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Assistance Requested

Ok, now really.
It’s cold here, unusually cold but on top of that it is “twice as cold” thanks to my antics here, I’m gonna need you guys to call....explain and well uh… tell her… Did I mention that it’s cold here?
Damn it’s cold…..
Anyways, on a more serious note and back to the poem, my wife works for the county (department of behavioral health) and her job requires working very closely with local law enforcement to help people that the police encounter with behavioral issues to get them the help they need without just throwing them in jail. The majority of people they come in contact with that have behavioral issues also have chemical dependency issue. A lot of times its alcohol, and a lot of times its drugs. And sometimes it's a mixture of the two. It seems that mental issues and substance abuse go hand in hand. She really liked your poem. She sees it everyday (as i'm sure you do too).
Thank you for relaying that information and particularly about your wife. Here is a story (%100 true) about an incident that I had the fortune/misfortune to have participated in. This was to be in my next book, but I see no harm in sharing it here. For whatever weight may be given:
As part of my duties while working as a Deputy Sheriff for Charleston County, aside from “hunting” folks, I had to do a “call-out” rotation for the “Therapeutic Transport Unit.” It was to serve as the enforcement arm for the SC Probate Court - that handled Wills, Trusts and Mental Health commitments.
Some older folks may recall cartoons of white paddy wagons and white clothed folks that show up and snatch up “crazy people.” Here, it was done in coat and tie via unmarked police cruiser.
The mental health commitments came one of two ways. One, by order of the court, whereby, someone has been deemed with a “mental health problem” and found necessary to be forcefully committed or two, by an on-site team of doctors who would respond to emergency situations (suicide attempts, drug overdoses etc..) and sign “involuntary commitment orders.”  
On one such occasion I was called out to pick up a young black woman on Wadmalaw Island. She had been deemed by the court to be “Schizophrenic with ‘acute religious’ delusions” and found necessary to be forcefully (involuntarily) committed.  
I showed up at the residence (for the internet sleuths) in Rockville, to find this woman out in the water at low tide in the pluff mud. She was there with her arms outstretched and head to the sky, singing and talking. Her family was there and were fearful because they, as well as she, could not swim.  I was dressed in nice attire and really didn’t want to go in the water, so I just called out to her. She answered and I told her that I was there to “take her to the hospital.” She acknowledged “ok” and walked right to me. She was wet and muddy when I put her in my car.
During my ride to Columbia (the state mental health facility) I asked her what she was doing in the water. “Talking to the Angels” she said. As a student of history, I was intrigued by the likes of “Joan of Arc” and such who had “visions”, and admittedly I was a “smart ass.” I asked her “what were the angels saying?” Without a bit of stutter and soundly confident she replied “Reggie, they told me not to tell you.” I was stunned. She didn’t know me, I had no name tags nor had I used a phone that might have given my name away in conversation. I would later become the “talking head” for the department on TV for “most wanted” segments, but then and there I was a “nobody.”
She never said another word during the hour and a half ride.  She hummed and smiled all the way. I was so dumbfounded that I dared not to ask any more questions. I dropped her off and that was that. It was a good ten years or so later that I ever told a soul. To this very moment it sticks to me like something I cannot in so many words describe.
Please share this with your wife.
Nice story. One of the most disturbing my wife encountered was a 10 year old standing in traffic with his arms outstretched yelling at cars to kill him. Quite disturbing that a child that young even knows what suicide is.
WarrantMan said:
Coming from a Chilihead and the angle you describe, many "thanks." That is as real as I could ever hope for. Could you say where in the world is "bag end?" Generally speaking.  It would be useful in a writing project... Obviously you are learned man...
Thanks again for your time.
"Bag End" is coming from the Madison, Wi area.  Love how this thread has evolved.  :)
Thank you for answering my first question absent any puffery. I actually posed this question to Sheriffs within my own state (the highest county law enforcement officials)  with the hopes of doing a heavy pictorial. I had just as soon as sweared during church service from the responses I got. No one wanted to acknowledge them (for PC reasons I assume) but my official duties have taken me throughout  the state and I have seen them.... Small town after small town "unemployment trees."
Thanks again and give my regards to your brother!
Talk about synchronicity.... The first "mandatory" statewide training from our police academy this year. Screen shot, you'll figure it out. Share this with your wife, she will find it curious too, it is precisely the subject matter you mentioned. Go figure...