“Make sure you’re keeping your eyes open to all evidence and nothing is what it first appears to be.”

That quote – from former Lake County State’s Attorney Michael Nerheim – is the hammer ending to a weekend report from the Daily Herald marking the 10-year anniversary of the death of Fox Lake police Lt. Charles Joseph Gliniewicz.

The report, available at tinyurl.com/LtJoe10years, vividly recalls the wild uncertainty of the initial developments revisited against the backdrop of the reality that eventually came to light: “It was an elaborate ruse by a well-known and, by some accounts, beloved officer who staged his own suicide to escape the outcome of a pending investigation.”

Going through personal archives reminded I didn’t write about the story for 10 weeks – because that’s how long it took for reality to emerge. But I started where everyone does: remembering the first moments.

The newspaper report talks to people like Nerheim, now a judge, as well as sheriff’s office veterans. For me, the story began when Facebook friends posted about lockdowns affecting their kids’ schools about 15 miles west of my kids’ classrooms in Gages Lake.

Hours became days. We all wondered how three suspects could simply disappear. Then, I recalled, “as days turned to weeks and officials turned inward – except for when contradicting each other in public – the nagging inklings intensified. A staged suicide seemed increasingly plausible, but the way the man received a hero’s sendoff, and how his death became a media banner, few dared reveal their suspicions.”

Long after a funeral procession including thousands of participants, Fox Lake released Gliniewicz’s personnel records. He’d been suspended for having sex with a subordinate and faced other misconduct allegations. In 1988, officers found him passed out drunk in a running truck and took him home. Later that day, with no recollection of the incident, he reported the truck stolen.

Nerheim’s quote is directed at lawyers and detectives. Fair, given his background, but the lesson applies to everyone: presented reality is not always the truth.

In 2015, I recalled how veteran copy editor Paul Carpenter taught me to, outside of direct quotes, avoid the word hero. I long assumed he developed this policy during his service in Vietnam, but the origin didn’t matter so much as the truth: acts may be heroic; humans are imperfect.

Journalists err when trusting people based solely on their job or position. News institutions must likewise earn and maintain public trust in order to preserve credibility.

The conduct and character of the person who fills a job are what make the title mean anything. We shouldn’t worship laundry – police, military, firefighters, athletes, doctors and more – or mastheads.

Trust is a virtue, but it becomes unsustainable without honesty.

• Scott T. Holland writes about state government issues for Shaw Local News Network. He can be reached at sholland@shawmedia.com.