Aurora Police Lt. Lorena Hernandez remembers the exact moment she decided to become a police officer.
It was not a good time in the life of this little girl who would grow up to be a trailblazer in her Aurora community. At age 11, she said she’d already seen her father beat her mother many times. But on this particular night, her mom, taking the corded phone from the dining room and plugging it into the bedroom, secretly called 911.
And when the police showed up, young Lorena saw the dad she always knew – intimidating, empowered, fearless, at times terrifying – change before her eyes.
“I never saw my father act the way he did … addressing the officers as “yes, sir, no sir,” Hernandez recalled. “It was eye-opening. I remember thinking I want to be a police officer.”
There was just one problem. Hernandez knew this goal was “not a possibility” because she was in this country illegally. Young Lorena was just 9 and spoke not a word of English when she and her family arrived from Mexico via a smuggling operation, she said.
Which meant that, even though she had aspirations, “it was only a dream,” because “when people live as we did, there are limits.”
Hernandez, whose promotion last month at age 43 made her the Aurora Police Department’s first female Hispanic lieutenant, agreed to share a story she is otherwise so private about because she wants other young people, especially girls, to know that barriers, even those as intimidating as her father had once been, can be overcome.
Fortunately, although it required thousands of dollars in fines, her family found a pathway to permanent residency and eventual citizenship. But not before Hernandez was accepted into the Aurora police cadet program, only to have to put that training on hold for a year in order to get those required citizenship papers.
Hernandez insisted she never gave up her dreams, in large part because she was propelled forward by watching “how my mother suffered” through so many years of abuse for the sake of her children, she said.
Mutual Ground, Aurora’s domestic violence shelter, was a constant haven, said Hernandez, the third youngest of nine children. She vividly remembers “going to testify in the courthouse,” as her mother sought an order of protection, appearing before a judge sitting “so high” above the 12-year-old child’s head, and helping with the paperwork because of her mom’s language barrier.
“I saw her struggle,” Hernandez said. “I didn’t want to mess up. I wanted to make her sacrifices worth it.”
That protective role she took on for the family obviously played into the young woman’s desire to go into law enforcement. Hernandez joined the Aurora Police Department in 2003, starting in patrol, then moving to Community Oriented Policing, which she described as “one of the best positions” in the department because of the impact that can be made on others.
“You are so connected with people and have such access to them … particularly youth,” she noted. “I know how important that was to me.”
Now that she heads the APD’s Community Oriented Policing Department, Hernandez encourages officers under her to “own their communities.”
“As public servants we are here for them … for every problem, for every triumph.”
Hernandez has been pleasantly surprised, at times overwhelmed, by the response she’s received about her historic promotion, not just from Hispanics and not only from women.
“What it means to the community has been eye-opening,” she said, also noting the words of congratulations that have come from all departments within the Aurora Police Department.
“When you hear people say it is well deserved,” she told me, “that reinforces the hard work” of 22 years.
Hernandez, who follows in the footsteps of female leaders such as Marie Blincoe, Liz Robinson-Chan and Kristen Ziman at the department, points out how lucky she’s been to have people who encouraged her. Supporters also include Deputy Chief Matt Thomas who “believed in me and would put me in charge” in places that exposed her to others in the command staff.
“You always need someone to put the spotlight on you,” she said.
Which Thomas is more than happy to do.
“Lorena’s incredible drive and determination make her an invaluable asset to both the department and the Aurora community,” he said, also noting her ability to master the tough task in this profession of balancing a personal life and career.
“She should be proud of her achievements. But I have no doubt her career is still on the rise,” he said. “Integrity and trust are essential in law enforcement and she exemplifies both. She is one of the most dependable and trustworthy individuals I know.”
Add compassionate as well.
Hernandez, now a parent herself, has forgiven her father. He was in a coma following an accident in Mexico a few years ago, which gave her a chance to say good-bye before he died. Years earlier he had apologized for his behavior, she told me, noting her dad’s own violent childhood at the hands of her grandfather.
“It was all he knew,” Hernandez said.
And it was part of the fabric that made up this young Hispanic woman’s character, a tapestry that allowed her to turn big dreams into reality.
“It is my story,” Hernandez said. ”It can be someone else’s story as well.”
dcrosby@tribpub.com
