‘Something good has come from out of the ashes’
TORONTO POLICE HORSE LOVINGLY NAMED FOR SLAIN OFFICER GRADUATES WITH HIGH HONOURS
Harold Russell is 93 years old and in Russell family circles he’s known as Grandpa. He speaks candidly about his grandchildren and great- grandchildren. They keep him young. But he worries about his son, Glenn.
Harold and Glenn were in Florida in early January 2011, miles away from a snow- whipped day in Toronto. They were up early and having coffee when news of what was happening back home began trickling in. A man named Richard Kachkar had stolen a snowplow and gone on a rampage through the city’s streets, careening into parked cars, causing havoc and leading police on a chase that ended with the tragic death of Sgt. Ryan Russell — Glenn’s boy.
“We watched the whole thing on TV,” Harold Russell recalls. Ryan’s death at 35 sits heavy with Glenn. It is a father’s ache. It never ends. He got past losing Ryan, eventually, but as a parent — as a retired Toronto police officer himself — there is no getting over it. But one recent day this summer wasn’t about the past, so much. It was a “good day, a joyful day,” Glenn said, for him and his wife, Linda, and for Ryan’s widow, Christine, and for Nolan, the little boy who was only two years old when his father was killed in the line of duty.
“It is a big thrill for us being here and knowing that something good has come from out of the ashes,” Glenn said. That something is a 1,600-lb., purebred Clydesdale horse. An equine police rookie, originally from Mennonite farm country northwest of Toronto, named Russell. Russell was standing nearby as Glenn spoke — a big brown animal with big brown eyes, tethered to a stall in the Toronto police mounted unit’s barn on the grounds of the Canadian National Exhibition. Russell munched on some straw. It was police horse graduation day. The atmosphere in the barn was festive. Speeches were being made, photographs were being taken and coffee and cookies were being served.
Christine Russell wore black shoes, black pants and a white shirt decorated with butterflies. She spoke of her dead husband, the animal lover, a huge softie who would come home from a shift on the gangs unit with a stray cat he had picked up during the execution of a search warrant.
One of those cats, Corona — Ryan named her — still lives with Christine and Nolan. Nolan also likes cats, looks just like his father and is now seven. He was eyeing Russell, the Clydesdale, also seven. Russell plowed fields before he got into police work. Nolan wondered aloud how, if he climbed atop a 1,600-lb. horse, he could avoid falling off. Someone suggested holding onto the reins. The strategy worked.
In place of diplomas and gowns and caps with tassels, a graduating police horse has its forelock — its bangs — clipped, a ritual marking its passage from trainee to full- fledged four- legged cop. Nolan clipped Russell’s hair with some help from his trainer, Joel Houston. Glenn and Linda Russell have a wall in their home in Deep River, Ont., dedicated to their son’s memory. Ryan’s police dress uniforms are displayed there. Glenn plans to add a picture of Russell next, along with his forelock.
“I hope I got a good photo of him,” Glenn says.
Officer Dave Alexander is Russell’s human partner. Alexander is tall, soft- spoken and a city boy by birth. He loves dogs and cats and birds, and always had it in mind to apply for a transfer to the mounted unit. So after a stint with the gangs squad he did, a little over a year ago. Alexander admires Russell’s calm. The horse can’t talk, obviously, so the partnership relies on physical cues and trust. Russell has a calming effect on Alexander, especially when they are out on chaotic Saturday nights in Toronto’s club district and the drunks begin tumbling out of the bars.
“I might be anxious about how things are going to play out but Russell doesn’t care how they play out,” Alexander says, chuckling. “He is such a good horse.”
He has a weakness for apples and orange wedges, and enjoys “spa days” at the barn, when his partner showers and scrubs him clean. Christine has a question for Alexander: What is Russell like to work with? “He is a sweet horse, there is not a mean bone in his body,” he replies.
Christine strokes the animal’s nose.
“Ryan was the kindest, gentlest, friendliest guy I ever knew,” she says.
Nolan is getting antsy. He has had a chocolate chip cookie and some juice. Russell, the horse with the big brown eyes, is looking sleepy. He is scheduled to work the next day.
RYAN WAS THE KINDEST, GENTLEST, FRIENDLIEST GUY I EVER KNEW.