It started like so many other stories we see on police body cameras.
Flashing blue lights.
A frustrated driver.
A speeding stop on a Sunday afternoon.
But as reporter Hannah Goetz of WSOC-TV explains in her video report, this traffic stop in Cabarrus County didn’t end with a ticket or an arrest.
It ended with a hug, a confession, and a woman quietly admitting she was close to giving up on her life.
A Simple Speeding Stop Starts Off Rocky
From the lens of Deputy Shawn Singleton’s body camera, the scene looks completely routine at first.
Goetz says the video begins with Singleton explaining to the driver that she’d been stopped for going 61 miles per hour in a 45-mph zone.
The driver, Katelyn Ricchini, later told Goetz she had been heading home from church that Sunday when she saw those lights in her rearview mirror.
“I meet him with absolute attitude, just absolute attitude,” Ricchini admitted in the interview.
The body cam captures that tension.
“I’m not allowed to have bad days?” she fires back at the deputy.
Singleton doesn’t raise his voice.
“No, everybody is entitled to a bad day,” he replies. “I can understand that completely, OK, but like, I’m trying to be nice and courteous to you, and like, I’m getting a lot of heat off.”
Ricchini tells him she comes from “a background where I don’t do cops, I can’t stand cops.”
She’s not shy about her distrust.
And Singleton later tells Goetz he could tell “immediately” that this was not going to be the easiest interaction.
A Warning Instead Of A Ticket
With many officers, that kind of attitude might have guaranteed a citation.
But according to Goetz’s reporting, Singleton kept his composure, ran her license, and then made a different choice.
He decided to let her off with a warning. On the body cam, he explains calmly what he’s doing.
“I understand you’re having a day, so I’m not trying to make it any worse,” Singleton tells her. “This is a warning ticket. Please slow down. That’s it. No court date, no fines, no nothing. All I ask is you pay attention to the speed limit signs. Get to where you’re getting to safely.”
That alone would have made this traffic stop unusual.
But as Goetz explains, something shifted in that moment.
Singleton sensed there was more going on than a short temper and a lead foot.
“I could tell something was going on,” he told Goetz. “Sometimes you just ask a question, and sometimes it elicits an answer that you expect, and sometimes it elicits an answer that you don’t expect. And this was definitely one that I didn’t expect.”
So instead of walking away, he paused.
And asked one simple question.
“Are you good?”
“My Anxiety Is Killing Me”
On the video, Ricchini doesn’t try to pretend everything is fine.
“No,” she answers. “No. My anxiety is killing me.”
She goes on to explain that she comes from a background where she’s now “clean and sober,” but that her past experiences with officers have almost always ended in handcuffs, not empathy.
Singleton doesn’t brush that off.
He tells her he understands that where she came from probably “was not the best,” and reminds her she came to North Carolina “for a reason” and should give it a chance.
Goetz notes that in that moment, the tone of the entire encounter changes.
This is no longer just about a speeding warning.
It’s about a woman who is clearly barely holding it together.
Singleton then takes things a step further.
“Is there anything I can do for you?” he asks in the recording. “Do you need help with anything at all? Do you want a hug?”
Ricchini’s answer is quiet, but it says everything.
“Yeah.”
A Hug, A Confession, And A Past She’s Trying To Escape
On the side of the road, captured on his body camera, Deputy Singleton and Katelyn Ricchini share a hug.
For her, it is something completely new.
“I’ve never hugged a cop before,” she later tells Goetz. “I’ve always been put in handcuffs by them.”
Through tears, Ricchini explains how she ended up in North Carolina.
“I moved down here to get away from an abusive relationship, and I’m clean and I’m sober for four months,” she says on the body cam clip.
Goetz reports that Ricchini had spent years battling addiction and abuse.
She had left Maryland and her 5-year-old son, moving states so that she could get clean and eventually win custody of him back.
In other words, she wasn’t just having a bad day.
She was in the middle of a full reset of her life.
And she was exhausted.
Later, Ricchini told Goetz that she was “ready to give up” that day.
“I was actually on my way to probably do something that wasn’t in my best interest,” she admitted.
That’s the part of the story that hits hardest.
Because in hindsight, that quiet moment on the side of the road might have been a literal fork in the path – one direction toward relapse and self-destruction, the other toward recovery and rebuilding.
And it turned on something as simple as a deputy choosing to ask, “Are you good?” instead of just walking back to his car.
A Deputy’s View Of Mercy, Grace, And The Badge
In her report, Goetz asked Singleton what was going through his mind that day and how he sees his role as a deputy.
He didn’t talk about authority or power.
He talked about mercy and grace.
“I try to show mercy and grace where I can,” Singleton told her. “Because that’s what I believe is the calling for myself and for law enforcement.”
He said that’s why most officers get into the job in the first place – to be there to help.
“If you have that moment, that chance to show that sympathy, and that moment to do it, and not just walk idly by, it may mean the difference to somebody else,” he said.
It’s a simple philosophy, but one that often gets lost in national debates about policing.
Goetz’s story doesn’t ignore the reality that many people, like Ricchini, do come from backgrounds where their experiences with law enforcement have been negative or even traumatic.
But this report also shows what can happen when an officer leans into patience instead of pride, curiosity instead of ego.
In this case, it didn’t just change the mood of a traffic stop.
It may have helped keep someone from giving up on herself entirely.
Ten Months Clean, A Reunited Family, And A Full-Circle Moment
The traffic stop happened back in March.
Goetz explains that about six months later, cameras were rolling again – this time for a very different kind of meeting.
By then, Ricchini was celebrating 10 months clean.
She had a full-time job.
And her young son, Isaiah, was living with her again.
In the follow-up video, Ricchini proudly introduces her son to Deputy Singleton.
“Look, this is one of the guys that saved my life,” she says.
Singleton tells her, “It’s good to see you again,” and encourages her not to lose the fight that’s in her.
“There’s something in you that’s driving you to a better life,” he says. “Don’t lose that. Hang on to it.”
For Ricchini, it’s hard to put into words what that roadside moment meant.
“He saw me as a person, not an addict,” she told Goetz.
“And he saw my heart, I have potential. When so many people had counted me out, and so many people just lost hope and lost faith in me, he saw something.”
She also described the encounter in spiritual terms.
“In a time of desperation where I was questioning, ‘God, where are you?’ he sent me an angel,” she said of the deputy.
She says she plans to mark one year sober in November and has invited Singleton to come celebrate with her.
For her, he isn’t just the cop who let her off with a warning.
He’s the stranger who stopped long enough to listen – and helped her believe she still had a future worth fighting for.
Small Moments, Big Stakes
As Goetz notes in her closing, we see a lot of body camera videos in the news.
Too often, they show the worst moments – violence, chaos, and scenes where everything has already gone wrong.
This one is different.
It’s quiet.
Awkward at first.
Emotional by the end.
But it’s a reminder that not every life-changing moment happens in a courtroom, a rehab center, or a church.
Sometimes it happens on the shoulder of a county road, with a speeding warning in one hand and a shaky hug in the other.
And it proves that for people trying to claw their way out of addiction and trauma, sometimes the most powerful thing in the world is simply being seen – not as a problem, not as a case file, but as a person who still has potential.
Growing up in the Pacific Northwest, John developed a love for the great outdoors early on. With years of experience as a wilderness guide, he’s navigated rugged terrains and unpredictable weather patterns. John is also an avid hunter and fisherman who believes in sustainable living. His focus on practical survival skills, from building shelters to purifying water, reflects his passion for preparedness. When he’s not out in the wild, you can find him sharing his knowledge through writing, hoping to inspire others to embrace self-reliance.
