Strangers of Mercy

There were strangers at the door that first morning after Sharon Knutson’s husband was killed in the line of duty. Officials from the Arizona Department of Public Safety had come the night before to tell her that her husband, Doug, a motorcycle patrolman, had been hit by a car and killed on the Loop 202. Her sisters and father had already arrived to be with her and her children. But now, on this sad Saturday morning in early 1998, an unfamiliar group showed up.

They handed her a check for $4,000.

She remembers looking at them in disbelief. What is this, she thought. Who are they? But even their answer didn’t mean much. Like most Arizonans, she had never heard of the 100 Club. But she was astonished to learn the money they had given her wasn’t a loan. There were no strings attached, no forms to fill out, no accounting to anyone on how her family spent it. It was just hers.

“You expect your family and church to be there when there’s a tragedy, but you don’t expect strangers to be there,” she says.

The 100 Club isn’t a stranger to her anymore. Now remarried, Sharon Knutson-Felix is the executive director of this homegrown effort started 40 years ago by a group of businessmen who wanted to help the families of fallen officers.

“At first, the 100 Club didn’t want people to know about them,” Sharon says, “but we’ve taken a new approach.” The club has not only expanded its image, but its mission, and these days, first-responder families throughout Arizona can talk about how these friendly angels showed up at their doors when they needed them most.

Sharon is probably the perfect person to lead this special organization. She not only lost her husband, but she earlier lost her son, Ricky, so she understands the depth of grieving as a mother and a widow. She knows what it’s like to lie in the dark, scared to death.

“We flip the light on for people [in] the darkest days of their life,” she says.

A lot of people in Phoenix will remember the name of legendary zoning attorney Frank Haze Burch, a bear of a man who always wore a bola tie and talked straight and strong. In the early 1970s, as the first big population boom hit Phoenix, it was Burch who handled the biggest, most important zoning cases. He was so good at what he did, the rumor was he never lost a case.

What a lot of people didn’t know about Burch, who died in 2005, is that his father, Jaze Burch, was the first Phoenix police officer killed in the line of duty back in 1925.

He later wrote to his children: “I remember yet that night, though I was only 5 years old. Dad was assigned to the East Phoenix Precinct, an area which included his home. Phoenix was so small he would walk to work each day. He also patrolled his beat on foot. Dad had gone to work as usual. About 3 a.m., my mother and I were awakened by the sound of gunfire. The shots seemed so close, and mother knew he was the only officer on duty in the area. Mother and I were waiting at the door when the chief of police arrived.”

He wrote that he always was aware he was carrying his father’s good name and took care to honor it. In 1965, he did that permanently when he became the founding father and first president of the 100 Club, gathering some of his business friends to help launch the effort.

Burch patterned the organization after a Detroit group founded in 1952, and now, several states have groups like this, although none are as comprehensive as the one in Arizona.

At first, the 100 Club gave $1,000 checks only to families of fallen police officers, but the donations have expanded over the years.

In 2002, it extended benefits to the families of all public safety officers and firefighters throughout Arizona, including tribal and federal officers. And for years, they’ve not only provided money in cases of a death but also in cases of catastrophic injury.

Today, families who have lost someone in the line of duty receive $15,000 from the 100 Club. That amount can go up to $18,000 for families whose loved ones have been seriously injured. Families who lose an officer while off duty receive a benefit of $5,000.

In 2007 alone, the 100 Club gave out $483,000 to families of first-responders. In their 40-plus years, they’ve helped more than 500 families by giving away $2.6 million.

Every penny has come from donations – sometimes from a corporate sponsor, like the Fiesta Bowl, the Arizona Federal Credit Union, the Davidson Family Trust, or garagefly.com. Sometimes it’s a $1 check that arrives in an envelope with shaky handwriting from an elderly woman or man who just wants to help. Sometimes it’s a monthly donation through the United Way or other workplace program.

Over the years, the leaders of the 100 Club have seen other needs that they couldn’t ignore, so now they also provide “safety enhancement stipends.” This money goes toward purchasing life-saving equipment for police officers and firefighters, such as ballistic helmets, Tazers, bullet- and stab-proof vests, fire tents and breathing apparatuses.

Furthermore, they have a “professional advisory team” that helps families deal with life-changing events, offers 14 annual scholarships to children of fallen officers, and provides free wills to first-responders.

“You don’t need to be a member to get benefits. They’re available to all public safety officers and firefighters in this state,” Sharon says.

She adds that first-responders make decent but not lavish wages and, like many working families, live paycheck to paycheck. Often, wives and husbands of officers also work to make ends meet. When someone dies in the line of duty, their families eventually receive their base pay for life, but officers usually make far more than their base pay due to overtime, shift differential or extra stipends for special kills.

All of those extras disappear when the officer is killed or maimed. “The wife often has to leave her job to care for him or her family,” Sharon adds, so the family’s income is further eroded.

“We hand them a check, and it’s enough to buy them at least three months,” she says. With this money, families can pay the mortgage and not fear losing their houses. They can put food on the table, fly people in for the funeral and handle all those little things that require immediate cash.

Here’s one of 100 Club’s secrets to success: All of its staff members are women over 50. At least, Sharon thinks this is an asset. She thinks their maturity helps make them perfect for this organization, and she has a point.

But I think it’s more than that. I think it’s who these women are: All of their families are involved in law enforcement or firefighting. (The newest employee, Patti Ballentine, is the wife of Jack Ballentine, who retired from the Phoenix Police Department a year ago to head the Fire Department’s arson investigations unit. You can read more about him on page 116 of this month’s issue.)

If you don’t know a first-responder family, you’re missing out on knowing people who don’t take for granted that their loved ones’ lives are on the line every day to protect the people of Arizona. This is a given.

Nobody wants something bad to happen, of course, but everyone is ready when it does – or as ready as anyone can be at a time when your world falls apart.

And when it happens, they gather together as tightly and sincerely as any good family.

Sharon’s a good example of that. After Doug’s death, she did volunteer work, becoming president of Arizona Concerned Police Survivors, and after the terrorist attacks of September 11, 2001, she rushed to New York City, where she spent 24 days at Ground Zero.

About that time, the job at the 100 Club opened up and she was asked to apply. She wasn’t sure she wanted a full-time job but couldn’t pass this up.

“After 9-11, everyone was asking, ‘Am I doing anything important?,’ and I wanted to be sure I was,” she says. She now thinks she has the best job in the world.

“It’s a sad job but a dream job,” she says.

Sharon says she usually delivers the checks herself. She knows the grief she has faced in her life will help her get through it and perhaps help the family get through their grief.

“I can sometimes be a buffer, a comforter,” she says.

The 100 Club is in good hands, and their hands are gently folded around the shoulders of all Arizona police officers, firefighters and their families. It’s something all of Arizona can talk about with pride.
For more information about the 100 Club, visit 100club.org.