Police helicopters flew the missing man formation over columns of uniformed officers gathered to honor Herbert B. Stovall, 60, a Peralta Community College District police lieutenant shot to death during a struggle with a suspected burglar on August 16, 1995.

The suspect, Gerald Collier, was fleeing from another officer on the campus of Laney College, just east of downtown Oakland near Lake Merritt, police said.

The fatal chase began when Peralta officer Don Tate, patrolling in his car, saw Collier breaking into a vehicle. As Tate approached, Collier got into a van and sped away with Tate in pursuit. Collier’s vehicle stopped near a bridge over the channel connecting Lake Merritt to the estuary near downtown Oakland.

Stovall, in another patrol car, heard Tate broadcasting information about the chase. Stovall got out of his car and, from the east bank of the channel, saw Tate chasing Collier on the west bank. When Collier tried to escape by crossing the channel, he was met by Stovall wading in from the other side. A struggle ensued, and Stovall, who was not wearing his bulletproof vest, was shot.

Because of Stovall’s decades of service in the Air Force as well as with the Peralta police, the flyby served as a poignant finale to the funeral Mass at All Saints Church. “There are many parasites in the world, and one of them took Herbert’s life,” Alameda County Sheriff Charles Plummer told the more than 400 people, half of them police officers, at the Mass. “Herbert was a producer who made things better.”

Stovall had been a member of All Saints parish and a regular attendee at 5 o’clock Mass. “This is a great loss for all of us,” Father Robert McCann said as Bishop John Cummins of the Oakland Diocese looked on. “Herbert was a person who doted over his family to do the best for them, and he was a peace officer who believed in peace.”

Stovall’s son Adrian stood with his sister, Vanessa, and recounted the zest with which Stovall embraced each day and every deed, no matter how seemingly mundane. He was remembered for being quick to find ways to help his family and friends. “My father focused on the beauty in the world and woke each morning excited about what he was going to do that day,” Adrian Stovall told the mourners. ‘It was my father’s love for people that made him special.”

Booker Ealy, director of the Peralta police force, said Stovall, his second in command, was well-liked and highly respected.

Stovall was the first Peralta officer to be killed in the line of duty since the force was formed in 1967. The 12- member Peralta force mainly deals with illegally parked vehicles, car break-ins and occasional vandalism. The Laney campus, one of four patrolled by the force, is near high-crime areas in central and east Oakland but is generally known as a low-crime oasis.

“We are not among the high-crime campuses in the state,” said Howard Perdue, Peralta’s dean of admissions. “It’s a quiet, sunny day, and then suddenly we have a police officer killed. We’re all devastated by this.”

Stovall is survived by his wife Florence, his mother Margaret Stovall, his son Adrian, his daughters Vanessa and Maritza, his brother Dwight, and three grandchildren. The statewide college police chiefs’ association established a scholarship fund in Stovall’s honor.

To serve and protect. A police officer’s duty, even to the death.

The thousands who mourned for Michael Frederick Clark on August 9, 1995, knew that. But the knowledge did little to ease their grief over the loss of the Simi Valley patrol officer, killed August 4, eight days short of his 29th birthday, by a suicidal man he tried to help.

Governor Pete Wilson and Los Angeles Police Chief Willie L. Williams joined rank-and-file cops, family, friends and acquaintances at Clark’s funeral Mass at his Westlake Village church.

Stephen Baker, a Hawthorne Police Department officer who lives in Simi Valley, brought his wife and daughters to the service. “I’ve been an officer for 18 years, and I’ve been to many funerals,” Baker explained. “But this was the guy who protected my family when I went to work. We owe this man our respect.”

Addressing mourners, Monsignor Thomas O’Connell said Clark “stared death in the face many times and never blinked.” Clark was “compassionate, gentle, tolerant, kind and loving,” O’Connell recalled. “I’m putting Michael up for sainthood,” O’Connell said. “I’m just telling about a man as I knew him.”

Clark left the Los Angeles Police Department after five years of service to join the Simi Valley department. He was the first Simi Valley officer to die in the line of duty in the department’s 24-year history.

The Mass and the memorial service at Valley Oaks Memorial Park drew officers from throughout Southern California, including the entire Simi Valley force. Ventura County Sheriff’s Department officers patrolled Simi Valley streets and Oxnard Police Department dispatchers handled the phones so Clark’s fellow Simi Valley officers could all attend.

A procession of patrol cars and motorcycles traveled from the church to the cemetery. An estimated 3,000 mourners attended the graveside service. Clark’s widow was comforted by relatives and friends as an honor guard saluted her husband and bagpipes played “Amazing Grace.”

After four police helicopters flew the missing man formation to honor Clark, Rep. Elton Gallegly, formerly Simi Valley mayor for six years, said it was hard to believe Clark had been shot. “Even in Simi Valley, there’s vulnerability in working as a police officer, he said. “The best training cannot mitigate that.”

Many of the grieving officers lived in Simi Valley, considered safe and affordable by thousands of cops who work the streets of Southern California cities. Jim Parker, an officer with the Los Angeles Police Department, attended the police academy with Clark. They became friends, sharing Marine Corps stories and competing for honors as squad leaders. “He was a top guy at the academy,” Parker said. “This is such a loss for everybody.”

“Michael was doing what he loved” when he confronted the suicidal man, Clark’s father Frederick said. “This was a distress call. He went out there trying to help someone. That was the kind of man Michael was.”

Clark was raised in Thousand Oaks, graduating from Westlake High School in 1984 and serving in the Marines for four years. He joined the LAPD in 1989 and was assigned to the Devonshire Division as a patrol officer.

Clark’s supervisors at the LAPD called him a solid, well-rounded officer, always one of the highest producers on the shift. They further described him as self-motivated, someone you could count on.

Simi Valley’s acting Chief R.W. Wright said, “In Mike’s short tenure with [our] department, we recognized that he was a top-notch officer, one upon whom we could rely to get the job done.

“Mike was not only a devoted police officer, but one who kept his priorities in line. Becoming a father was the pinnacle of his life. We have lost much more than just a police officer. We have lost a friend.”

Donations may be made to the Michael Clark Trust Fund, c/o Simi Valley Bank, 1475 E. Los Angeles Ave., Simi Valley, CA 93063.

The judges, lawyers and staff that work in the Criminal Courts Building in Los Angeles joined together on July 19, 1995, to mourn the loss of a beloved colleague.

The deputy sheriff they called “G-12” or “Tony” made them laugh, teased them with gentle jokes, counseled them, did legal research and acted as a father figure.

Bailiff Antranik Geuvjehizian was eulogized as a man of exceptional kindness, unpretentious goodness and remarkable charisma. A public defender recalled the time a defendant flew into a rage during his trial and Geuvjehizian gave him a back rub until he calmed down.

The nickname G-12 stemmed from the difficulty people had pronouncing his last name. A fellow bailiff explained: “It started with G and had 12 letters in it.”

Deputy Geuvjehizian, a native of Beirut, Lebanon, was 31 years old when he died on the night of July 18, shot by a prowler near his Pasadena home. He was off duty and unarmed, helping his wife take out the trash, when he spotted a suspicious-looking man in front of his neighbor’s house. The man approached the couple and Geuvjehizian confronted him while his wife ran to call police.

When the prowler fled, Geuvjehizian chased him and was shot several times in the upper body, according to Lieutenant Gene Gray of the Pasadena Police Department.

Geuvjehizian worked as a court bailiff for Judge Carol Fieldhouse, as well as in other courtrooms in the building. He was on the team of bailiffs attached to the O.J. Simpson trial, sometimes accompanying the sequestered jurors on their outings.

People who knew the well-liked bailiff said he made everyone feel appreciated. Deputy District Attorney Marissa Zarate recalled his kindness toward a pregnant court reporter: “Every morning, he would go to the parking lot and get her steno machine and her files, bring them up to court, then get her breakfast.”

Deputy District Attorney Cynthia Rayvis said, “He had a warm, genuine side that touched all of us.

Geuvjehizian did not come across as a cop, recalled Deputy District Attorney Jennifer Lenz. “The last thing he was going to say was, ‘I’m the police.’ The message he projected was, ‘I’m a person, what can I do to help you?”‘

Fieldhouse remembered Geuvjehizian’s calming ability. “Some lawyer would be arguing, getting very emotional, and he would put his arm them quietly. Then he’d look at me and say, ‘OK, judge, we’re ready.”‘

Geuvjehizian was also a top-notch legal researcher, Fieldhouse recalled. “I’d have two lawyers arguing a legal point. Tony would go get Witkin’s and come up with the right page,” she said. “His research skills were staggering. He must have kept me from getting my ass reversed 100 times.”

“Everybody, even the jurors in the Simpson matter, were shaken,” Sheriff’s Commander Patrick Holland said. “All of them loved him. Everybody was really at a loss.”

Court commissioner Paul Enwright said the deputy will be sorely missed. “His training and his personality made him a great bailiff,” Enwright said.

In remarks at a vigil held in Geuvjehizian’s honor, Pasadena Mayor Bill Paparian noted that, “Antranik was named after a famous Armenian World War I hero. Even though the circumstances were so tragic, Antranik died as a hero.”

A member of the Los Angeles County Sheriff’s Department since 1988, Geuvjehizian had lived in the Los Angeles area since he was seven years old. He was married to criminal defense attorney Vicki Sarmiento. He is also survived by his mother, a sister and two brothers.

More than 1,000 law enforcement officers turned out to honor slain Oakland Police Department Officer Keith S. Konopasek, who was shot July 8, 1995, by a former security guard who claimed the shooting was accidental.

Mayor Elihu Harris and Police Chief Joseph Samuels Jr. joined hundreds of grieving family members and colleagues to remember Konopasek as a devoted officer who joined the force less than a year ago after a stint in the U.S. Army Reserve.

The second Oakland officer to die in the line of duty in 1995, Konopasek, 32, a Fremont resident, was shot while searching a car in front of his suspected killer’s home in East Oakland. The Alameda County district attorney charged Clarence Jones, 26, of Oakland with murder of a police officer with a firearm.

At a somber ceremony in Oakland’s Kaiser Convention Center, Konopasek was described as a caring family man and a loving fiance whose determination to become a police officer propelled him to finish third in his graduating class at the Oakland police academy.

“When we leave here today,” Oakland police Captain Mike Sims said in his eulogy, “let us depart with an uplifted spirit, knowing that in our time lived Keith Konopasek, a good man, a man who realized many of his dreams, a man who made a difference.”

The slaying shocked colleagues and friends of both the victim and the suspect. Konopasek and his fiancee, Belen Jimenez of San Jose, had just completed sending out 200 invitations to their wedding, set for September 9.

Konopasek was described by fellow officers as a diligent worker who could barely contain his excitement at becoming a police officer. His father, Ken Konopasek, said that had always been his son’s dream.

Chief Samuels said the officer’s killing demonstrated the need for citizens to campaign for strong gun control.

“There’s nothing more traumatic than an officer’s death in the line of duty,” Samuels said. “You have to understand we are human. We cry. We bleed. We laugh. We don’t want to be exposed to the type of violence that took place this weekend.”

Wearing white gloves and badges wrapped in black bands of mourning, many officers wiped tears from their eyes as Oakland police officer John Beauchamp sang “The Lord’s Prayer.”

“While dealing with Konopasek’s death may be hard,” Chief Harris told the crowd, “it is a time to be strong. We can’t afford the luxury of anger,” he said. “We need to pull together.”

Because the officer’s name was difficult to pronounce, some of Konopasek’s colleagues gave him the nickname “Big Red” in reference to his red hair. Others called him “Paper or Plastic” because he had worked for 13 years at a grocery store in Pleasanton, working his way up from bagger to assistant manager.

Konopasek is survived by his parents, Mr. and Mrs. Louis Ken Konopasek of Rancho Palos Verdes; two sisters, Kari Konopasek and Kristy Mueller; and fiancee Belen Jimenez of San Jose.

The family requested that donations in memory of Keith Konopasek be made to the Oakland Police Emergency Net, 717 Washington St., Oakland, CA 94607.

While bagpipers played “Amazing Grace,” mourners followed Louis Pompei’s flag-draped casket out of the Crystal Cathedral in Garden Grove. Under a gray and threatening sky, the huge glass sanctuary lacked its usual shimmer. Pompei’s funeral service drew 2,000 people, many of them law enforcement officers.

Pompei, 30, a narcotics agent with the Glendora Police Department, was killed June 9, 1995, during a shootout with robbers at a Vons supermarket in his home city of San Dimas. He had interrupted the robbery while off duty and managed to wound two robbers.

Pompei’s mother Dorothy sobbed quietly as her youngest son’s coffin was carried out by fellow officers and placed in the hearse. His older brothers Chester and Tony stood by her side. His fiancee, Tracey Taylor-Careaga, tearfully hugged her friends as police helicopters flew overhead in the missing man formation.

All the while Pompei’s fellow officers watched somberly. Their pain was unmistakable. All 52 Glendora police officers turned out in uniform in his honor, a black band across each badge. Six of them served as pallbearers, accompanied by an honor guard.

Inside the massive church, Glendora Chief Paul Butler stood before the gathering under a 12-story American flag that hung from the ceiling. Two dozen floral arrangements graced the area of the pulpit, together with photographs of Pompei.

Butler’s voice cracked as he remembered a soldier of the community, a vigorous and athletic officer who died defending his town. “He was a dynamo and a radiance of vitality,” Butler said. “He became involved and died a hero.”

Pompei’s fiancee recalled how he had helped her and her family deal with her brother’s death from cancer the preceding July. “Louis was special,” she said. “He had a rapport with everyone. Even people he arrested sent him letters, thanking him for straightening out their lives. The kids from this neighborhood came over all day today, crying.”

Born and raised in Pennsylvania, Pompei graduated from Mahanoy City High School in 1982. He went on to earn a bachelor of arts degree in criminal justice administration from Mansfield University of Pennsylvania in 1986. He was hired as a police officer trainee by the Glendora Police Department in 1987 and attended the Los Angeles County Sheriffs Academy, graduating on March 4, 1988. He was appointed to the rank of agent in 1995.

Pompei was a physical fitness buff, working hard to keep in shape. He competed in the Police Olympics in bodybuilding, finishing second in the men’s open competition. He was part of the Glendora-Monrovia-Arcadia Police Baker to Vegas running team.

About 100 police officers from California, Pennsylvania, New York and Washington, D.C., joined more than 150 other mourners at a Mass for Pompei in Mahanoy City, Pennsylvania.

“You need to know that you sent us a hero Glendora police Lieutenant Timothy Crowther said as he choke back tears at Sacred Heart Church. “You should be very proud of him.”

Pompei leaves behind his mother, Dorothy M. Pompei of Mahanoy City Pennsylvania; three brothers; two sisters; and his fiancee, Tracey Taylor-Careaga of San Dimas.

The Glendora Police Officers Association established a scholarship fund in memory Louis Pompei. Contributions can be sent to P.O. Box 1104, Glendora, CA 91741.

the following was submitted by a friend;

Surrender

No more wars to fight
White flags fly tonight
You are out of danger now
Battlefield is still
Wild poppies on the hill
Peace can only come when you surrender

Hear the tracers fly
Lighting up the sky
But I’ll fight on to the end
Let them send their armies
I will never bend
I won’t see you now ’til I surrender
I’ll see you again when I surrender

-Sunset Blvd.

Brea police detective Danny Valenzuela died May 23, 1995, during a routine bicycle training exercise with officers from several Orange County law enforcement agencies.

Valenzuela, 39, collapsed as the cyclists pedaled from the Westminster to the Fountain Valley police firing range. Fellow officers performed CPR on Valenzuela until paramedics arrived. He was taken to Fountain Valley Regional Hospital and Medical Center where he was pronounced dead.

Valenzuela had no known medical condition and was physically fit, supervisors said. “It was totally unexpected,” said Captain James Winder. “We’re still in a really big state of shock here,” Brea Chief James E. Oman said. “Danny was an officer for 14 years. He was a very valuable member of our department. We’re going to miss him terribly.”

“We lost a member of our family. No one to blame it on, nowhere to displace your anger – that’s what makes it hard,” said Lieutenant Mike Messina.

Valenzuela began service on the Brea force as a patrol officer and became a detective in 1990, but remained part of the department’s popular bicycle unit, Oman said. Valenzuela was hired by the Brea department in 1980 as a patrol officer. In 1987 he joined the motor patrol where he served until becoming a detective. He was the first Brea officer to die on duty since the city was incorporated in 1917.

Captain Tom Christian wrote about Valenzuela: “Danny was a peacemaker. With his quiet and sure manner, he was able to restore calm to the most troubled situations.

“Danny was a team player. How many times did he put aside his own work to assist others? How many times did we hear his voice on the radio volunteering to back up an officer on an alarm call or a family fight?

“Danny was a leader. He was at the forefront of change. He was a charter member of the Crimes Suppression Unit, the Bicycle Patrol and the Peer Counseling Team.

“Danny was a giver. So many times when faced with manpower shortages and a lack of volunteers, he would offer his services.

“Danny was a teacher. He believed in teaching by example. He ‘walked like he talked.’

“Danny was a facilitator. He worked on the city manager’s task force on the Job Center and helped make this difficult project a reality.

“Danny was a healer He was capable of handling emotional and difficult people in situations that few others could manage. His calm and friendly manner soothed the angry and comforted the distraught. He intuitively knew the right things to say and do.

“Danny was a caretaker. Whether working over a drowning victim to restore life, evacuating people from the line of fire or working as a hostage negotiator, he gave himself completely to the care of others.

“When I think of these things, I think of Danny. But mostly, when I think of Danny, Danny was my friend. ‘Danny siempre vive en nuestro corazon.’ Goodbye, Danny.”

Valenzuela is survived by his wife Jean and children Diana, 17; Brian, 15; Sarah, 8; and Christopher, 4.

A memorial fund was established for Valenzuela’s family. Donations can be mailed to the Danny Valenzuela Memorial Fund, c/o Brea Police Officers Association, P.O. Box 243, Brea, CA 92622.

Deputy Jimmie Richard Henry was a Los Angeles County Deputy Sheriff assigned to Avalon Station on Santa Catalina Island. On June 19, 1984 a U.S. Navy F-18 fighter crashed into the island above White’s Landing.

Deputy Jimmie Henry came to work from his day off and responded to the location. There, he inhaled smoke from the burning aircraft without breathing apparatus. The smoke consisted of burning graphite and other unknown classified composite materials. Due to his inhalation exposure, his health gradually deteriorated. He developed pneumonia, pulmonary fibrosis, suffered chronic lung disease and had a lung transplant. Due to his continuing medical problems he was forced to retire on October 25, 1990 and on May 12, 1995 he died at UCLA Medical Center, five months following a lung transplant.

Two other deputies at the crash site also developed documented long term respiratory problems. Although they have not succumbed to their exposure, both were granted worker’s compensation awards and given lifetime medical coverage as to their lungs.

Departmental reports, the Coroners report, medical records, and affidavits from fellow deputies all support, and make a rather strong case, that Deputy Henry’s single exposure to toxic carcinogens on June 19, 1984, while on duty, was the proximate cause of his untimely death on May 12, 1995. He was 49 years old.

Deputy Henry was survived by his wife Susan (since remarried) and his son David.

More than 4,500 relatives, friends, law enforcement officers and government officials turned out in Downey to honor slain Los Angeles County Deputy Stephen W. Blair.

Among those attending the service at Calvary Chapel were Los Angeles County Sheriff Sherman Block, District Attorney Gil Garcetti, at least 30 chiefs of police from throughout California, and members of the Los Angeles County Board of Supervisors and the Lynwood City Council.

After the service, Blair’s body was escorted to Rose Hills Memorial Park in Whittier by a motorcade of 300 law enforcement motorcycles and 500 patrol cars. At the request of Blair’s fellow officers at the Los Angeles County Sheriff’s Department’s Century Station, thousands of Southern California motorists drove with their headlights on all day May 18 to show support for law enforcement.

Blair, 31, was shot to death May 12, 1995, after he and his partner got out of their patrol car at a park in Lynwood to question suspected gang members, one of who was seen tossing away what later was found to be a loaded pistol.

Two days later, one suspect in the shooting surrendered to deputies in Lynwood. He was cleared in the shooting. The day of the funeral, Gov. Pete Wilson announced the addition of $100,000 to the reward for information leading to the arrest and conviction of Blair’s killer.

The men and women Blair worked with at the Century Sheriff’s Station in Lynwood remembered him for his steadiness, his sensitivity and the rapport he established with almost everyone in town, gang members and law-abiding citizens alike. He was our community cop. This guy had fallen in love with the city” said Lynwood Councilman Armando Rea, also a deputy.

Blair’s first field assignment, after the obligatory new deputy’s stint working the jail, was in Lynwood. Seven years later, after earning the trust and respect of a diverse community, he was the contact person for neighborhood watch groups. Then, little more than a week before his death, he was given a choice assignment: new duty on the sheriff’s gang enforcement team operating out of the Lakewood Station.

When Blair received his new assignment, he told his mother, who still lives in his boyhood home in Pico Rivera, that she should be happy because he was moving to a safer job, recounted Sheriff Sherman Block. “[Blair’s] mother said to me that not too long ago he had told her that ‘If anything ever happens to me, you can take comfort in knowing that I was doing what I wanted to do.”‘

Blair attended St. John Bosco High School and was a sheriff’s Explorer Scout for one year before joining the sheriff’s department in 1985. He married a Lynwood paramedic, Dana, last December.

In addition to his wife, Stephen Blair is survived by three sons from a previous marriage: Stephen, 11; Joseph, 6; and Michael, 5.

A trust fund has been set up for Blair’s sons. Contributions may be sent to Sheriff’s Relief Foundation, 11515 Colima Road, Whittier, CA 90604.

William R. Bolt, a state drug agent and former officer with the San Rafael Police Department, was one of two people killed May 9, 1995, in a head-on crash on state Highway 37 west of Vallejo. The accident came only five days after a state senator urged that Highway 37 be designated a “killer highway” because of its long history of fatal accidents.

Bolt, 48, who was enroute to a two-week departmental training class in Concord, died instantly in the early morning collision near Skaggs Island. Bolt was wearing a seat belt but was apparently killed on impact.

A 31-year-old Fairfield woman driving west in a Toyota Corolla crossed the center line and collided with Bolt’s eastbound Mercury Cougar, said California Highway Patrol Officer Terry Pedrepti. She was also killed.

Funeral services for Bolt were held in his home town, Spirit Creek, Iowa.

Bolt, known to friends as Randy, was a special agent with the state Bureau of Narcotics Enforcement in San Francisco. He had recently married and lived in Petaluma.

Fellow officers who knew Bolt said he was devoted to police work. “Policemen have a way of falling in love with the job, and that’s what happened to Randy,” said San Rafael Officer Jim Cook.

Bolt served as a police officer in San Rafael from 1983 to 1988. He worked as a patrol officer and sexual assault investigator in San Rafael, and had attained the rank of corporal before leaving the department.

“He was a big, easy-going guy who liked riding motorcycles,” San Rafael Chief Bob Krolak said. “He was one of those guys you liked instantly when you met him.”

Krolak noted that Bolt remained friends with a number of San Rafael officers over the years since leaving the department. “A lot of people here are hurting,” he said.

Bolt had been a deputy with the Placer County Sheriff’s Office before he was hired in San Rafael.

Officer Cook said Bolt’s law enforcement career took off after he moved from the San Rafael department to stints with the Bureau of Narcotics Enforcement in Riverside and San Francisco. “Working narcotics is a world in its own, and Randy really enjoyed that,” Cook said. “He thrived on the undercover work, the stealth, the surveillances.”

Bolt is survived by his wife Sandra [Younglove] and children Steven Bolt and Dianne Maddox, all of Petaluma.

Donations in memory of Randy Bolt may be sent to the S.A. Randy Bolt Memorial Fund, Child Sexual Abuse Treatment Program, 1005 A Street, Suite 301, San Rafael, CA 94901, attn: Mike Grogon.

It was a sight few had seen. Nobody had seen it in Ukiah since 1951: the funeral and memorial service for a fallen peace officer.

Mendocino Sheriff’s Deputy George R. Davis, 48, was shot and killed April 14, 1995 following a gun battle pitting himself and another deputy against a murder suspect, who also was killed. As Davis checked the suspect he was fatally shot from ambush by another suspect.

The memorial service began with a procession of motorcycles, patrol cars and other law enforcement and rescue vehicles. The procession stretched through Ukiah from the south end to the north end. People lined the streets, the sadness in their faces reflecting the loss they felt in their hearts.

The procession ended at Mendocino Community College. The college auditorium was filled with officers from around the state. The bleachers were filled with the families of local officers, the court and district attorney’s staffs and many who came to pay their respects to the fallen officer.

Speakers at the memorial service included Mendocino County Sheriff James Tuso, Lieutenant Charlie Bone, Lieutenant Rich Wiseman, Sergeant Jack Stapleton, Captain Burle Murray and many of Davis’ friends and brother deputies.

The ceremony was officiated by Rick Oliver, a retired peace officer who is now a local minister. His experience gave Oliver special insight into the working and private lives of peace officers, their hopes and fears and what motivates them to dedicate their working lives to serving and safeguarding the public.

Bob Davis was not your typical peace officer. He had already retired from the military after a distinguished career with the elite Navy Seals. Davis graduated from the police academy in Santa Rosa in December of 1987. On January 10, 1988, he began his second career with the Mendocino County Sheriff’s Department. After completing his field training, he was assigned to the North Area Substation.

He was well respected by his fellow deputies. Several of them recounted how much they had enjoyed working with Davis and how they were always comfortable knowing that he could and would do whatever it took to get the job done.

Those who worked with Davis came up with a nickname that stuck, “Intense Bob.” This was the result of his intense persistence and dedication to the job at hand.

Davis was also intent on seeing people “do time” for crimes they committed. He was known to call the district attorney and talk with her about a case he was involved in. He would inquire how the D.A.’s office was going to proceed with a particular case. If they needed more information, he would be diligent in gathering whatever information they required to bring the case to a “proper” conclusion.

On the other hand, Davis hated overtime. He would give his all while on duty, but he liked his time away from the “office” with his family. He loved fishing and was an avid scuba diver, always ready for a trip to the ocean with anybody who would go with him.

Davis leaves his wife of 12 years, Phyllis; his four children, Trisha, Eric, Cameron and Matthew; and a granddaughter, Tiffany.

Contributions can be sent to the Davis Memorial Trust, Mendocino County Savings Bank, 200 North School Street, Ukiah, CA 95482.

Eugene “Bear” Lincoln walked out of the Mendocino County Courthouse free of criminal charges stemming from the 1995 slaying of Davis. The State Attorney General’s Office announced that a three-month review of evidence led to the conclusion that manslaughter charges could not be proven.