by Phil Stone

The crackle of his police radio always caused his pulse to quicken. “Chaplain 1, please call dispatch immediately!” At the other end, his heart began to pound: “10-4 dispatch.” From 1993 to 1997, Bill Goodrick heard that cryptic request some 400 times and each time he knew what it meant.

As a member of the Spokane, Washington police department, Bill’s role was to handle death notifications. It numbed him, and for a 33 year-old police chaplain, the numbing effect would extend far beyond the families he assisted through what was always a tormenting and grievous process.

He became a cop at the ripe old age of 21 when a member of the Nevada Highway Patrol dared Bill to step up. At the time, Goodrick was a mechanic for John Deere. Little did he know his life was about to undergo some serious alterations. First, he was accepted into the police academy, and upon graduation he discovered virtually all of his friends had disappeared. None wanted any part of his newfound profession.

In 1988, Bill was performing CPR in the back of an ambulance when the driver swerved to avoid a car and flipped the emergency vehicle. Bill found not only his patient, but himself, on the way to the hospital. He had suffered a non-paralyzing broken neck.

Bill’s accident was not the defining moment of his 9-year stint on that Nevada police force. He met his Lynette while on patrol. Seems she was receiving some crank phone calls, so Bill volunteered to swing by her house at night just to give her peace of mind knowing someone was out there watching over her.

Bill and Lynette soon married and then left Nevada for eastern Washington in 1993, where problems quickly began to pepper their marriage. Remember all those death notifications Bill was responsible for making?

It didn’t take long before Lynette and their children began feeling abandoned by a husband and chaplain who found all the time in the world to embrace others in their time of need, but by the time he got home, his tank was empty.

In 1998, Bill Goodrick, husband, father and police chaplain, found himself alone. His wife and kids were gone. Their home was gone. Everything familiar was lost. “I thought I was doing things God’s way but learned that I was so far away from what the Lord truly wanted from me,” Bill said.

And exactly what did Jesus want from him? “I was seen as a hero to those I worked with but neither my wife nor my children thought of me as a hero, and I didn’t see that until it was too late,” laments Goodrick.

This Ambassador for Promise Keepers, this church going chaplain, this hero to hundreds in eastern Washington, is now a bonafide hero to Lynette and his three adult children. God has restored his marriage in a most powerful way. Today Bill is no longer on the police force. He provides chaplain services to secular companies in and around Spokane.

Last month, Goodrick encouraged, exhorted, and even threatened (in a Christian way) more than 30 business leaders to meet CBMC Executive Director Patrick O’Neal for lunch in Spokane in an effort to ignite a new chapter there. “Ya know, I was really disappointed that I only got 33 men to commit,” groused Bill. The gathering was electrifying as surprisingly 42 men turned out to see how God was at work in the great Northwest.

Today the Goodrick family is reveling in the life God has blessed them with and now when Bill hears, “Chaplain 1, please call dispatch immediately,” he smiles and calls Lynette, never forgetting where he’s been in this life and always remembering who restored his marriage and his family. Now when Bill asks, “Am I doing things God’s way,” the response is simply this: “10-4 Bill, 10-4.”