Officer's death hits close to home

It was someone I knew.
A Merrillville police officer, who happened to be one of my classmates at Franklin College, was killed in the line of duty.
Officer Nick Shultz was mortally wounded Sept. 5 when he responded to a call about a man moving back into a condominium from which he had been evicted.
Upon arriving, the suspect fired shots at officers, striking Shultz in the head. Nick was transported to an Illinois hospital where he remained on life support until Sunday morning.
I learned of the shooting through my dad and brother, who posted stories from the local paper in Lake County. I knew Nick lived there, but didn’t know he went on to become a police officer after graduation.
But when I saw his photo attached to stories about him being shot, I knew.
He was the boy who appeared at so many of the same social events as me. We had classes together. And we graduated together.
And this time, the story of a police officer dying while doing his or her job belonged to a classmate.
So far this year, 73 police officers have been killed in the line of duty nationwide, four of those being Indiana officers.
It’s sad to learn of any police officer dying in the line of duty, but it’s particularly difficult for me because so many members of my family, including my father, are or have been involved in law enforcement.
Every time one of my uncles or my dad put on their uniform and walked out the door, they risked being badly injured or killed.
And Nick did that too.
He turned 24 a week before his death and had only been with the department for 13 months. At a young age, he was willing to risk everything to protect others.
In college, he studied sociology and played on the football team, wearing the number 79. He was funny and sweet, and he had a bright future.
All week I’ve been reminded of the tragedy through social media and the news.
Even as I write this, Nick’s picture occupies much of my Facebook timeline. I imagine it will be that way for the next few weeks as his family and friends continue to mourn his death.
Nick isn’t the first police officer I’ve known who died while on watch.
In March, a police officer I knew my whole life died in an on-duty car accident. He worked with my dad for more than 25 years and was his good friend.
It was sad to see my dad and so many men I considered uncles mourn Jim Morrissy, and it was even worse to see the unthinkable happen to a department I’ve been connected to since the day I was born.
Every day officers across the country put on their badges and take the ultimate risk. They put their own lives on the line to protect others.
Even when we’re annoyed with them for writing us tickets, we must remember they’re the people called to help when danger arises. And it’s important to thank them for making our communities safer and better to live in.
Shultz and Morrissy didn’t die in vain, and their lives won’t easily be forgotten. They live on in the hearts of their family, friends and their brothers and sisters in blue.
And I’ll always remember them. Both times, it was someone I knew.