[Congressional Record Volume 162, Number 90 (Wednesday, June 8, 2016)]
[Senate]
[Pages S3640-S3641]
From the Congressional Record Online through the Government Publishing Office [www.gpo.gov]




   TRIBUTE TO ANNE GRIFFITH AND RECOGNIZING MAINE'S LAW ENFORCEMENT 
                               COMMUNITY

 Mr. KING. Mr. President, this past May, members of Maine's law 
enforcement community gathered with the members of the public at Mount 
Hope Cemetery in Augusta to honor the more than 80 officers who have 
given their lives in the line of duty.
  In Maine, where we have more than 2,000 sworn police officers, this 
ceremony is both a longstanding and cherished tradition, and this year 
represented the 25th consecutive time that the Maine Chiefs of Police 
Association and the Maine Sheriffs Association

[[Page S3641]]

have come together in commemoration of their fallen brethren.
  But for one person, this year's ceremony also marked a different 
anniversary.
  Anne Griffith, whom many of us know more affectionately as Woolie, 
was just 3 years old when on April 15, 1996, her father, Maine State 
trooper James ``Drew'' Griffith, was killed in a car accident while 
pursuing a speeding vehicle. I first met Woolie in the days that 
followed--at her father's funeral, as she endured an experience that no 
child should have to and as I, then Governor, attempted to convey the 
deep gratitude of a State that mourned alongside her.
  She was strong then, just as she is strong now. Woolie is now 25 
years old, and this year marks two decades since her father's death--
and in that time, she has grown into a wonderful young woman--raised by 
her mother, Maine Warden Chaplain Kate Braestrup.
  In a remarkable testament to her fortitude and strength of character, 
Woolie several years ago made the conscious decision to follow in her 
father's footsteps by entering the ranks of the Maine State police. 
Today, she serves as an investigative analyst for the Maine State 
Police Computer Crimes Unit, donning the same blue uniform once worn so 
proudly by her father; surrounded by many of the same dedicated public 
servants who stood beside him years ago.
  Woolie spoke at the Maine Law Enforcement Officers Memorial Service 
in May. Her words were a powerful tribute to the law enforcement 
community, not only because they speak so well to their constant and 
ever-present work and vigilance to keep us safe, but also because they 
so aptly capture the unfailing love and kindness that too often is 
overlooked today.
  I deeply hope that future generations of Americans may look at her 
father's life, his legacy, and her tribute to him and to the law 
enforcement community and come to more deeply understand and appreciate 
the sacrifices of those who protect us every day.
  Mr. President, I ask that Anne Griffith's remarks at the Maine Law 
Enforcement Officers Memorial Service on May 19, 2016, be printed in 
the Record.
  The material follows:

                             [May 19, 2016]

                   Good Hope Cemetery--Augusta, Maine

                           (By Anne Griffith)

       Good morning,
       My name is Anne Griffith. I am the youngest of four 
     children of Maine Warden Chaplain Kate Braestrup and fallen 
     Maine State Trooper Drew Griffith.
       It is a privilege to stand with you, and honor my father 
     today. On behalf of the families of the fallen, I thank you 
     all for being here.
       As the youngest of Drew's children, I was three years old 
     when my dad died, too young to form clear memories.
       I did not have much of a chance to experience him as a 
     father, and my memories of him are vague and uncertain.
       What I had, growing up, were stories--stories of his 
     intelligence, his kindness, and his humor--told to me by 
     those who had known him well: my mother, and my siblings of 
     course, my family . . . and my blue family, too. Law 
     enforcement officers who worked with Dad supported us, shared 
     our sadness and kept us close over the years, caring for him 
     by caring for us. They, too, gave me my father in stories.
       And so, two decades later I am still a part of that blue 
     family.
       In 2014 I worked as a Reserve Patrol Officer. During this 
     time, I thought often of my dad. I got a glimpse of him--his 
     sorrows and satisfactions--through performing the tasks that 
     he performed; I placed handcuffs on offenders while they 
     fought me.
       I performed CPR on two victims . . . and could not save 
     them.
       I helped in preventing the suicide of a mentally ill woman.
       For the past year, I have worked as an Investigative 
     Analyst for the Computer Crimes Unit. During this time I have 
     assisted in a variety of cases from child pornography 
     possession to child molestation offenses.
       Because of the nature of my work for the Unit, I can 
     definitively point to particular cases and know for certain 
     that I made a difference in the outcome of the investigation. 
     There is a satisfaction in this that my father felt . . . and 
     I have felt it, too.
       I know there is no greater sense of honor and purpose than 
     participating in the protection of innocent human lives. This 
     is what my father died doing.
       Besides working with an incredible team, I am fortunate to 
     work closely with those who knew and loved my father--Lt. 
     Glenn Lang who helped to carry his casket, Sgt. Laurie 
     Northrup who once told me her last conversation with my dad 
     was of how much he loved his wife and children; Computer 
     Analyst Andrea Donovan, who worked as a State Police 
     Dispatcher and heard my Dad sign on 10-8, and sign off 10-7.
       I am able to know my father through them, just as they are 
     able to know him through me.
       April 15, 2016 marked the 20th Anniversary of my father's 
     line of duty death.
       To mark the day, I went for a run.
       A sergeant of the Maine State Police K9 Unit, and a 
     recently graduated State Trooper ran with me, in the area 
     where I grew up--and Dad's patrol area.
       We ended up at Marshall Point Lighthouse in Port Clyde, 
     where a bench dedicated in my father's name is placed. The 
     sky was clear blue and the air was crisp with salt from the 
     nearby ocean.
       Neither the sergeant nor the brand-new trooper had ever 
     shaken my father's hand, or laughed at his jokes. Still, they 
     are his family, they are his brothers. They ran with him by 
     running with me.
       The law enforcement family is large; it crosses state lines 
     and international borders. Though my siblings and I lost our 
     father, we did not lose our connection to his legacy, nor the 
     family he became a part of when he joined the Maine State 
     Police in 1986. I know who my father was because I know you--
     his brothers and sisters in uniform, intelligent, good-
     humored and kind--who continue to serve and protect the 
     people of Maine and of the United States. In honoring my 
     father today, I honor you.
       Thank you.

                          ____________________