Ever notice how many television shows are built around the lives of law enforcement officers, firefighters, emergency medical technicians, and dispatchers? The flashing lights. The adrenaline. The heroic rescues. It makes for gripping drama, high ratings, and millions in advertising dollars.
But behind the uniforms and the headlines are real people carrying the weight of what they see every day. And that weight doesn’t clock out when the shift ends.
First responders are wired to run toward chaos, help strangers, and make a difference in the darkest moments of someone else’s life. But what happens when they are the ones quietly falling apart?
Most people will never fully understand the emotional toll of the job. How could they? Sometimes it takes someone who has lived it, another first responder who truly “gets it,” to make them feel seen, understood, and not alone.
In 2019, Jordan Long, a firefighter in Adams County with nine years of service under his belt, realized that his home and personal life were out of control.
“My wife started noticing the changes in me as a person. Things like having no work/life balance, being irritable all the time and emotionally detached, barely sleeping, and using unhealthy coping mechanisms. And it was getting worse,” says Jordan. “So I left that career. It’s not the job that’s the problem, it’s what the job does to every other part of your life.”
The day he decided to step aside from his job, his chief asked if he would stay on the department’s peer support team, a group of specially trained first responders who provide confidential support and resources to fellow employees navigating work and personal struggles. Over the next six months, more of his peers reached out for help than ever before, which made him realize peer support alone wasn’t enough.
That’s when Revital was born. Founded by Broomfield resident Jordan Long, the first responder support organization officially launched in September 2020.
“It starts with small, organized outings of five to ten people, all of them, including the trip leader, active or retired firefighters, dispatchers, EMTs, or law enforcement officers. We do things like fly fishing, golfing, and horseback riding, with lunch included. It gives participants a chance to relax for a while with a group of people just like them,” Jordan explains.
The cost? Free to every participant. Behind each retreat are donors, sponsors, and community partners, including organizations like Guys Who Give Broomfield, who believe first responders should never have to carry the weight of the job alone.
“Money is tight for many of these folks and can often become a barrier, or even an excuse, to not get the help they need or take care of themselves, which is why we make the outings free of charge,” adds Jordan.
Each trip leader is trained to facilitate the experience, so everyone feels comfortable and has fun. No one is prodded to share or open up about anything; it just happens naturally for most of them. Oftentimes, they hit it off with someone new and develop friendships that continue outside of Revital outings.
“The outings are just the tip of what is available at Revital, but it’s a great way to introduce them to the organization and all we have to offer,” describes Jordan.
Take the work they do with first responder spouses, for example. They face their own challenges. From the first day on the job, the long shifts and irregular sleeping patterns throw a normal schedule out the door. If they don’t have the same type of career, it’s difficult to understand the emotional roller coaster they see when their spouse is at home, leading to a disconnect with someone who is supposed to be their closest friend and partner in life.
As a Broomfield police wife, Toni Mortensen knows the stress, unpredictability, and emotional weight that often follows first responder families home. Today, as Revital’s Family and Spouse Care Coordinator, she creates outings and workshops designed specifically for spouses, helping women find support from others who truly understand their world.
“It’s so rewarding to see these women become friends and be there for each other,” she says. “Sometimes it’s as simple as, ‘Hey, can you come over for an hour and watch the kids while I take a shower and clean up? I haven’t had a free moment in three days!’”
Revital also creates women-only first-responder experiences, giving many of them the chance to relax, connect, and speak more freely after spending most of their careers working in male-dominated environments.
The bulk of the people Revital helps have between five and fifteen years of service. That age group also tends to raise families, and the strain on marriages and family life often grows heavier during those years due to financial stress and a lack of time and emotional ability to bond with their children. Revital’s couples' outings, workshops, and even retreats are great places to learn how to deal with those struggles and nurture healthy relationships.
Unfortunately, the stigma of seeing a mental health professional deters many first responders from seeking help. Law enforcement professionals tend to be especially leery, as they might be asked to turn in their service weapon, and maybe even their badge, while they seek treatment. In some departments, such things are noted in their record, which might come into play down the line. That’s one reason why Revital uses a comprehensive wellness education approach.
“It’s not just dealing with the trauma on the job. We know that relationships and finances are also a big concern. We can direct people to many different resources and keep everything confidential,” says Jordan.
Brandon, a firefighter in Thornton, describes his experience with Revital and how it saved his career, and possibly his life.
“I love being a firefighter. It’s the only career I ever wanted. But over the years, I’ve seen some terrible accidents and some of the nasty things people do, and I found myself spiraling down a dark hole. I tried to cope with it all by detaching myself from it, but I ended up losing any empathy for the people I was supposed to help,” Brandon somberly explains. “Society said I was a hero, but I sure didn’t feel that way. I was afraid I would have to quit my job to become human again, but I loved the job and didn’t have any friends outside the firehouse. I couldn’t stay working, and I couldn’t quit, and I didn’t like who I’d become. I began to think there was no way out. Thankfully, I was introduced to Revital, signed up for a fly-fishing outing with Jordan, and met some guys who were going through some of the same things I was! It was lifesaving to know that I was not alone. They directed me to some other resources that have really helped me cope with different issues. I am a work in progress, but I am very happy that I can still do the job I love.”
Brandon’s example isn’t unique. A large percentage of first responders have experienced symptoms related to mental health, along with higher rates of depression, anxiety, burnout, alcohol misuse, divorce, and sleep deprivation. Job turnover rates are alarming, so retaining healthy, experienced people is key.
That’s another critical role that Revital is playing. Many police, fire, and EMT academies around the state are asking Revital to provide wellness education to cadets and continuing education seminars to active responders throughout the year. It’s a gradual shift toward education and prevention.
“We served over 2,000 first responders last year through more than 200 outings and retreats, but we want to help more,” says Jordan.
As a charitable nonprofit, Revital Colorado exists because people in the community choose to stand behind the men and women who spend their lives standing up for others. From donors and sponsors to businesses offering outdoor experiences and retreat spaces, every act of support helps create moments of rest, healing, and connection for first responders and their families.
Whether it is championing the mission of Revital or fostering honest dialogue about the emotional health of our frontline, every gesture of support counts. The truth remains: the neighbors who run toward our darkest hours are frequently navigating their own internal struggles. These weights don’t disappear with the siren; they follow them into the quiet of their homes, shared by partners and children who bear the burden of the job. Underneath the uniform and the dispatch code is a person doing their best to stay whole. In these moments, the most impactful gift a community can offer is the assurance that no one has to stand alone.
“The weight of the job doesn’t clock out when the shift ends.”
