Passwaters: Look closely at what's in the mirror

What do you see when you look in the mirror?

This isn't really a trick question, just curiosity. If you're like most people, I suppose, you see not only what's there but what also what you either want or think you see. There are some people out there who might be heavier than they should be, or really should get a nice close shave, but when they look in the mirror, they see perfection. Other folks are nice and healthy and look good, but feel the need to go on a drastic diet to lose weight that simply isn't there.

This past week, I was reminded that you can have the same vision problem looking at other people that you may have when you look at yourself. That reminder came Tuesday evening, Sept. 21, about 1,000 miles from here, in Albany, Ga. I used to work in Albany and was the police reporter for The Albany Herald, a 25,000 or so circulation daily newspaper. During my year and change there, I got to know a good number of the officers on the Albany Police force pretty well, and one of the guys I dealt with the most was an officer by the name of Andrew Hayslip.

Hayslip was a Corporal and the APD's chief traffic investigator. He was always friendly and informative - no small feat with that department, whose administrators thought the First Amendment was a suggestion, not a requirement - and he'd help you out if you needed it. After I left Albany and came home, my girlfriend was in a small accident in the parking lot of a local restaurant. When he saw who was involved, Hayslip asked how she was doing, how I had adjusted to being back in Texas, and said he knew I would move on to bigger and better things.

And, even though she was technically at fault, Hayslip didn't write my girlfriend a ticket. She and I both thought he was a kind, classy guy. In the back of my mind, I wondered how he, like so many officers, was able to successfully deal with some of the horrible things he saw on a daily basis.

On Tuesday, Sept. 21, I found out he hadn't really been dealing with them at all.

That afternoon, Hayslip went to a daycare center in Albany and picked up his 4-year-old son, Austin. As he was leaving, his ex-girlfriend pulled up and the two began to argue. After a short verbal dispute, Hayslip pulled his service weapon, shot his ex-girlfriend, shot his son and then turned the gun on himself. The ex-girlfriend survived. Austin and his daddy died.

The footage taken by the local NBC affiliate was heartwrenching. Detectives I knew and had developed a good rapport with walked away from the scene in tears, unable to comprehend that one of their own - while still in uniform - had killed himself and his baby boy. The normal question - "Why?" - immediately was present in my mind, but the TV people had already figured it out: Hayslip was a monster.

The NBC guys knew Andrew just as well as my girlfriend and I did, and they have to know there's more to it than that. One of my colleagues in Albany, Brian Russell, wrote a fantastic story showing how Hayslip's life could have unraveled. Making less than $25,000 a year on a cop's salary, Hayslip was paying $400 a month more in child support and other expenses than he made. He had a marriage and the relationship with his girlfriend unravel, he didn't get to see his kids as much as he'd liked, and he saw death and carnage on a daily basis.

Andrew Hayslip had a problem. It was there to see, especially after he was arrested last March for hitting his ex-girlfriend and threatening her new boyfriend. His superiors - including the utterly incompetent Chief of Police, who has since been fired - took no action. They, and his co-workers, didn't see a problem. I didn't know about the arrest, as it happened before I got there and was immediately covered up, but I didn't see it either.

Maybe we didn't want to see it.

Looking at things now, once the mirror has been shattered, and it was pretty easy to tell that the good guy who helped my girlfriend out when she had a problem was on the verge of losing control. Sadly, nobody did anything. Maybe it was because nobody was close enough; maybe it was because people were too ignorant or didn't want to disrupt their regular routine by saying something that might be hurtful. Maybe folks just didn't care.

Andrew and Austin Hayslip are dead now, but maybe something can be salvaged from two wasted lives. Maybe we can look closer at the people we care about, and see the things we may not want to see. Maybe someone can have the courage to stand up, to help someone they love get the help they need. It could stop a good man from being remembered as a monster.

Take a minute. Step away from the looking glass, blink and look again. Then look around the glass and see the people around you that you love. If there's something you see that is troubling, say something. It could change a life.

It could save one, too.