FORT WORTH, Texas — There’s a certain peacefulness and healing for the soul during the golden hours of sunset over the still waters of a tranquil lake.
A refuge from life’s darkest storms.
Ageless oaks, standing tall, having weathered their own storms throughout the years.
For the lucky few, if only for a moment, it’s a temporary escape from the noises that continue to echo from our past.
Sometimes even noises of commotion, of turbulence, and trauma.
“Confirm officer down, be advised she’s not breathing,” were the words transmitted by medics to a local hospital as their ambulance frantically darted through evening traffic trying to save the life of a fallen hero.
In life, it’s hard to have a testimony without first having been tested. And no one knows that better than Fort Worth Police Officer Lisa Ramsey.
“I immediately knew I was paralyzed before I hit the ground," she recalled.
It was Jan 2, 2003, and Ramsey and her narcotics task team were in the process of making a drug arrest at the EZ Food Store in Fort Worth.
“I grabbed the door to pull it open. I reached up, slid my hand up to step around and I heard this pop. I immediately felt a pain. I had a vision of my daughter, who was four at the time, kneeling beside me, just smiling at me," Ramsey said. “Yeah, I kept fighting.”
Ironically, it was the store owner's son, not the suspect being pursued by police for delivery of a controlled substance, who fired the weapon. He told police he mistook the officer for an intruder.
The .380-caliber bullet entered her left lung, clipped her arterial artery and blew out two-inches of her spine, leaving her paralyzed from the waist down. A grim reminder of the delicate balance of life and death.
“My heart stopped eight separate times," she said. "They came out and pronounced me deceased to the waiting room and then three to four minutes later, came out and said, "no, we got her back again.”
But Ramsey's fight to live was obvious. She wouldn’t die.
“I’m a warrior," she said. "I just wanted to keep living.”
Despite Lisa’s paralysis her “spirit” has never wavered and nor has her support, including that of an unexpected lifeline.
After crossing paths with Lisa, Army combat veteran Cody Phipps and she developed a life changing friendship. So much so that Cody’s son, Sam, refers to her as Aunt Lisa.
“I don’t know how to describe it, it’s a beautiful friendship, it really is’” Ramsey said.
Ironically, the two were brought together by one caring community, “Heroes On The Water," or H.O.W.
It’s a life-changing organization designed to rescue those who have spent a lifetime rescuing others.
“It has been fantastic for me, it has given me an opportunity to get out and fish, relax and enjoy life," Marine Ken Thomas said.
H.O.W. is a cost-free outdoor program for U.S. active-duty military, veterans, law enforcement officers, first responders and their families.
Katie Malone is chapter coordinator for the Brazos River Valley Chapter of H.O.W.,
“When we started coming they said bring your children, kayak, paddle, heal, have a great time," Malone said.
But when life robs us of our very essence, finding contentment can be challenging.
But when found, invigorating. And so it was for Lisa at a recent weekend H.O.W. event.
Setting aside with his own post-war Traumatic Brain Injury and Stress Disorder Cody packed-up his vehicle, along with his son Sam and drove over nine-hundred miles to a North Texas lake simply to put his “hero” on the water.
“I’m grateful to H.O.W. for the opportunity to share this with Lisa," Phipps said. "The outdoors and kayak fishing has been an outlet for me as well to heal from combat stress.”
Cody and a group organization volunteers assisted Lisa aboard the kayak that she would share with Cody on this clear, warm and breezeless Saturday morning. The two paddled out with fishing gear in tow but more importantly to simply share some downtime and enjoy their opportunity to decompress with each other.
"I’m not gonna go to a shrink, what do they know about getting shot?" Ramsey said. "When was the last time they had a gun or a knife pulled on them? I want to talk to somebody who’s actually been through something, and Cody is that person for me.”
“Everybody likes to be around people that make you feel normal, make you feel like you’re a part of the group and that’s the biggest part of what we do," Laura Lindsey, Development Director for H.O.W., said.
Meanwhile, back on the water, Ramsey, with the assistance of Cody, lands the biggest catch of her life.
“Oh my gosh Lisa, this is a monster fish,” Phipps yells, his voice reverberating across the quiet still waters.
“I thought it was gonna break my little rod, it was bending so bad,” Ramsey says with a big smile.
Phipps, still in disbelief, offers, “I’ve never seen a bass that big.”
After weighing and measuring in the 8-pound, 16-ounce, 26 inch large-mouth bass, Lisa and Cody called it a good day and started their paddle back to shore. Along the way, Lisa joyfully sang, “she is the champion, she is the champion.”
Interpreting “mother nature” is totally subjective. However, H.O.W.'s intent is clear: Their outings are a time for reconnecting and healing.
“When you hear a fish come to the surface for air or something, it’s very peaceful and healing of me," Ramsey said.
For these veterans, first responders and their families they don’t have to show up with anything, not even a good attitude. But beware, positive attitudes are contagious here.
Paddle, Fish and Heal!