By Chris Homen
Throughout my career, I have worked with some of the most experienced and dedicated drug interdiction officers in the Texas Panhandle. These specialists — from troopers to deputies and officers in local municipalities—share a deep commitment to their work. A common saying among these officers is the importance of always looking “beyond the stop.” This philosophy fuels their commitment to ensuring that every interaction goes above and beyond.
It’s easy to get lost in the rhythm of stops and citations and move on to the next call on the highway. However, drug interdiction officers have learned to evolve their instincts and recognize the subtle indicators that reveal something more significant happening beneath the surface. The slightest hesitation in a driver’s reaction, the over-the-top travel plans, the abnormal calmness — these are the little things that tell a story. They know that criminals don’t advertise themselves with neon signs. Rather, they hide in plain sight, hoping that the officer will go through the motions and leave. However, the best interdiction officers don’t just stop at the initial traffic stop. They go deeper and study the individual they are speaking with. They stay curious. They trust their training, knowledge, and sometimes just that gut feeling that something isn’t right. And more often than not, they’re correct.
I’ve worked with officers who pulled over what seemed like just another car. However, they were able to discover massive drug loads, money loads, human trafficking victims, or criminals trying to avoid and escape the law. Their success isn’t chance or a random act of luck. It results from persistent dedication, countless hours of training and a relentless commitment to upholding community safety. They don’t just write tickets and give warnings. They change lives — one stop at a time. That’s why looking beyond the stop is more than an expression; it’s a philosophy.
A shift in perspective: Beyond drug interdiction
When you first read the title of this article, you likely assumed it was about drug interdiction. I understand why you would think so. That’s where the phrase is most commonly used. But I want to transform it into something else. I don’t want to just talk about finding drugs, making arrests, or chasing criminals — I want to talk about people and getting past the surface.
Looking beyond the stop isn’t just about catching and chasing criminals. It’s about seeing the person sitting in that driver’s seat, understanding their story and recognizing their struggles. These can come in many different forms. It could be the single mom working two jobs, barely holding it together, knowing that one flat tire or missed paycheck could ruin everything. It could be the young man driving with a shattered look in his eyes because he just buried his mom, his dad, sister, brother, or wife. What if it was the older woman down the street who was confused and lost, unsure how she got on this road?
All of these scenarios could have something in common — and that something is the fact that they are battling an internal struggle that no one knows about, or wants to, or will try to help with.
I’ve seen officers stop someone for a minor traffic violation and end up helping them find a shelter for the night. I’ve watched officers buy food for someone who hadn’t eaten in days. I’ve seen law enforcement professionals sit on the curb with someone having the worst day of their life and listen. Not because they had to. Not because it was protocol. But because they cared. I will be the first to admit that I haven’t always been as proactive in situations like these, but learning and growing with the times has shown me — and equipped me with — new tools that I can use at any moment.
When we take the time to see people and look beyond the stop, we realize that our job isn’t just about law enforcement. It’s about public service. It’s about community. It’s about ensuring we’ve left something better than we found when we drive away.
Mental illness and social struggles
Mental illness and hardship don’t discriminate. They don’t care about your job title, how much money you make, or what kind of car you drive. They sneak up, unravel lives and often leave people without a clear way forward. And unfortunately, for many, law enforcement ends up being the first — and only — line of response.
Too often, people say, “They chose that life.” But I ask — did they? Did the young woman struggling with schizophrenia choose to be misunderstood and feared? Did the veteran suffering from PTSD choose to be deserted by the very system that promised to take care of him? Did the man who lost his job, his insurance, and his ability to afford his medication choose to be pushed onto the streets?
No. They didn’t choose to be where they are — but that’s the story our culture likes to push, because it makes it easier to disregard. It’s easier to walk past. It’s easier to pretend it’s not our problem. But here’s the thing: if we don’t rise to the challenge, prepare to recognize the signs, and take the time to understand them, we’re failing them — along with ourselves.
Law enforcement officers are not social workers. We’re not mental health professionals. But we are the first ones there, so we must be prepared and ready to handle whatever comes our way. We need to recognize when someone isn’t just defiant but is in crisis. We must know when an aggressive stance isn’t about resistance, but fear. We must close the gap that the person in crisis struggles with and locate the resources to help them.
The role of Crisis Intervention Training (CIT)
This is where Crisis Intervention Training (CIT) comes in. Let me be clear: this isn’t just another checkbox on a training list. This is one of the most critical tools an officer can have. CIT teaches officers how to de-escalate situations involving individuals with mental illness. Officers learn how to approach someone in crisis without making things worse. It teaches us that sometimes, the best course of action isn’t an arrest — but a referral to a crisis unit, a call to a mental health professional, or just taking the time to listen.
An old-school mindset sees this kind of training as soft and unnecessary. But I challenge that. What’s more rigid — using force to end a situation, or having the skills to resolve it without force? Escalating a crisis, or knowing how to defuse it? What’s more effective? Processing someone through the system repeatedly, or finding a way to help them?
True strength isn’t about how aggressive you can be, if you ask me. It’s about how much control you have. It’s about knowing when to act — and when to step back. That’s what CIT gives us.
I say all these things because this is the time we live in. The increase in mental health crises will continue as society changes. Why? Because as society grows, so will technologies. More drugs will be available to settle the new cravings that users have. As law enforcement, we need to be ahead of the game and ready to adapt and overcome.
Final reminder: Go home and go whole
No matter how much you give or how much weight you carry, you must remember this: you need to go home. You need to go home to the people who love you — to the ones who make you whole — because you can’t help others if you’re falling apart yourself. Officer safety should always be the primary objective when dealing with anyone. The training we receive and the new methodologies we learn aren’t to limit you from using whatever means to keep yourself safe, but to assist you in using our core strength — our words.
It’s easy to get caught up in the job. It’s easy to carry every tragedy, every moment of helplessness, and every heartbreaking situation home with you. But you have to take care of yourself. Making a difference doesn’t just start with the people we serve. It begins with us.
Look beyond the stop. But don’t forget to look after yourself, too.
About the author
Chris Homen has devoted his career to public safety and community service, bringing extensive experience in law enforcement and school safety. A resident of Groom, Texas, he grew up in an agricultural family, which instilled in him a strong work ethic and core values. He earned his Bachelor’s degree from West Texas A&M University.
Chris launched his law enforcement career after graduating from the Panhandle Regional Law Enforcement Academy. He served as a Deputy Sheriff with the Gray County and Roberts County Sheriff’s Offices, gaining hands-on experience in rural law enforcement. His passion for protecting communities led him to become a School Resource Officer (SRO) for Miami ISD, where he worked to ensure a safe and supportive learning environment.
Chris holds a TCOLE Advanced Peace Officer Certification and a Master School-Based Law Enforcement Certification. He continues his dedication to school safety as a Safe and Supportive Schools Specialist at Region 16 Education Service Center. In this role, he collaborates with school districts to develop and implement strategies that promote safe, positive learning environments, ensuring students and staff feel secure and supported.
