Tim Helder

Forged in line of duty

“In my judgment, Tim Helder is the best sheriff in Arkansas. He has built a very professional sheriff’s department. He carries out his duties and responsibilities with honesty, integrity and a high degree of intelligence. … He genuinely cares about the people who work for him and for the citizens he serves.”  — Woody Bassett about Tim Helder
“In my judgment, Tim Helder is the best sheriff in Arkansas. He has built a very professional sheriff’s department. He carries out his duties and responsibilities with honesty, integrity and a high degree of intelligence. … He genuinely cares about the people who work for him and for the citizens he serves.” — Woody Bassett about Tim Helder

I'm probably one of the few sheriffs who has ever spent time in their own jail," says Washington County Sheriff Tim Helder.

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NWA Democrat-Gazette

“If I need good Godly wisdom in my life, he’s one of the thre or four men that I will call. It’s a very short list, but he’s on that list.” — Friend Jimmy Dykes about Tim Helder

That's right. Before his 38 years in local law enforcement, Helder did a little time in the Washington County pokey himself. But it was only for about two hours and for a relatively harmless teenage peccadillo.

Through Others’ Eyes

“I’ve learned a lot from Tim Helder about the importance of consistency, which is in how he treats people every single day of his life. He has a very even, mild-mannered personality, which is why I think he thrives as a sheriff. He’s as consistent of a man that I know in my life. I think that translates over to how he does his job.” — Friend Jimmy Dykes

“In an important and sometimes intensely serious role as Sheriff, I have admired Tim’s ability to maintain perspective and calm and even an appropriate sense of humor. Beyond that he always goes back to his values-based foundation in his decision making which is very reinforcing to other members of the Washington Regional Board, our leadership team, and I’m sure, those in law enforcement as well.” W. L. Bradley, President and CEO of Washington Regional Medical Center

“He has a great desire to make sure everybody succeeds in life and whatever they do. He is such a encouraging person and coach, he wants everybody to win. He loves the good in people, and he wants to bring the good out in people. Arkansas is a fortunate state, and Washington County is a fortunate county to have him in our lives right now.” — Friend Rick Ferguson

Next Week

Melissa Fink

Springdale

"I liked to drive fast," says Helder of his high school years. "I had a Plymouth Duster, and the police chief in West Fork had stopped me, I'll bet you, six or seven times, and just said, 'You've got to slow down, people are complaining.'"

West Fork was a one-officer town at the time, Helder says, and that officer, Chief Paul Mueller, showed endless patience with him. Until one night, when he didn't.

"One day, I looked back in the rear view mirror," remembers Helder. "You know, back in those days, [police cars] had those bubble lights, and I can still see 'em." He twirls his fingers around and around, making a "wee-oh" siren sound. "I thought, 'Something tells me that I'm in trouble this time,' so I pulled over, and he did what he should have done: He said, 'Get out of the car,' and he cuffed me -- the whole works.

"He got my attention. I was a smart-aleck teenager, I was disrespectful, I deserved anything I got, and it did get me to realize that there are consequences for your behavior. I got through that, and I got rid of that fast car and ended up getting an old beater truck that wouldn't go over 55."

Tumultuous youth

This California-born son of a Los Angeles Police Department detective found himself in tiny West Fork in 1971. His father was himself the son of an LAPD officer and had retired at the rank of lieutenant after 25 years. Helder's parents had divorced when he was younger, and the roiling, tumultuous racial climate in Los Angeles throughout the 1960s and early 1970s prompted his mother and stepfather to move their family to a safer environment. Some of his Los Angeles experiences as a child were traumatic. He had witnessed the attempted murder of a neighbor as a 5-year-old and had accidentally set his head aflame while experimenting with fire and accelerants with a friend.

He was calmer in West Fork, though still active. Helder's recollections of his early years make him seem like a modern-day Tom Sawyer: smart, curious and adventurous -- with a dash of mischief. He found himself in the middle of more than a few scrapes. Helder became a latchkey kid with a lot of free time on his hands after his mother divorced his stepfather. That didn't always work out so well.

Exhibit A: The time Helder and some friends nearly caused a train derailment.

"My friend Mike Bradley was raised out on a farm, and his folks were gracious enough to let Mike hang out with me even though I was kind of a wild child," says Helder.

The Bradleys' land was dissected by a length of railroad tracks, and one day, Helder, Bradley and Bradley's younger brother happened upon a push cart, resting adjacent to the tracks.

"We thought, 'Man, wouldn't that be awesome if we could get that back on the tracks,' and we worked, I'm not kidding you, for hours. We were having to push and push, and we finally got it right up on the tracks. We stood up on it, and [then] we heard the train whistle."

It speaks well of Helder and his friends that they frantically worked until they had successfully heaved the push cart back off of the tracks, a delay that helped avoid a train accident, but put them in danger of getting caught. Once finished, they ran.

"We hear the train brakes noises, and the guys are yelling at us, and we just got down in the root system of the [West Fork] river bottom," says Helder. "They're grown men, and we're scared to death. They're yelling, 'You'd better not let us catch you, or we'll hang you,' and we're sitting down there like scared quail, you know how they do? They just sit there and shake."

Subsequently collared and given a strong talking-to by the train crew, Helder says the boys steered clear of railroad misconduct from that point forward.

Finding God and family

Would residents of West Fork have predicted that the teenage Helder would ultimately be the top cop in Washington County? Perhaps not, but many saw something in him that led them to make an investment in the young man. When friends introduced him to church, Helder says he felt that he had found a home.

"One of my buddies invited me to the Baptist Church in West Fork," he says. "That was my first exposure to religion and then, ultimately, to Christ. So then, as an early teenager, I was converted into Christianity. I knew, beyond a shadow of a doubt, that this was my deal. I served in that church for 45 years.

"And the men in that church took me to raise, you know? My [now] father-in-law was a huge influence. My coaches, the majority of them went to this church. The guys that owned the store. They just basically knew that I was a latchkey teenager and would invite me to go fishing or camping. They saw something good in me, I guess."

Helder graduated from high school and attended the University of the Arkansas, confident that he would end up teaching and coaching within the public school system. Married with a child by the age of 20 and working three jobs, the trajectory of his life changed when one of his mentors suggested he apply for a dispatch job at the Washington County Sheriff's Office.

"Within a half-hour of sitting in that chair in dispatch, I was hooked for life," he says. "I mean, it was like, 'Wow, you're going to pay me to do this?' You're exposed to the greatest people in the world. It's exciting. So August 13, 1979, was my first day in law enforcement."

Helder worked dispatch until he turned 21, when he was old enough to attend the police academy. He accepted a job as a field deputy upon graduation.

A tragic event within his first year as a deputy emphasized to him the real risks of his new profession. Paul Mueller, the officer who had helped to scare Helder straight in high school, was shot and killed in the line of duty in March of 1981.

"He and I had become great friends," says Helder. "I still have a picture of Paul holding my son in his hands before his first bath.

"He had stopped a car that somebody had pointed out to him at a service station, saying the driver was drunk. Unbeknownst to him, these two characters had just robbed a Pizza Hut on Archibald Yell, and they were cruising through West Fork. An unsuspecting Paul pulled them over on a routine traffic stop. The passenger got out of the car to distract him and when he did that, the driver jumped out and shot him -- center-punched him -- but Paul was able to get his gun out and shoot the guy that distracted him. He got another round off as the car sped away. He almost killed his murderer, basically.

"Paul was a great guy, a great friend, and was murdered in the line of duty. That changed all of us."

That same year, Helder was called to the scene of his first fatal accident. A drunk driver had crossed the center line and hit a pickup head on.

"There were two women in the truck, badly injured," he says. "They were screaming, 'Where's my baby, where's my baby?'"

The child was in an infant safety seat but was fatally injured.

"This child was 8 months old. The women were horribly injured, but neither of them were crying about themselves. These people were just minding their own business, and this guy crosses the center line, kills an infant, changes their lives forever."

His new profession not only held the joy of contributing to society, but also a great deal of sorrow and fear.

"I tell people today, in every interview I do, with law enforcement, it's not just a job," he says. "It's not just a profession. For a certain few, it's a calling, and when it's your calling, it's an unbelievable ride, because you don't even consider it work most days."

A perfect partner

Helder credits his strong faith for helping him keep the stresses and heartbreak of the job compartmentalized so that they don't take over his life. He has been consistently active in the church since high school, and even sang with a gospel group called The Gospel Echoes for 16 years.

"I think God has a plan for all of us, and nothing happens by coincidence," he says.

Helder is sure marrying his wife, Holly, was one of those events that was meant to be .

"My plan was, for a whole year -- I'm a working detective, I've got custody of my son [from his first marriage] -- 'I'm not even going to look at another woman. I'm going to get this all figured out.' And God laughs at us, I think, when we make those kinds of plans. It was just two or three months later that Holly entered my life. My son fell in love with her immediately. We had a long engagement of three months.

"I tell people that God saved my soul, Holly saved my life. She's amazing, and she's as huge a part of whatever success that I've had. She's just phenomenal."

Holly Helder says although she and Helder had known each other since childhood, the first time romance entered the picture was when she asked him to sing a duet with her at church.

"He says that's when the 'magic' happened and that I was the chaser," says Holly. "I say I just slowed down so he could catch me."

Holly was at his side when he made the transition from the Fayetteville Police Department, which he joined after a few years as a deputy with the sheriff's office, back to Washington County. He retired from the police force with the rank of deputy chief after 211/2 years.

"I was approached by then-Sheriff Steve Whitmill to be his chief deputy," says Helder. "We prayed about it, because I loved [the FPD]. But things were just lining up. It was like, 'This is what you're supposed to do.'"

The original plan was to work in the position for the current sheriff for 10 years and then retire for good. The plan fell to pieces when Whitmill unexpectedly left to take a job in corporate security in 2004.

"My world was rocked," Helder says. "I had run a campaign before, but it was for school board in West Fork. I served 15 years there, but it was nothing compared to a campaign for sheriff. So I said, 'Holly, here's the deal. We can either run for sheriff, or I can start looking for another job, because a sheriff is going to come in and bring their own chief deputy.'"

Helder has won six elections since and plans to run again in 2018, when a new state law will change the sheriff's term from two years to four.

Helder says moving into administration wasn't an easy choice. When he first started receiving promotions with the Fayetteville department, he still found working in the field exciting and rewarding.

"I had a great resource in my dad," says Helder. "I could pick up the phone and call him even though he was living in California. I was going through a rough period, where I was feeling sorry for myself -- 'Why did I take that test? Why did I need to be promoted?' I called him one night, and he said, 'Get over yourself. You need to remember what you're doing right now is you're developing young men and women to be great officers.' It changed my life and my thinking. It caused me to be much more in tune and interested in leadership."

Creating community

Leadership looks good on Helder, according to colleagues.

"He runs one of the most progressive sheriff's offices in the state ," says Col. Bill Bryant, director of the Arkansas State Police. "He is very well thought of by all the sheriffs and law enforcement officers in the state. He's willing to share his knowledge, too, and a lot of other sheriff's offices come to him because of his policy manual."

Bryant says he chose Helder to represent the western part of Arkansas during the campaign to make Arkansas part of the Gulf Coast High Intensity Drug Trafficking Area initiative.

"He is good at what he does," confirms Crawford County Sheriff Ron Brown. "He's a good leader. He leads by example."

Helder has also served as a governor's appointment on two prison reform committees, and he seems to have a special talent in forging statewide relationships that avoid the kind of territorial conflicts that sometimes plague different factions of law enforcement.

"For 12 or 13 years now, the last Friday of every month, we host a law enforcement breakfast," says Helder. "We have, on average, 35 organizations represented. It's not uncommon to have more than about 70 people sitting around the table: DEA, FBI, state police, law enforcement from Prairie Grove, Fayetteville, Springdale, Senator Boozman's office, Senator Cotton's office, Congressman Womack's office. They're all there because they've found value in the relaxed atmosphere of just sharing information and fellowship, and that has helped us to build this network of law enforcement where we're not at odds. I travel a lot, and what we have in Northwest Arkansas is unique. We all get along."

But perhaps one of the biggest indicators that he is exactly where he should be is his relationship with the young men and women who work for him. Thirty-eight years after a group of mentors helped usher a young Tim Helder to a career in law enforcement, he's doing the same for those who work for him.

"Imprinted on these challenge coins is our creed," says Helder, lightly touching a stack of shiny gold coins on his desk. "Folks put together a creed based on our guiding principles. For the last eight years or so, I've encouraged every employee to memorize that creed and come in here to recite it by memory. Then I get a half hour with them, and we talk. They can ask me personal questions, and I get to know them better. At the end of that, I present them with a coin, and I tell them, 'This is a contract. This isn't me hiring you, this isn't me paying you, this is a contract that you voluntarily stepped up for and wanted to enter into with me."

Helder can recite the creed easily, from memory.

"I pledge before God and my community to faithfully perform my duties with integrity, professionalism, respect and fairness. I will bring a good attitude to work and take responsibility for all of my actions. I will have the courage to do the right thing for the right reasons without exception."

He takes the creed to heart, say acquaintances.

"They ought to put Tim's photo in the dictionary next to the word 'integrity'," says friend Woody Bassett.

"Tim says law enforcement is his calling," says Holly Helder. "I say it has to be. There's no better explanation."

NAN Profiles on 06/25/2017

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