Officer Spencer Morrissey walks into Byron schools each morning, but it’s not the badge or the uniform that students notice first. It’s the warmth of his greetings, the steady rhythm of his presence, and the sense of trust he builds with every fist bump and smile. For Byron’s new School Resource Officer, safety is only the starting point. What drives him is connection.

Spencer didn’t grow up in Byron. His roots are in Amboy, a small town about 40 minutes south, where he graduated with a class of 82 students in 2009. “It was a town of 2,500 people, and now it’s even smaller,” he reflected. Like many rural schools, Amboy eventually shifted to eight-man football just to keep the program alive. Byron, though, was different. Families were moving in, enrollment was steady, and opportunities for kids were abundant. “This is the greatest opportunity for my family to be in a place like this with everything we have going on,” he said.

That opportunity began when Spencer met his wife, Carissa, a proud Byron alumna from the Class of 2009. The two crossed paths while working with youth in a residential probation program. “I never thought I’d leave Amboy,” Spencer said, “but you go where the boss tells you to go.” Together they built a family that now includes three children—Brenner, a fourth grader; Georgia, a second grader; and Mila, a preschooler. Their fourth child, Mya, passed away in July of 2024 at just two and a half  months old.

The Morrisseys’ loss could have broken them, but in Byron, they found a community that lifted them up. “This community has been a godsend,” Spencer said. “Kids wear bracelets with Mya’s name, Byron football shirts carry the Maya heart logo, and even my son’s flag football team has it stitched on their sleeves. The support we’ve had in our darkest time has been like a sign from heaven.”

It was in the wake of that tragedy that Spencer began to reevaluate his career. At the time, he had just been promoted to sergeant with the Byron Police Department. But the long nights and weekends wore against his need to be present with his family. The SRO role offered a way forward: steady hours, time at home, and a chance to serve in a role that fused his law enforcement skills with his love for kids. “This wasn’t the plan,” he admitted. “But things changed. I needed to be home at night. And this has been the best job in law enforcement I could have.”

Spencer’s days start early—usually around 5:20 a.m. in the weight room before the first bell. By 7:15 he’s greeting students at the high school, though he makes a point to rotate through the middle school and Mary Morgan Elementary. “One of the best compliments I’ve gotten is, ‘You’re everywhere,’” he said with a laugh. “I don’t want anyone to see me as part of a routine. I want them to see me as present.”

For him, presence is about more than being visible. It’s about trust. “The number one tool we have here is not what we carry on us—it’s our relationship with the community,” he explained. That means stopping to chat with kids in the hallway, answering questions in health class about laws and consequences, and teaching students preemptively about choices before they ever make them. “We don’t want to be reactive if we can be preemptive,” he said.

The impact of that approach shows up in small moments: the hugs from students who see him not as an enforcer but as a protector, the ease with which kids approach him to ask for help, and the pride his own children feel pointing him out in the hallways as “that’s my dad.” Even off duty, Spencer’s investment continues. He coaches flag football, junior tackle, and baseball, often spending weekends surrounded by the same families he sees during the week.

Carissa, his wife, matches that commitment in her own way as an investigator for DCFS. Her work, though without the protection of a uniform, takes her into some of the hardest situations children face. “She’s brave,” Spencer said. “She loves kids and will do anything to make sure they’re treated in the best way possible.”

Together, the Morrisseys embody a life of service—to their family, their community, and to Byron’s schools. For Spencer, that means every day is a chance to show students that law enforcement can be more than authority—it can be trust, consistency, and care.

“I’m just a small role in the big wheel that is Byron,” he said. “But if I can help make sure every kid’s experience here is safe and meaningful, then I’ve done my job.”