Moscow, Idaho

W hen it comes to saying goodbye to the police department he has served for thirty-one years, Chief Fry knows better than to try to get through it live.

Instead, he sits near the front of the audience in the conference room of Moscow’s Best Western hotel, next to Julie and his kids, while the assembled guests watch him give the farewell speech he’d recorded on video a week earlier.

The raw, emotional, authentic performance would not be highly rated by his former press coach, Aaron Snell. And it’s all the better for that.

The chief’s voice cracks and he stumbles over his words as he runs through the very long list of people to thank.

“To everyone who worked the Idaho Four homicides, Idaho State Patrol, FBI, Moscow officers, Latah County prosecutors, and the Idaho attorney general’s office: You are all the unsung heroes who did and continue to do a great job because of how you did your job.

You have brought trust and respect back to the law enforcement community, to the Moscow police personnel. You truly are top-notch.”

He runs through his list: Bill Thompson; colleagues; patrol; corporals and sergeants; command; his family—his kids, his sons-in-law.

And then, finally, he gets to Julie.

“God knew I needed a strong wife,” he says, tears welling at the thought of the woman who kept his whiskey levels in check during the winter of 2022 and who has always been there for him.

He and Julie recently took the Birkman personality test, and James wasn’t shocked to discover that the colors of his personality were red (for action, energy), green (for communication), and blue (for creativity), and that Julie’s was yellow (for order).

“She completes me,” he says.

Everyone in the room knows that this isn’t farewell to James Fry so much as see you later.

Before he retired, the chief announced publicly that he would run for sheriff in November 2024.

He’ll be up against Richie Skiles, the incumbent, which is somewhat awkward because they know each other well.

This is Moscow, after all. And both men are well liked.

But if he doesn’t win that, he’ll find something to keep him in the mix.

Even so, the retirement of James Fry marks the end of an era, one in which the Moscow PD faced the most high-profile and arguably the most horrific challenge in its history.

The house at 1122 King Road may be demolished, but the people in this room bear scars that will last forever, long after Bryan Kohberger has finally faced justice, whenever and wherever that happens.

Exhibit A is Tyson Berrett, who is at the chief’s retirement party. He has already told the chief he’ll be having one of his own in July. Tyson is only fifty-two. But the stress of the demands placed on him during the winter of 2022 has taken its toll. He’s done.

Fry later said that he regretted making Tyson the point person for all four victims’ families. It was too heavy a burden for one man to bear in those ghastly six weeks between Thanksgiving and New Year’s Eve 2022.

“I should have split it up,” he said.

There’s barely a dry eye in the room at the end of the ceremony when Anthony Dahlinger hands James Fry his police radio to sign off—for the last time.

When the dispatcher utters the words, “One-oh-one is off duty for the final time,” the room is silent.

“Heavy,” says Dahlinger, the new chief, in conclusion. “Definitely, definitely a little heavy.”