On Monday, we learned of the third, and then the fourth, death by suicide of a police officer who answered the call of duty in response to the violent attempts to overthrow our democracy on Jan. 6.
If we’re going to change the way we think about officer suicides, we need to start mandating statistical collection.
Last Thursday, Washington, D.C., Metropolitan Police Department Officer Gunther Hashida was found dead at his home, according to a spokeswoman for his department. Hashida, who was 43, spent almost 20 years on the force and left behind a wife and three children. He had been assigned to the emergency response team of his department’s Special Operations Division, a team that found itself in the thick of the violence at the U.S. Capitol on Jan. 6. Hours after news of Hashida’s death, MPD said the death of 26-year-old officer Kyle DeFreytag, reported July 10, was also ruled a suicide.
Two other officers who helped defend the Capitol against the terror of a violent mob, Jeffrey Smith of MPD and Howard Liebengood of the Capitol Police, died by suicide within 30 days of the riot.
After Jan. 7, when Officer Brian Sicknick died from two strokes, Washington’s chief medical examiner found that “all that transpired” during the riot “played a role” in Sicknick’s condition.
Whenever a death can be linked to the trauma of duty, it should be categorized as a line-of-duty death, as was the case in Sicknick’s death. Yet in many police departments, death by suicide is not recognized as such. The failure to recognize a suicide as a line-of-duty death can mean a loss of line-of-duty death benefits, including funeral expenses. In fact, a death by suicide may negate life insurance benefits under some policies.
Hashida’s family has started a GoFundMe campaign to help defray funeral expenses. This shouldn’t have to happen.
Acknowledging an officer’s death by suicide as work-related can provide a form of solace to a grieving family, whose members are otherwise bereft of the typical honors and gratitude bestowed upon surviving family members when their loved one is killed as the direct result of an adversary.
The law falls short of making data submissions by police agencies mandatory. And that’s a major flaw.
If we’re going to change the way we think about officer suicides, we need to start mandating statistical collection. The suicide deaths of Hashida, DeFreytag, Smith and Liebengood are stark reminders that suicide “claims more law enforcement lives than felonious killings or accidental deaths in the line of duty,” as writer Tara Perine cited in her May article for Police Chief magazine.
Perine also noted that despite the plethora of data collected on all manner of law enforcement activity, she had to rely upon figures from nonprofit organizations that in turn rely on voluntary reports of officer suicide statistics by police department because there has been “no national counting of the act that takes more officers’ lives in the United States than any other.”
Perine wrote that the numbers she was able to ferret out indicate that while in 2019 suicide was the No. 10 cause of death overall in the U.S., the loosely available data on police officers indicated suicide was their leading cause of death. Perine explained that data collection is set to improve with the 2020 passage by the House and Senate of the Law Enforcement Suicide Data Collection Act, which tasks the FBI with managing this new data collection. But the law falls short of making data submissions by police agencies mandatory. That’s a major flaw.








