By Ammar Mirza CBE
There are moments when the uniform stops being a uniform.
When the flashing blue lights are no longer something we pass on the road. When the court is no longer simply a building in the city centre. When our emergency services stop being institutions and become what they have always been. People. Ordinary people doing extraordinary things, often on the most difficult day of somebody else’s life.
Serving as His Majesty’s High Sheriff for Tyne and Wear has brought that reality into sharper focus for me.
The office is more than 1,000 years old and its modern role remains rooted in supporting the judiciary, police, courts, prisons, probation and emergency services. But no description can adequately explain what it feels like to see that system from the inside.
It has been a privilege. At times, it has also been incredibly sombre.
Few experiences have affected me more than attending the funeral of PC Jess Turnbull at Newcastle Cathedral.
Jess was just 19. She had joined Northumbria Police only months earlier and was responding to a road collision when she was struck by another vehicle. She died two days later, having made the ultimate sacrifice while serving her community.
What I witnessed was heartbreaking and profoundly uplifting. Officers from forces across the country standing shoulder to shoulder.
Standards lining the route. The ceremonial procession. The silence. The respect. Above all, the extraordinary strength of Jess’s family and the unmistakable power of the wider police family.
I was there simply to pay my respects.
It reminded me that behind every badge is a person and behind every person is a family who shares the risks and responsibilities that come with public service.
That same sense of quiet service was evident when visiting our courts and meeting magistrates and court staff. More than 12,000 magistrates across England and Wales give their time voluntarily, sitting for at least 13 days each year. They make difficult decisions, supported by court staff who keep our justice system moving every day.
There is little fanfare. There are rarely headlines. They simply serve.
And then came the devastating news from Middlesbrough.
In the early hours of Saturday 22 August, Cleveland Police officers PC Matthew Blades, 37, and PC Tom Clough, 38, were killed when their marked police vehicle was struck on the A66. They had gone to work to protect our communities. They did not return home.
Two more families changed forever. Two more colleagues lost. Another police family grieving.
The thin blue line is sometimes described as the line between order and disorder. To me, it represents something more human. People willing to step forward when others step back.
The police. Fire and rescue. Ambulance crews. Magistrates. Prison and probation teams. Coastguards. Volunteers. The countless people who protect, support and serve us, often without recognition and sometimes at enormous personal cost.
We notice the siren when it delays our journey. We notice the police when we need them. We notice the courts when something goes wrong.
Perhaps we should notice the people behind them far more often.
It should not take becoming a High Sheriff to recognise their contribution. It certainly should not take tragedy.
But this year has opened my eyes even wider, and while I have the privilege of this platform, I intend to use it to say something that should be said much more often.
Thank you.
Because the strongest communities are not simply those protected by a thin blue line.
They are the communities that stand alongside it.
High Sheriff of Tyne and Wear, Ammar Mirza CBE, is Chair and Founder of ABConnexions & Executive Chair of the AmmarM Group. He also serves as Honorary Colonel of the 101st (Northumbrian) Regiment Royal Artillery and holds a range of roles across the public and private sectors as a leader in inclusive innovation, investment and internationalisation.