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A Touching Tribute by: daughter Officer Pat Nelson
Peace officers are heroes everyday as they go to work
protecting those they serve, no matter what department they work for, the
color of their uniform or the shape of their badge. When a peace officer is
killed in the line of duty, no matter the cause of death they leave a
legacy of valor for those they work with, their families and the communities
they serve.
My father, Russell Nelson was a MN Department of
Natural Resources Conservation Officer for five years before a tragic plane
accident ended his life. During his years as a Conservation Officer, my
father proved his valor and dedication many times to his community and his
profession.
A Conservation Officer has a unique job in the
peacekeeping profession, that of being a teacher, enforcer and protector.
Many Conservation Officers have a deep love of nature and cannot imagine
being in a profession where you cannot go out into the woods, on the lake or
be out in the field. My father was such a person that, if he could be out
in nature, walking through the woods with his faithful German Shorthair
companion, Festus, and enjoying the solitude, then everything was right in
the world. He enjoyed being out in the woods, even before he became a
Conservation Officer, and the woods brought out the brilliant poet that was
locked deep inside. He filled journals with his writings, which expressed
the deep thoughts in his soul.
My dad’s first assignment was in Pierz, Minnesota.
Soon after receiving his first assignment, he wed my mother Jody. While
they set up a farm, my dad was out chasing deer poachers with glee. He had
a standard car that he would chase those deer poachers with and he became
notorious for catching them. My Uncle Pete once told me that dad was so
good at catching poachers because he would image what he would do to get
deer. He was a lover of nature, however his real passion was for hunting.
As they say, the best peace officers are the ones who think like the best
criminals.
Along with chasing deer poachers and other animal
poachers, he also proved his valor and received special recognition for
saving a person whose car ran off the road and turned over in the river. My
dad dove into the murky waters and rescued the trapped person from their
car, saving them from drowning. He had such courage that a person close to
him once told me that my dad did not even think twice about diving into the
river.
In 1973, just as duck-hunting season was starting, a
huge opportunity came his way. He promised to take my mother Jody duck
hunting for the first time, however their first daughter, myself, was born.
Of course it was fitting that their child be born right on the week of some
sort of hunting opener. Unfortunately, my mother, Jody has never had the
chance to go duck hunting since.
After spending time in Pierz, my dad was transferred to
Garrison, MN, near Mille Lacs Lake. There he got to work with some of his
friends and co-workers, enforcing fishing and hunting laws, along with
teaching some gun safety courses. During this time, he was able to also
spend a lot of time with his family in Grand Rapids, including his younger
brother, Pete. During the summer, Uncle Pete spent a lot of time at the
house on Loon Lake that my parents had moved to. Dad was able to use his
carpentry skills and could go out on the lake and do a little fishing
without ever leaving home.
In September of 1975, my father had received
complaints about duck poachers on some of the smaller lakes in the area.
After returning from a deer-hunting trip with his parents in celebration of
his birthday, he contacted his friend, Clint Reem, a pilot who agreed to go
out with my father on September 28, 1975 to spot duck poachers. At the
time, dad was two days away from his 28th
birthday and I was six days away from my 2nd
birthday. Clint and my father took off from Big Lake when they experienced
a mechanical problem that affected the wing of the small airplane, causing
it to crash. Clint and my father were both killed on impact.
My dad was on his way to ensure everyone in Minnesota
were given the opportunity to enjoy the duck-hunting opener and to help
those members in his community feel safe on those smaller lakes. He was
well respected and mourned by many in northern Minnesota and in the
Department of Natural Resources. His wife, my mother gave birth to their
second daughter, my sister, Penny, in December of 1975.
My father, Conservation Officer Russ Nelson, has always
held a prominent place in my life, even though I was very young when he
died. Although it has taken a lot of prying, I hear stories about his
personality, his courage and his shyness and I now see these qualities in my
sister and myself. Although my dad died in a plane crash while performing
his peacekeeping duties this tragedy never deterred anyone in my family from
taking on the role of a law enforcement officer. I am a police officer with
the Minneapolis Police Department, where my mother Jody is a lieutenant and
we were the first mother/daughter law enforcement team in the state. My
sister Penny is a corpsman in the Navy. We have all grown and flourished
with portraits of my father smiling on and treasuring the stories and his
legacy.
Anyone who says that a peace officer that dies in an
accident is not proving their valor or making the same sacrifice as those
who are killed by violence do not understand the impact of an officer giving
their life in the line of duty. Whether an officer is on the way to the
call, at the call or leaving the call, they are still protecting society.
Their loss affects their families, their co-workers and their community as
profoundly as any officer who is killed by violence. We must never forget
them and we must honor them, always.
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