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The Spokesman-Review Newspaper
Spokane, Washington  Est. May 19, 1883

He Wears Badge Of Devotion

In his next life, Bob Smalley most likely will be a cop.

He’s had plenty of practice in this life. As chaplain for the Kootenai County Sheriff’s Department, he’s walked the walk and talked the talk for eight years, but a little more prudently than most.

He knows how to cope after grisly accidents, disasters and suicides. He knows what his soul needs after knocking on a door at 3 a.m. to tell parents that their son or daughter died in a car wreck.

“There’ve been times I’ve had tears in my eyes, times I’ve had to pull over and compose myself,” Bob says. “I go to the mountains, turn on music and read my Bible. It has a soothing effect.”

Bob was a meat cutter and unemployed pastor in Coeur d’Alene when a friend suggested he try the chaplaincy. One night spent riding with deputies convinced him of the need.

His deputies responded to a suicide. Bob comforted the family of the dead young man and left believing his efforts were inadequate. But a deputy told him he did a great job.

“I realized I just had to be there, warm, compassionate,” Bob says. “Jesus was a comforter. I feel it’s a calling.”

The department had volunteer chaplains for prisoners, but no one for staff. Deputies unwound at home, church or, too often, nowhere. They were ready for Bob.

He’s a burly, straight-talking guy with baseball-mitt hands and a broomlike white mustache. The padded brown sheriff’s department jacket suits him.

He rides with deputies regularly to understand what they encounter. He doesn’t preach; he listens and encourages them to talk. Bob even extends his helpful ear and sage counseling to Idaho State Police and emergency response workers.

“Most don’t want to talk, but they need to manage the stress,” he says. “If they don’t, a sight or sound could release it from them at the most inappropriate time.”

Bob himself struggles most with Sudden Infant Death Syndrome deaths, which typically happen at home and are reported to police agencies.

He arrives with deputies to comfort shattered and often hysterical parents. Deputies are heartsick. Bob can’t help but visualize his grandchildren.

That’s when his wife of 32 years steps in.

“I have a very, very good wife,” he says. “She understands my moodiness.”

Despite it all, Bob wishes he played an even larger role in law enforcement.

“If I had known years ago what I know now, I would’ve been an officer,” he says. “It’s not the power, it’s the helping people, the being human. I consider law enforcement a ministry.”

Digging deep

Money is an easy out - and perfectly acceptable if it’s available - for some people who don’t have the time to give to their favorite causes. Coeur d’Alene’s Brad and Shariae Dugdale have somehow managed to find both.

The Dugdales just contributed $5,000 to the Coeur d’Alene School District’s EXCEL Foundation and $5,000 to the North Idaho College Foundation.

I can hear all sorts of people saying, “Sure, if I had that kind of money, I’d contribute, too.” Maybe, but the Dugdales didn’t wait for their money to accumulate before helping out.

Since they arrived in 1989, Brad, who’s vice president of D.A. Davidson and Co., has headed the Coeur d’Alene All-America City committee, the city’s Chamber of Commerce and the NIC Foundation.

He helped found Concerned Businesses of North Idaho and served on a county and a bank board. Consider him a role model.

Who are the role models in your community? Trumpet their accomplishments to Cynthia Taggart, “Close to Home,” 608 Northwest Blvd., Suite 200, Coeur d’Alene, ID, 83814; fax to 765-7149; call 765-7128; or e-mail to cynthiat@spokesman.com.

, DataTimes