BARKSDALE AIR FORCE BASE, La. -- The call came in quickly, the kind that demanded an immediate response.
Within moments, Master Sgt. Jaimie Farmer, a Dallas police officer and Air Force reservist with the 307th Security Forces Squadron, found himself in the middle of a firefight.
When the shooting stopped, all three officers at the scene had sacrificed something that night. Farmer himself had been hit, the wound leaving not only physical pain but a lasting reminder of the cost of service.
When all three arrived at the hospital, one was pronounced stable, one blind and one dead.
That was one year ago.
Today, Farmer isn’t defined by that night, but by the journey that followed. It has been a year of healing, reflection and determination — a year of resiliency and integrity.
Farmer doesn’t dwell on every detail of the incident, though he remembers enough to know how quickly it unfolded.
“I was logging into my drone, heard something unusual on the radio, and instinct kicked in,” he said. “When I arrived at the scene, I saw the situation unfolding, but it was too late; I was already in the midst of chaos.”
That unusual transmission was a groan from Officer Darron Burks. Farmer knew something had gone wrong at that moment, yet he still chose to respond to the scene.
What followed was a blur.
“When I got to the scene, I jumped out of my vehicle, drew my weapon and yelled for the suspect to drop his gun,” Farmer said. “Before I knew it, I felt a slap on my leg and instantly knew I’d been hit.”
Corporal Karissa David arrived shortly after and was struck in the face.
The days that followed tested Farmer in ways no training could have prepared him for. Physical recovery from his leg wound demanded time, patience and determination. Emotional recovery was harder. The replaying of that night in his mind and the responsibility of moving forward all weighed heavily.
“I had somewhat of a fleeting moment of hesitation about whether or not I wanted to continue to do this,” Farmer said. “Survivor’s guilt. I’m here and he’s not, she can’t see. It’s not my fault, but it still hurts.”
That bond — forged through shared service, whether in a patrol car or in uniform with the Air Force — became the foundation of Farmer’s healing. He leaned on his fellow officers, his Reserve unit and his family. Together, they reminded him that his story wasn’t over, even if Burks’s life had been cut short.
“I remember him calling me up and wanting to come back immediately,” said Master Sgt. Timothy Ferraro, 307th Security Forces combat arms section chief. “When he did return, he expected no sympathy. He never skipped a beat, as if what happened hadn’t just happened.”
Resilience, Farmer explained, isn’t just about private recovery. It’s about showing up, bearing witness and honoring those who didn’t make it home.
That’s why in May 2025, just eight months after the night of the incident, he participated in the Police Unity Tour Ride-In and Ceremony, a 250-mile biking journey from Norfolk, Virginia, to the National Law Enforcement Officers Memorial in Washington, D.C., in honor of 345 fallen officers. Standing at the memorial after the three-day journey, Farmer joined fellow officers and families of the fallen to pay tribute.
“The best way I can honor Burks and David is by living the values we believed in,” Farmer said. “Events like this remind me that their sacrifice — and the sacrifice of so many others — will never be forgotten.”
For Farmer, resilience became more than a concept taught in briefings or discussed in classrooms. It became his lifeline.
“Resilience is about pushing through pain, whether it’s physical wounds or emotional scars,” he said. “You can’t let one bad night define you or your career.”
Resilience didn’t mean ignoring what had happened. Farmer said it meant acknowledging it, seeking help, talking to others and refusing to let tragedy be the final word.
“You need to do what it takes to recover and keep moving forward,” he said. “Talk to people, don’t be afraid to seek help. It’s vital to find the silver lining, particularly when faced with adversity.”
Over the course of the year, Farmer said he found those silver linings. Some were small — being able to walk without a limp, returning to normal duties, feeling the support of his community.
Others were larger — the chance to tell his story, to inspire younger Airmen and to ensure Burks’s legacy lived on.
Farmer’s life straddles two worlds: policing the streets of Dallas and serving with the 307th SFS. At first glance, the uniforms look different. But for Farmer, they are threads of the same fabric.
“Being a cop or a military member isn’t just about the uniform; it’s about being there for others,” he said.
Farmer said tragedy reminded him that whether he is protecting his city or preparing to deploy, the mission is the same: to serve with resilience, to act with integrity and to honor those who have gone before.
Farmer said integrity was not an abstract idea that night. It was the very thing that compelled him into action.
That commitment didn’t end when the shots stopped. Integrity became part of his recovery as well. It meant being honest about the grief he carried, acknowledging when he needed help and staying true to his values even when the easier path would have been to step away.
“You must embrace the challenges that come with the job, while always pushing to do better,” he said.
As the one-year mark approached, Farmer began using his story to mentor others. He said he understands that not every Airman or officer will face a firefight, but every one of them will face hardship.
“Talk to people and share your struggles,” he said. “Don’t pretend you’re unbreakable — because no one is. But also don’t forget that every time you get back up, you’re showing what it means to be mission ready.”
Farmer’s story is not only about one night in Dallas. It is about the long road back — the setbacks, the breakthroughs and the daily choice to remain resilient and mission ready. It stands as a reminder to every Airman that staying mission ready isn’t just about the battlefield or the flight line.
It is about the ability to stand up after tragedy, carry scars with honor and keep serving despite the weight of loss.
“Life is fragile, and it can change in an instant,” he said. “But it’s how we respond to those challenges that truly defines us.”
The call came in quickly, the kind that demanded an immediate response.
Within moments, Master Sgt. Jaimie Farmer, a Dallas police officer and Air Force reservist with the 307th Security Forces Squadron, found himself in the middle of a firefight.
When the shooting stopped, all three officers at the scene had sacrificed something that night. Farmer himself had been hit, the wound leaving not only physical pain but a lasting reminder of the cost of service.
When all three arrived at the hospital, one was pronounced stable, one blind and one dead.
That was one year ago.
Today, Farmer isn’t defined by that night, but by the journey that followed. It has been a year of healing, reflection and determination — a year of resiliency and integrity.
Farmer doesn’t dwell on every detail of the incident, though he remembers enough to know how quickly it unfolded.
“I was logging into my drone, heard something unusual on the radio, and instinct kicked in,” he said. “When I arrived at the scene, I saw the situation unfolding, but it was too late; I was already in the midst of chaos.”
That unusual transmission was a groan from Officer Darron Burks. Farmer knew something had gone wrong at that moment, yet he still chose to respond to the scene.
What followed was a blur.
“When I got to the scene, I jumped out of my vehicle, drew my weapon and yelled for the suspect to drop his gun,” Farmer said. “Before I knew it, I felt a slap on my leg and instantly knew I’d been hit.”
Corporal Karissa David arrived shortly after and was struck in the face.
The days that followed tested Farmer in ways no training could have prepared him for. Physical recovery from his leg wound demanded time, patience and determination. Emotional recovery was harder. The replaying of that night in his mind and the responsibility of moving forward all weighed heavily.
“I had somewhat of a fleeting moment of hesitation about whether or not I wanted to continue to do this,” Farmer said. “Survivor’s guilt. I’m here and he’s not, she can’t see. It’s not my fault, but it still hurts.”
That bond — forged through shared service, whether in a patrol car or in uniform with the Air Force — became the foundation of Farmer’s healing. He leaned on his fellow officers, his Reserve unit and his family. Together, they reminded him that his story wasn’t over, even if Burks’s life had been cut short.
“I remember him calling me up and wanting to come back immediately,” said Master Sgt. Timothy Ferraro, 307th Security Forces combat arms section chief. “When he did return, he expected no sympathy. He never skipped a beat, as if what happened hadn’t just happened.”
Resilience, Farmer explained, isn’t just about private recovery. It’s about showing up, bearing witness and honoring those who didn’t make it home.
That’s why in May 2025, just eight months after the night of the incident, he participated in the Police Unity Tour Ride-In and Ceremony, a 250-mile biking journey from Norfolk, Virginia, to the National Law Enforcement Officers Memorial in Washington, D.C., in honor of 345 fallen officers. Standing at the memorial after the three-day journey, Farmer joined fellow officers and families of the fallen to pay tribute.
“The best way I can honor Burks and David is by living the values we believed in,” Farmer said. “Events like this remind me that their sacrifice — and the sacrifice of so many others — will never be forgotten.”
For Farmer, resilience became more than a concept taught in briefings or discussed in classrooms. It became his lifeline.
“Resilience is about pushing through pain, whether it’s physical wounds or emotional scars,” he said. “You can’t let one bad night define you or your career.”
Resilience didn’t mean ignoring what had happened. Farmer said it meant acknowledging it, seeking help, talking to others and refusing to let tragedy be the final word.
“You need to do what it takes to recover and keep moving forward,” he said. “Talk to people, don’t be afraid to seek help. It’s vital to find the silver lining, particularly when faced with adversity.”
Over the course of the year, Farmer said he found those silver linings. Some were small — being able to walk without a limp, returning to normal duties, feeling the support of his community.
Others were larger — the chance to tell his story, to inspire younger Airmen and to ensure Burks’s legacy lived on.
Farmer’s life straddles two worlds: policing the streets of Dallas and serving with the 307th SFS. At first glance, the uniforms look different. But for Farmer, they are threads of the same fabric.
“Being a cop or a military member isn’t just about the uniform; it’s about being there for others,” he said.
Farmer said tragedy reminded him that whether he is protecting his city or preparing to deploy, the mission is the same: to serve with resilience, to act with integrity and to honor those who have gone before.
Farmer said integrity was not an abstract idea that night. It was the very thing that compelled him into action.
That commitment didn’t end when the shots stopped. Integrity became part of his recovery as well. It meant being honest about the grief he carried, acknowledging when he needed help and staying true to his values even when the easier path would have been to step away.
“You must embrace the challenges that come with the job, while always pushing to do better,” he said.
As the one-year mark approached, Farmer began using his story to mentor others. He said he understands that not every Airman or officer will face a firefight, but every one of them will face hardship.
“Talk to people and share your struggles,” he said. “Don’t pretend you’re unbreakable — because no one is. But also don’t forget that every time you get back up, you’re showing what it means to be mission ready.”
Farmer’s story is not only about one night in Dallas. It is about the long road back — the setbacks, the breakthroughs and the daily choice to remain resilient and mission ready. It stands as a reminder to every Airman that staying mission ready isn’t just about the battlefield or the flight line.
It is about the ability to stand up after tragedy, carry scars with honor and keep serving despite the weight of loss.
“Life is fragile, and it can change in an instant,” he said. “But it’s how we respond to those challenges that truly defines us.”