If I was me now, 30 years ago, submitting my application to join the police, I’d tell myself this:
Age is just a number. It’s ok to be the youngest on the team because in a department it’s what you do that matters. One day you’ll be the oldest, the most experienced, and you’ll be the one being told ‘I wasn’t born when you joined!’ And in a blink it will be over!
Policing is a family, tied together across county, country and continents. The blue line; that symbol of pride and often sorrow. Like all families, you will love them, be frustrated by them, sometimes be disappointed, share the good times and celebrations and at all times you will have a sense of belonging. It’s an eternal tie.
Before becoming a police officer, I worked in contract catering. I had a good, well paid job with prospects. I progressed quickly, working in loss prevention and training, but I really felt something was missing. There was no real motivation to do more, and certainly no daily excitement.
I felt there had to be something out there that was a more worthwhile use of my time and, I wanted to make a difference. Ask any of my colleagues and they will no doubt tell you a similar story. I think it’s what drives us as people, and makes us better police officers.
I am very fortunate to have some truly supportive people around me. In recent years I have had to rely on these people, as me and my family have had to face the most traumatic event of our lives – the murder of my brother.
On 25 January 2014, my little brother Isaac Stone was attacked on Costin Street, Midland Road, Bedford. He was 19.
Isaac was a happy go lucky person, he always had an infectious smile on his face – a very big one at that, which everyone would comment on! He was handsome, kind hearted and very nurturing. He had time for everyone, and would always be willing to help someone else.