After 29 years, one last roll call
My husband is humble and would rather me not write about him, but he understands why I have. More than 29 years after he entered the San Antonio Police Academy, my husband, SAPD Detective/investigator Sean “P.J.” Preyor-johnson, retired.
It’s been my privilege to have a front-row seat for the last half of his career.
It was the lead physical training instructor in the academy who first called my husband “P.J.” — which is what most everyone calls him now. Since then, he’s served all over the city: East Substation, North Substation, Downtown Bike Patrol, Property Room, Special Victims Unit, Asset Seizure Unit and North Crisis Response Team.
His final roll call last week was a beautiful gathering of fellow officers, family and friends. Some honored him with heartfelt speeches. For weeks, he received calls, social
media posts, emails and gifts. He earned every bit of praise and love.
While I’ve always respected police, I feared and judged them when I was young. I used to think people became police for selfish reasons, but my husband taught me different. The overwhelming majority of police officers work to do good in the community, risking their lives to protect and serve. They have wives, husbands, children, family and friends who love them and worry about their safety.
My husband, who is Black, grew up in Brooklyn. Once, he and his friends were wrongfully detained because they fit the description of other Black teens who had been in a fight. A few years later, a pair of officers stopped him and made him unwrap Christmas presents because they suspected drugs. And there was a time an officer pulled him over to search his car just to see who was “driving in his neighborhood.”
“I didn’t like the way my neighborhood was being policed,” my husband told me.
At 25, he left his licensed stockbroker job on Wall Street to serve for a year as a New York City police officer, then resigned to join the Police Department in San Antonio, drawn to the weather and friendly people.
When I met him, he was a bicycle officer —a job he loved. When I remember those days, I imagine how my husband did bicycle tricks for my son and his daughter when they were young. I picture him in uniform, laughing, his large body balanced across the bicycle seat, his arms spread to emulate a flying Superman — a hero.
His job downtown went beyond breaking up bar fights. Once, he and another officer talked a man out of jumping from his downtown apartment. He met people from all over the world, giving them directions to the Alamo or good Mexican restaurants and always smiling for photos. Those who lived and worked downtown knew he was committed and loved him.
But worrying about his safety kept me up many nights — the stories of officers losing their lives fueling my anxiety.
My husband earned accolades and respect. Some of his most challenging cases came after his downtown bike patrol days, when he and other detectives investigated injuries to children and domestic violence cases — some we later heard about on the evening news or read about in the newspaper.
Police help victims in their most vulnerable moments and witness humanity at its worst. The hardest part? “Seeing how cruel people can be to each other. Seeing the violence,” he told me. “People hurting each other for no real reason.”
Police officers are heroes. They faithfully do the work of protecting and serving, although they don’t always get the respect they deserve. My husband tried to see the best in people, and he worked hard to help them. He enjoyed working assignments at community events, especially Fiesta, which is where we met 14 years ago.
He was emotional when he worked Fiesta this year — his final in an SAPD uniform. As he worked the parades, revelers gifted him chicken on a stick, water and breakfast tacos.
One driver was irate after a wrong-way driver created a delay as my husband directed Fiesta traffic. Pedestrians watching, Sean approached the driver’s vehicle and asked a question: “Do you need a hug?”
Pedestrians cheered and applauded. That’s my husband — using his experience, skill and wit to get the job done.
His mission of wanting to do better policing, accomplished.