Jan. 28 was the day we got the call on him,” Reynolds said. “I knew immediately it was his address.”

Kristie Hicks came to visit Dean that evening, and looking through the window she saw him lying on the bed. She said she assumed his unresponsiveness was due to prescriptions or alcohol. She called emergency services, and Reynolds soon arrived. After Reynolds gained access to Dean’s home, they found he had been deceased for some time, a victim of a self-inflicted injury.

“After Kristie told me everything that had gone on in Bruce’s life, she said she wanted to make sure he got the proper recognition,” Reynolds said. “I was touched. I promised her he would.”


CEREMONY


Reynolds arranged for several military and law enforcement groups to appear at Bruce Dean’s funeral, including the Blue Knights, the Iron Angels, the Patriot Guard and Alabama State Fraternal Order of Police Honor Guard.

Springville Police Department Sgt. Wayne Walton is a member of the Honor Guard, an organization that travels across the state to pay tribute to fallen officers by posting colors. 

“It is a way for those of us who believe in the people who serve — members of the police and military — to pay final respects,” Walton said. “It’s a way to give them what they deserve.”

And that’s precisely what Dean didn’t receive at his funeral, Walton thought as he witnessed the ceremony. Dean’s ashes arrived late. Worse, there wasn’t a flag available to present to Dean’s family.

To compensate, members of the Patriot Guard removed a small flag from one of their bikes. Reynolds and John Burkes of the Patriot Guard folded the flag, and Walton presented the small, road-worn trinket to Dean’s grandson, Beau, a Springville High student, after the presentation.

Walton said he wasn’t happy after the ceremony. He and Reynolds got to talking and decided that the job wasn’t finished. “It just bothered Wayne really badly,” Reynolds said.

Soon after, Hicks received a call. On the other end of the line, Reynolds had a proposal.

 “He said Wayne wanted to present the flag to Beau the right way,” Hicks said. “He said he wanted to do it in front of Beau’s class, so all his classmates knew his grandfather deserved to be honored.”

So, on Feb. 18, Walton, in full uniform, found Beau Dean in history class. Desks were rearranged to make room for the presentation, and Beau sat in a chair pulled out from the group.

“Wayne explained to the class that one of their classmates had something that was rightfully his that wasn’t given to him,” Hicks said. “He said he was going to do that then and do it right. And that’s what he did.”

Walton and Reynolds said students were wiping tears away from their eyes as Walton executed the Honor Guard routine. Upon presenting the flag to Beau, Walton leaned forward and whispered into Beau’s ear.

“On behalf of the President of the United States of America,” Walton said. “I’d like to present you with this flag for your grandfather’s service and dedication.”

“We did what needed to be done,” Walton said.


COMMUNITY


For Reynolds and Walton, the ceremony at Springville High was about respect. Dean deserved it, and the two helped make it a reality. But in addition, the story of Dean’s death and the ceremonies that followed are similarly representative of the Springville community.

Before Dean died, Hicks and Walton didn’t have a good relationship. But when respect was on the line, their feelings about each other didn’t matter anymore. Walton said that’s the kind of community Springville is.

“We’re really tight. You can always count on everybody to pull together,” he said. “If somebody needs help, you can count on the Blue Knights and the Iron Angels. You can count on law enforcement. We’ll be there.”