This cop lost his leg, but he wasn’t about to take a desk job
After devastating accident, OPP officer is back on duty thanks to hi-tech prosthetic
Don’t bet against Const. Peter Tucker. When the deck was stacked against him, he beat the odds not once but twice.
The first time was in 2014. Tucker somehow survived a catastrophic motorcycle crash at 130 km/h on Hwy. 400 north of Barrie. He flatlined more than once in the hours after the crash.
The veteran Ontario Provincial Police officer was taking part in a training exercise, as part of an elite unit of the OPP that escorts VIPs and heads of state, when a Canada goose in flight smashed into his face.
His left leg was severed in the crash. His face was smashed.
Luckily, one of his fellow officers had a tourniquet in his equipment bag. Without it, Tucker would have likely bled to death at the side of the road.
Tucker spent weeks in a coma. His kidneys failed. He endured six surgeries within a 10-day period.
Eating was next to impossible. He lost 50 pounds, but not his desire to return to duty, whatever the cost. And he never wavered on that. He was determined not to let the crash define him.
Fast forward a couple of years and Tucker had kept his vow. He was back on duty with the OPP.
It was a good desk assignment doing detective work. But that wasn’t why he went into policing. He couldn’t ignore the siren call of frontline duty.
The odds were against him. He had to convince a retinue of doctors and counsellors he could handle the rigours of patrol, both physically and mentally.
“It took three years of me asking over and over for the opportunity to take the test,” he says.
“The OPP was worried about a lawsuit if something went wrong. They were worried I might get hurt. They wondered if I had PTSD (post-traumatic stress disorder). They were concerned about chronic pain. They wondered if could handle sitting in a car for an entire shift.
“I just kept badgering them. Finally, they let me try. I passed everything. A lot of it was easy. I’ve been doing it for 23 years. For the physical test, everyone has the option of riding the bike or running. I rode the bike.
“The bottom line is, I am back on patrol. I have no accommodations.”
Tucker found out he was cleared to return to the road on Nov. 13. Three days later, he reported to the Niagara detachment for his first shift.
“They thought they were protecting me,” he says. “They had the best intentions, but they kept coming up with new hurdles. I kept my mouth shut and did everything they asked. I knew it was the only way. “They wanted to know how I would react when I saw a goose. I told them I live in Port Dalhousie. I see them all the time.
“They wanted to know what would happen if I went past the spot where the accident occurred. I told them I drove by it all the time. It is on my way to headquarters.
“They thought I might have trouble talking about the accident. I told them the OPP has had me give speeches about it.”
Offered a chance to thank the people who helped him, he was worried about forgetting someone. There were so many, from fellow officers to friends and family, from doctors and nurses and physiotherapists and specialists. It is a long list.
No one is as important, however, as his wife, Michelle. They met in high school. He said he couldn’t have done it without her. She marvels at his tenacity. “I knew he was going to try to get back to work to some degree,” she says. “He was never going to just stay at home. He loved being a police officer. He wanted his gun back. He wanted to go back on the road. I think that’s where he thinks he does the most good.”
She worries about him, though. The risks are all too real.
“It isn’t abstract for me; it isn’t something that happens to somebody else,” she says. “I could tell he missed being on the road. He wants to be the first one there when somebody needs help.
“I have mixed emotions. Yes, there is some anxiety, but I am also thrilled for him.
“I really feel like I have my husband back now. It’s been a long road.”
The Ottobock Genium is what allows Tucker to continue patrolling the highways and keep the byways safe in Niagara.
The prosthetic leg he wears to work is the result of a collaboration between the U.S. military and Ottobock, a German company that’s been manufacturing prosthetics since 1919. The Genium was made to allow amputee U.S. soldiers to return to duty, and has its own micro processor.
It is built to handle stairs and obstacles, has a stumble recovery feature and is “optimized” for Tucker’s gait. It is waterproofed to the highest industry standard. Tucker swims in the ocean with it when on vacation.
“It is pretty amazing,” Tucker says. “It bends with me when I walk. My doctor can access it from a laptop.
“If I am on the uneven ground, it bends with me. When I walk, the computer lifts the ball of the foot, so I don’t trip.”
Ottobock is also renowned for its Michelangelo Hand project. The robotic hand is fully articulated, with a joint system similar to a human hand, and features an “electronically actuated thumb” that mimics natural movements of a human hand.
On Tucker’s limb, sophisticated sensors allow him to easily navigate ramps, stairs and nearly every surface.
“I think about my missing leg sometimes, but I never think about the accident,” says Tucker, who lost his leg at about the knee.
“One person out of 20 might ask if I hurt myself because on some days I have a slight limp. “When I tell them I lost my leg, they are shocked, especially when I am in full uniform and standing there.”