March 27th was the memorial, which I was able to attend. My OFD buddy Linda said, "What? You're driving up here after work?" and promptly bought me plane tickets instead. She's an amazing person.
I arrived inside the Oakland Arena for the memorial early, but it sounded like the morning was an amazing thing to see, with the motorcades escorting the caskets to Oakland. Freeways were jammed as miles and miles of patrol units, motorcycles, and fire engines made their way to Oakland. I read that as they crossed into the city limits, each freeway overpass was lined with firefighters from Alameda County and elsewhere, saluting the motorcades below.
There were cops from everywhere. In all the talk with OFD folks, as well as newspaper articles and online reports I read since then, I heard about so many departments that made the trek. There were cops from all over California, to say the least. An Emeryville firefighter told me there was a group of motorcycle cops from Orange County Sheriff's Dept. that left their motorcycles at her firehouse the night before, after the 8-hour ride up. I heard Chicago PD made the 2100 mile drive out here, some PD from Minnesota also driving out. There were 50 cops from Boston - I saw many of them myself - and I heard JetBlue donated a plane for 250 NYPD members to attend. We saw Canadian Mounties, and I read somewhere that there was even a cop from Tokyo. One department had their SWAT unit there. I was asked why cops would drive out from so far away in their patrol units or motorcycles instead of flying in, and the reason is so all those cop cars could be present, to show solidarity and support. I saw many AMR employees too, and I heard Highland Hospital staff were there as well. Of course, several fire departments had members in attendance, and the majority of OFD was there, too. I got to say hello to lots of old co-workers, even though it was for the worst reason. Geoff, my old captain, as well as Heather, his friend from Emeryville FD, passed up sitting in the fire dept section so they could sit with me in the general section. It's good to have good friends.
I've never seen a memorial like this before, and I doubt I'll ever see anything like it again. The entire Oakland Police Dept. was in attendance, the motor units with their domed helmets and K9 units with their German Shepherds, non-sworn employees, and Animal Control too, as Alameda County Sheriff's, the CHP, and I even heard LAPD were on the streets to handle Oakland during the memorial. There were so many people in attendance, a few thousand spilled over to the Coliseum to watch on the big screens. When the honor guard took the flags off the coffins and folded them for the police chief to present to the surviving families, there was not a sound. There was an occasional throat cleared, the sound of men trying to control their tears, but nothing else. No babies crying, no cell phones, no K9s whining, no sirens outside, nothing. To say "you could hear a pin drop" would be too cliche, so I will say instead that in the whole arena where they play NBA basketball games and were maxed out to their 20,000 seat capacity, you would have been able to clearly hear someone dropping a water bottle or a plastic cup. That's how quiet it was. And it lasted for about 10 minutes.
There were many people who spoke in the ceremony, but the most memorable was the SWAT captain. He was just impressive, with the perfect amounts of sensitivity, toughness, grief, inspiration, and praise for the four officers, as well as the rest of OPD. He singled out and gave a heartfelt thank you to the citizen who rushed over to perform CPR on one of the first downed officers. He too sighed a lot, but delivered the eulogy bravely and toughly. He projected the air of one of those natural leaders, the type of man you flock to in fearful or uncertain moments. After the general remarks and eulogies, each officer had their own. I had long lost it at the beginning, the moment the bagpipes started playing, but Dan's part was the hardest. The K9 units were impressively silent throughout the service, but when someone walked out Dan's K9, "Doc," to the coffin, he gave four or five barks. It was the saddest sound all day, even more than the bagpipes or the bugle playing taps.
There were cops from everywhere. In all the talk with OFD folks, as well as newspaper articles and online reports I read since then, I heard about so many departments that made the trek. There were cops from all over California, to say the least. An Emeryville firefighter told me there was a group of motorcycle cops from Orange County Sheriff's Dept. that left their motorcycles at her firehouse the night before, after the 8-hour ride up. I heard Chicago PD made the 2100 mile drive out here, some PD from Minnesota also driving out. There were 50 cops from Boston - I saw many of them myself - and I heard JetBlue donated a plane for 250 NYPD members to attend. We saw Canadian Mounties, and I read somewhere that there was even a cop from Tokyo. One department had their SWAT unit there. I was asked why cops would drive out from so far away in their patrol units or motorcycles instead of flying in, and the reason is so all those cop cars could be present, to show solidarity and support. I saw many AMR employees too, and I heard Highland Hospital staff were there as well. Of course, several fire departments had members in attendance, and the majority of OFD was there, too. I got to say hello to lots of old co-workers, even though it was for the worst reason. Geoff, my old captain, as well as Heather, his friend from Emeryville FD, passed up sitting in the fire dept section so they could sit with me in the general section. It's good to have good friends.
I've never seen a memorial like this before, and I doubt I'll ever see anything like it again. The entire Oakland Police Dept. was in attendance, the motor units with their domed helmets and K9 units with their German Shepherds, non-sworn employees, and Animal Control too, as Alameda County Sheriff's, the CHP, and I even heard LAPD were on the streets to handle Oakland during the memorial. There were so many people in attendance, a few thousand spilled over to the Coliseum to watch on the big screens. When the honor guard took the flags off the coffins and folded them for the police chief to present to the surviving families, there was not a sound. There was an occasional throat cleared, the sound of men trying to control their tears, but nothing else. No babies crying, no cell phones, no K9s whining, no sirens outside, nothing. To say "you could hear a pin drop" would be too cliche, so I will say instead that in the whole arena where they play NBA basketball games and were maxed out to their 20,000 seat capacity, you would have been able to clearly hear someone dropping a water bottle or a plastic cup. That's how quiet it was. And it lasted for about 10 minutes.
There were many people who spoke in the ceremony, but the most memorable was the SWAT captain. He was just impressive, with the perfect amounts of sensitivity, toughness, grief, inspiration, and praise for the four officers, as well as the rest of OPD. He singled out and gave a heartfelt thank you to the citizen who rushed over to perform CPR on one of the first downed officers. He too sighed a lot, but delivered the eulogy bravely and toughly. He projected the air of one of those natural leaders, the type of man you flock to in fearful or uncertain moments. After the general remarks and eulogies, each officer had their own. I had long lost it at the beginning, the moment the bagpipes started playing, but Dan's part was the hardest. The K9 units were impressively silent throughout the service, but when someone walked out Dan's K9, "Doc," to the coffin, he gave four or five barks. It was the saddest sound all day, even more than the bagpipes or the bugle playing taps. At the end of the service, we saw four groups of five police, Coast Guard, and rescue helicopters, one group for each officer, fly above the Arena in Missing Man formation. There was a 21-gun salute by the National Guard as well, which I later learned is the highest symbol of honor the United States can give.
The memorial was a good tribute. I'm so glad I went. At the end of freshman year at Cal, I was stranded in Berkeley without a car. I was going to live with Grandma in Lompoc and borrow Tommy's car that summer, but I needed a way to get down there. So Dan gave me a ride. He drove five hours down, politely said hello to Grandma and Grandaddy Lee, maybe had a cup of coffee, then turned around and drove the five hours back up! He said he could go visit his own grandparents in Nipomo, but I don't think I ever really believed him - I'm still not sure he wasn't just being a really great person. Grandma liked him, which of course says volumes about his character. So I'm glad I was able to finally make the trip for Dan, just as he did for me, many years ago. I just wish it had been for a different reason.
1 comment:
Stumbled on your blog. Nice story. I got teary at the dog barking. Don't read my blog, it is a nasty piece of work. Mine is evil and yours is good. Glad there is balance in the world.
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