Long Island widow speaks out against mental health stigma after retired NYPD officer’s suicide

Tall, muscular and gregarious, Joe Modlin filled a room when he entered it.

The Commack native relished his role as an NYPD police officer, car enthusiast and, most of all, husband and “girl dad” to his young daughters Sarah and Emily.

“If something was going on, because of his size and demeanor, he was the person you went to,” said his wife, Karen. “He loved being that person.”

And when Joe Modlin felt he could no longer be that person, he was lost.

He survived a difficult open-heart surgery and a challenging recovery, forcing him to leave the job he loved early. It started a yearslong spiral of anxiety, depression and eventually, paranoia, that led Modlin to take his own life in December 2023 at the age of 54.

The loss shattered his family and friends. But it also left his widow Karen Modlin determined to break the stigma around mental illness for police officers so others in law enforcement will feel more comfortable seeking help.

“Joe had a disease, he was sick and didn’t get the help he needed in time,” said Karen, 47, a nurse.

Nassau County Police Benevolent Association president Tommy Shevlin, who has advocated for confidential peer counselors and other mental health services for police officers, said some fear asking for help because they will be viewed as “broken” or lose the respect of their colleagues.

“You are viewed as the superhero, the person who everyone looks to in their worst time for help,” Shevlin said. “So when it’s you that actually needs help you really don’t know how to handle that.”

Since Jan. 1, five law enforcement officers have killed themselves in the state of New York, according to Blue H.E.L.P., a nonprofit group that focuses on reducing mental health stigma. Two were Nassau County police officers.

In 2024, there were 13 law enforcement suicides in the state, including two Suffolk County police officers.

Law enforcement members were 54% more likely to die of suicide than the general public, a 2020 study in the journal Policing found.

Studies have shown that police officers are more likely to die from suicide than being killed in the line of duty. And experts say some suicides are never reported, so the numbers are probably higher.

Another reason police officers may be reluctant to reach out is because they don’t know what will happen with their job if they do, said Suffolk County Police Benevolent Association president Lou Civello.

“What’s the road map to being healthy again?” he said. “What treatment do I need to seek? What guarantees do I have that I’m ever going to be put back to work and that I’m ever going to return to my normal life again?”

Both Shevlin and Civello support a bill in the State Legislature that would create a confidential network of trained officers to help their peers with grief, stress and other issues.

Fear for your job, battling perception

Joe Modlin grew up in Commack playing baseball and nurturing his obsession with cars — from remote control ones to Jeeps, Ford Mustangs, Dodge Chargers and Challengers.

Karen also grew up in Commack, but the two didn’t meet until friends introduced them in 2004. They married and had two daughters. Joe doted over them.

The three spent a lot of time outside, playing in the pool and working in the garden at their Commack home. “Whatever he was doing, they were doing,” she said.

Karen laughed at the memory of the 6-foot-2, 270-pound man sitting with his little girls as they painted his nails and put clips in his hair.

Things started to change when Joe found out he needed open-heart surgery.

“He definitely developed some anxiety issues then, and I kept telling him to go talk to somebody,” Karen said. “But he would say ‘I’m not crazy,’ ‘They are going to psych me off the job,’ ” meaning he would be fired for not being psychologically fit for duty.

Joe also repeatedly told his wife, “I’m not an EDP,” police lingo for an emotionally disturbed person.

That perception of mental illness is what may be stopping police officers from being open to counseling and medication.

“Cops bring people to psychiatric emergency rooms all the time and they are not pleasant places to be,” said Stephen Wakschal, lead psychologist at Northwell Health’s Finest Care program, which provides mental health services to uniformed members of the NYPD. “If they think they need help, they start to envision themselves in that role of the person they just brought there.”

Northwell’s program for NYPD officers provides five free counseling sessions with therapists who have been specially trained to work with law enforcement professionals. Even though the program is funded by the NYPD, officers do not need to submit insurance forms or paperwork that will get back to the department.

Wakschal also conducts training sessions at the NYPD academy, police range and other places, encouraging officers to check on their colleagues.

“We say if you want to know what a suicidal person looks like, just look to the person to your left and look at the person to your right,” he said. “They are excellent at suicide camouflage.”

Struggling after retirement

Joe’s open-heart surgery was difficult — he ended up on life support for four days — and the recovery was slow. He was able to return to work at the 114th Precinct in Queens for a time, but those health issues kept him on limited-duty assignments that would not require him to go out on patrol.

He retired in 2010, about a decade after he joined the force.

“He didn’t know who he was. He didn’t have that identity anymore,” Karen recalled.

He eventually got jobs overseeing security at South Oaks Hospital and Zucker Hillside Hospital. Being with other retired cops brought back the joy and camaraderie he felt at the NYPD. But he still worked hard to deny the anxiety and depression he wrestled with on a daily basis. Karen continued asking Joe to seek help, but he refused.

The energy he spent hiding his symptoms left him physically and emotionally drained as well as short-tempered, Karen said. When he finally did meet with therapists and went on medication, he tried hard to keep it from all but a few close friends.

“He worried about what everyone would think and say,” she said. “Some people did stop coming by and calling. I saw people distancing themselves.”

Joe continued to be agitated and began to exhibit signs of paranoia, convinced everyone was out to get him and his family, Karen recalled. He was convinced if he “disappeared,” his wife and children would be safe.

“Joe wasn’t crazy — he was sick, and it cost him everything,” Karen said. “I’m not blaming anyone, but if he was not so worried about perception, he may have been able to get help sooner.”

On Sunday, Karen Modlin, Wakschal and others will speak at the ninth annual Cars and Guitars, a classic car show at Miller’s Ale House in Commack. It’s a fundraiser to benefit Hope For The Warriors, which provides programs and services for members of the military and their families. They will talk about the importance of shattering the stigma around mental illness.

“There have to be 100 more cops struggling silently like Joe,” she said. “Something has to be done.”

Lisa joined Newsday as a staff writer in 2019. She previously worked at amNewYork, the New York Daily News and the Asbury Park Press covering politics, government and general assignment.