Helping victims navigate pain

Chaplains comfort survivors in their darkest hours

When Danny Lynchard is called in the middle of the night, it means that someone has died a traumatic or unexpected death in Tulsa.

It's his job, or the job of one of the 16 volunteer pastors in the Tulsa Police and Fire Chaplaincy Corps, to tell the victim's family.

In 26 years of service as a chaplain for the corps, Lynchard has notified more than 1,000 families of the death of a loved one from homicide, suicide, fire, disaster or other unexpected death.

"The hardest part is when you ask them, 'Is there anything else we can do for you?' and they say, 'Can you bring them back?' and it's the helplessness of knowing that we can't. That is the hardest part," Lynchard said. "There is a look on their face — you know the question is coming. The look says, 'I know you can't do this, but you asked, so I am going to tell you.' "

Each chaplain in the corps is a pastor or associate pastor in the Tulsa area. Each is trained in police protocol, crime-scene preservation and the needs of families who are suffering traumatic grief.

Lynchard, who has been the director of the corps since 1987, ranks homicide as the most traumatic death experience for family members. He carries with him many images of his contacts with the families of homicide victims.

There was the elderly woman who was killed at her gravesite by her son, who then turned the gun on himself. As Lynchard approached the scene, he could see her scarf flapping in the wind as she sat dead in a wheelchair just feet from her husband's grave.

Lynchard remembers standing with the family of Cori Baker on the edge of the Arkansas River while police searched the water for the missing 13-year-old girl's body last year. He consoled them while they experienced a range of emotions — from "hoping that the boat finds a body in the river and rolls her up on the boat" to "hoping that they don't find a body in the river and roll her up on the boat," Lynchard said.

After the shock of learning that someone has died, families move on to doubt and disbelief, and another image Lynchard carries with him shows why his chaplains always go to the scene before notifying the family of a death.

Lynchard was called out late one night to a scene where a man was shot during a robbery at his garage apartment. He remembers seeing the gunshot wound to the man's head, but while in the apartment, Lynchard also noted that the victim had a black Gibson guitar.

"I left from there to go find his mom at 3 in the morning, and she thinks I made this story up or I've got the wrong guy, and she asks me why am I doing this to her? Were you there? How do you know it is him? And I describe his apartment, and I mention that black Gibson guitar.

"That scream she let out because she knew I found the right place and I was talking to her about her son — that is an unforgettable thing. That is why all of our chaplains go to the scene and make mental notes of pictures on the wall, a piece of furniture, anything that can help that person believe you were actually there and you know what you are talking about.''

Homicides pose unique challenges for chaplains because they have to balance their ministerial duties with preserving evidence in ongoing investigations. Often the killer is a family member or someone close to the family, he said.

"We are there to give the truth, and sometimes we can't tell the truth," Lynchard said. "So the best thing for us is to not know that much about the investigation so we can say we don't know."

As difficult as the job can be, all of the chaplains find satisfaction from the work, Lynchard said.

"Everyone will tell you that in a time when their (survivors') decision-making ability is all but taken from them, we know we can come in and help steer them down the right path in those early days, and we can provide information that they would not get anywhere else. We know it helps. We see the difference. That is the fulfillment we get," he said.

The needs of the victims are the same, but the intensity of an individual's grief varies.

"Everyone grieves the same," Lynchard said. "They go through the same stages, but their mourning is the expression of that grief, and that is often expressed differently. Some people become isolationists. Some people want to talk, but all of them want the victim remembered."

Nicole Marshall 581-8459
nicole.marshall@tulsaworld.com

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Helping victims navigate pain

Chaplains comfort survivors in their darkest hours

When Danny Lynchard is called in the middle of the night, it means that someone has died a traumatic or unexpected death in Tulsa.

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