Late into her 37th year in law enforcement, Mary Patterson still measures her career the same way she did when she started: by the people she’s helped. 

“I just like interacting with people. I like helping people… just having an impact and knowing my community—that’s pretty rewarding,” Patterson said. 

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A road patrol deputy with the Leelanau County Sheriff’s Office, Patterson has spent nearly four decades responding to everything from routine calls to life-threatening emergencies. But for her, the job has never been about recognition or pay. “You have to love what you do and know that you’re helping people,” she said. “You’re not going to get rich doing this job.” 

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In a small Northern Michigan community, that kind of work becomes personal. Unlike larger cities, where officers may never encounter the same person twice, Patterson has built lasting relationships with the people she serves. 

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“When you’re in a small community, it’s nice to know your community. I know a lot of people, and people know me,” she said. 

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Those relationships don’t end when her shift does. “You can take the uniform off, but you don’t ever really take the uniform off. People still know who you are,” Patterson said . Whether she’s on duty or not, the role follows her—something she’s grown used to over time. “You still have to conduct yourself professionally… people recognize you,” she added. 

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That visibility also reflects the trust she’s built. “People will ask, ‘Is Mary working? We’d like to see Mary.’ You really build bonds with your community,” she said. 

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Over the years, Patterson has seen the full spectrum of human experience. Some calls are routine, others unforgettable. “Fatal accidents, child deaths—any deaths. Those are very difficult,” she said. “You’re trying to help, and sometimes you’re not successful.” 

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But not all moments are defined by tragedy. One call that has stayed with her involved a young boy walking alone early in the morning. After making sure he was safe and reunited with his family, the situation ended on an unexpectedly light note. “He gave me a tour of his house,” Patterson recalled. 

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Experiences like that—quiet, human, and often unseen—are what have sustained her throughout her career. 

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Behind the scenes, Patterson describes law enforcement as more than a job. “You become one big family because you work together so much—you spend more time with them than your own family sometimes,” she said. That sense of connection becomes especially important as departments face ongoing staffing shortages. “If someone’s down, you pick up the slack. That’s what being a team is,” she added. 

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She has also watched with interest as the profession has changed over time. “When I started, you’d have two or three positions and 25 people applying. That’s changed,” Patterson said. Fewer people are entering the field, she explained, in part because of the realities of the job. “You’re going to have to make sacrifices— you’re going to miss holidays, family events, and weekends,” she said. “You have to know what you’re getting into.” 

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After nearly four decades on the job, Patterson doesn’t point to a single moment as her defining achievement. “Probably what I’m most proud of is being in the career and being able to handle it for so long,” she said. 

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For her, the meaning of the work comes back to something simple: connection. 

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“Law enforcement is a very rewarding career,” Patterson said. “You don’t get rich doing it, but it’s so rewarding.”