Arthur Paul Parga, a Merced native, was named outstanding officer in his police academy graduating class.

Parga died in the line of duty Friday, Jan. 22, 1993, while on the job as a member of Stockton Police Department’s special weapons and tactical unit that was assisting CRACNET a countywide narcotics task force, in serving a search warrant.

He and the man believed to have shot him, 63-year-old Manuel Medina Ramirez, were killed as drug agents raided a residence early Friday. Parga was shot fatally in the head and leg during an exchange of gunfire as he and other officers tried to serve a search warrant shortly after 2 a.m.

“SWAT members entered the house and were confronted by a resident of the house,” a police spokesman said.

“This subject was armed and shot one of the officers, fatally wounding the officer. Another officer confronted the subject, who was still armed, and shot the subject.”

The killings occurred in a north Stockton neighborhood of well-kept, fairly new single-family homes. A neighbor said she had seen no sign of drug dealing but often heard gunfire in the area at night.

The raid on the house was part of an investigation into marijuana trafficking.

Parga had been on the Stockton police force for 3 1/2 years and previously was a Santa Cruz County Sheriff’s Deputy from January 1984 to August 1989. While working at the Santa Cruz Sheriff’s Department, he led the investigation of the notorious “freeway rapist” and was responsible for his arrest.

Parga grew up in Merced County, received an associate of science degree from Merced College before earning an administration-of-justice degree from San Jose State University in 1984.

Stockton Police Chief Lucian Neely, wiping tears from his eyes, at Parga’s funeral offered some remembrances and named Parga Stockton’s Officer of the Year. “Art was an architect designing the future of the Stockton Police Department,” Neely said. “He will be missed.”

Stockton police Capt. David Swim said Parga’s name, etched in the granite memorial, means “his memory will be with us in the line of duty. He made the ultimate sacrifice.” Swim urged family and friends to remember Parga’s “goodness, kindness… his courage.” He added, “We share your grief, anger and pain.”

Deputy Chief of Operations Ed Chavez said Parga’s death, the first for a police officer in the line of duty since Timothy White was killed in 1990, has shaken the department.

“I can tell you it’s a time of extreme difficulty and solace in this department,” Chavez said. “Art was a very professional officer and well-liked by everybody who knew him.”

Parga was a member of the National Association of Field Training Officers.

Parga, 31, was survived by his pregnant wife, Lisa Marie, and a 5-year-old son, Arthur. Trust funds for his family have been established at Union Safe Deposit Bank, 5555 N. Pershing Ave., Stockton, CA 95207, and at Bank of America, 1546 St. Marks Plaza, Stockton, CA 95207.

On May 27, 1992, while on bicycle patrol in the Hollywood area, Officer Joe Rios struck an automobile which exited a parking lot obstructing Rios’ path. Rios sustained a cerebral concussion which contributed to his death eight months later of a massive seizure and cardiac arrest.

Morgan Haynes had just one more request for Santa Claus – she wanted her daddy back. It’s a wish that won’t come true for the 3-year-old Benicia girl.

Richmond police Officer David T. Haynes, was shot to death along with fellow Officer Leonard W. Garcia at 6:30 a.m. on Monday, Dec. 28, 1992, half an hour before they were scheduled to go off duty.

“She asked if she could talk to Santa Claus to see if he could bring daddy home from the hospital,” Haynes’ wife, Kyle, said after learning of her husband’s death.

That eventful Monday would have been Haynes’ last day on patrol duty, his wife said. He was scheduled to join Richmond’s detective team, investigating juvenile crime. The 30-year-old leaves behind two children, his daughter and a 1-year-old son.

“I don’t think any of us will ever be the same,” said Leonard Garcia’s brother, Ron. Both officers were shot to death when they tried to intervene in an argument between a distraught man and his ex-wife.

In a scene reminiscent of past arguments with his wife, Jay Choe had arrived at her apartment with a gun, the tool by which he had planned to bring the family together. But this time, he used it, shooting both officers, his wife and their son, before apparently turning the gun on himself. All three men were killed. Choe’s wife and son survived.

Friends and colleagues said the Richmond Police Department had lost two of its best. Both were dedicated officers who got into the business because they wanted to help others.

Garcia, 31, grew up in San Pablo and was last living in Suisun. “He knew what he wanted to do, and he did it with conviction,” Ron Garcia said of his younger brother. “He wanted to be where he thought he could make a difference.”

Garcia had been assigned to the graveyard shift for almost a year. He spent about three years in the narcotics division before that.

“I can speak from the perspective as his boss. He seemed to have a great personality and a good sense of humor,” said Richmond Lt. Ray Howard, commander of the Iron Triangle Community Policing Project and a 20-year veteran of the force.

Haynes was known for his expert work with evidence such as fingerprints. Ironically, he was the officer who took a rifle away from Choe two years ago and booked it as evidence that helped sentence him to a year in jail.

Howard said he was impressed with Haynes’ sense of compassion and religious devotion. A Woodland native, Haynes had attended seminary and completed a one-year mission in Chile, his wife said. Both were members of the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints in Benicia.

“(Haynes) was truly a nice man. Being a good officer aside, he was just truly a nice man,” Howard said. “He was very religious and thoughtful. He cared about his fellow human beings and wanted the best for everybody, not just those in the department.”

In just a few years on the police force, both men had accumulated numerous commendations from their superiors, said Sgt. Mike Pon.

Morgan Haynes had just one more request for Santa Claus – she wanted her daddy back. It’s a wish that won’t come true for the 3-year-old Benicia girl.

Richmond police Officer David T. Haynes, was shot to death along with fellow Officer Leonard W. Garcia at 6:30 a.m. on Monday, Dec. 28, 1992, half an hour before they were scheduled to go off duty.

“She asked if she could talk to Santa Claus to see if he could bring daddy home from the hospital,” Haynes’ wife, Kyle, said after learning of her husband’s death.

That eventful Monday would have been Haynes’ last day on patrol duty, his wife said. He was scheduled to join Richmond’s detective team, investigating juvenile crime. The 30-year-old leaves behind two children, his daughter and a 1-year-old son.

“I don’t think any of us will ever be the same,” said Leonard Garcia’s brother, Ron. Both officers were shot to death when they tried to intervene in an argument between a distraught man and his ex-wife.

In a scene reminiscent of past arguments with his wife, Jay Choe had arrived at her apartment with a gun, the tool by which he had planned to bring the family together. But this time, he used it, shooting both officers, his wife and their son, before apparently turning the gun on himself. All three men were killed. Choe’s wife and son survived.

Friends and colleagues said the Richmond Police Department had lost two of its best. Both were dedicated officers who got into the business because they wanted to help others.

Garcia, 31, grew up in San Pablo and was last living in Suisun. “He knew what he wanted to do, and he did it with conviction,” Ron Garcia said of his younger brother. “He wanted to be where he thought he could make a difference.”

Garcia had been assigned to the graveyard shift for almost a year. He spent about three years in the narcotics division before that.

“I can speak from the perspective as his boss. He seemed to have a great personality and a good sense of humor,” said Richmond Lt. Ray Howard, commander of the Iron Triangle Community Policing Project and a 20-year veteran of the force.

Haynes was known for his expert work with evidence such as fingerprints. Ironically, he was the officer who took a rifle away from Choe two years ago and booked it as evidence that helped sentence him to a year in jail.

Howard said he was impressed with Haynes’ sense of compassion and religious devotion. A Woodland native, Haynes had attended seminary and completed a one-year mission in Chile, his wife said. Both were members of the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints in Benicia.

“(Haynes) was truly a nice man. Being a good officer aside, he was just truly a nice man,” Howard said. “He was very religious and thoughtful. He cared about his fellow human beings and wanted the best for everybody, not just those in the department.”

In just a few years on the police force, both men had accumulated numerous commendations from their superiors, said Sgt. Mike Pon.

Officer David C. Schmid, 34, Los Angeles Police Dept., died in the line-of-duty on Wednesday, Dec. 16, 1992, in Palmdale as a result of an on-duty traffic accident while riding his motorcycle to work.

Schmid, who celebrated his 34th birthday on Nov. 19, was appointed to the department on March 5, 1984. He worked at the LAPD’s Valley Traffic Division.

Schmid was killed when a ’91 Toyota Camry driven by Denise Elletson made a left turn in front of him. He collided with the vehicle, was ejected, and struck the curb suffering a broken neck, arm, and other injuries. He was taken to the Palmdale Medical Center where he died eight hours later.

Thousands of people including officers from law enforcement agencies throughout Southern California attended funeral services for Schmid, which were held on Dec. 22 at the Our Lady of Perpetual Help Church.

Numerous police cars were included in the procession to the Eternal Valley Cemetery where he was buried.

Survivors include his wife, Teresa, who was pregnant; his mother, LaMoine Schmid; father David Schmid; stepmother Linda Schmid; and stepdaughter, Tiffany Jansen.

A Los Angeles Police Department officer killed when his motorcycle collided with a car was remembered as a quiet and hard working man who was devoted to his wife and six children.

Raymond A. “Skip” Messerly, Jr., 42, was eulogized by his longtime friend, Officer Bruce Christensen, as someone who would go out of his way to help others.

“Skip was a worker, not a talker,” said Christensen, who trained Messerly when the Vietnam veteran joined the police force 11 years ago. “Skip could work on anything. He would take his own time to help you.”

Messerly died Oct. 22, 1992, the day after he collided with a car and was thrown from his motorcycle while pursuing a traffic violator.

“Goodbye Ray, Skip, Officer Messerly, and to the fortunate few, Dad,” Christensen said. “It’s 9 Mary 103, Oct. 22, 1992. 9 Mary 103, end of watch.”

The “9 Mary 103” reference was to Messerly’s radio call numbers at the time of the accident.

Officer Edward Hale sang “Amazing Grace” while another accompanied on guitar at the service, which was attended by 1,500 officers, friends, and relatives at Grace Community Church in Sun Valley.

An officer explained that while serving as a pall bearer at another officer’s funeral earlier this year, Messerly had asked that Hale sing the hymn at his service if he were killed in the line-of-duty.

The flag-draped casket was surrounded by bouquets of flowers and flanked by a photograph of Messerly. After the brief tribute, a cavalcade of motorcycle officers from the California Highway Patrol as well as contingents of officers from Santa Barbara, Chino, Ontario, Montclair, Claremont, and other Southern California agencies drove to Mission Hills, where Messerly was buried.

Police Chief Willie L. Williams handed the flag to the officer’s widow, Marie Messerly, during the burial service.

Former Police Chief Daryl F. Gates attended, as did Councilman Nate Holden and other dignitaries.

At the burial, “Amazing Grace” was played on bag pipes, and “Taps” was performed on the bugle.

An honor guard from the Air Force, in which Messerly was in the reserves, was present at the burial as was an Los Angeles Police Dept. honor guard.

Messerly is survived by his widow, Marie, and six children, Renee, 18, Ryan, 15, Lisa, 13, and triplets Raymond, Ronnie, and Richard, 11.

The life of Los Angeles Police Department Detective Edward S. Kislo was dedicated to two responsibilities: “One of them was his 12-year old son Nicholas, the other was his police department.”

Kislo, 50, was shot and killed in the line-of-duty on August 23, 1992, while responding to a neighbor’s call for help.

On Saturday, Aug. 22, at 11:45 p.m., Fredricka Haymaker heard noises coming from her backyard. She saw a silhouette coming over her fence into her yard. She telephoned her neighbor, Det. Kislo, who was off duty and at home.

Kislo went to Haymaker’s residence and was directed to the backyard by Fred Lyon, Haymaker’s father. As Kislo was searching for the prowler, Lyon heard Kislo state, “Show yourself.”

Kislo was starting to point his 9mm automatic toward some shrubbery, when Lyon saw a flash of fire and heard a loud bang coming from the shrubbery.

Kislo fell to the ground. He was transported to the Brothman Hospital where he was treated for a gunshot wound to his right neck area. He was pronounced dead at 1:30 a.m.

There are no suspects in the murder of the 18-year LAPD veteran.

Pastor Mark G. Lemenes and Father Mike McCullough, department chaplain, presented Kislo’s eulogy at the El Dorado Park Community Church which was filled leaving many officers standing outside.

Approximately 600 law enforcement personnel from Los Angeles and surrounding areas attended the funeral services.

The Kislo’s hearse was proceeded to the Forest Lawn Cypress Cemetery by a unit of horses, one of which was riderless.

The pall bearers included officers Jeff Churchill, John Rodriquez, Mike Schweer, Ray Mauss, Mike Hrehor, Larry Molinar, and civilian Jeff Williams.

Sgt. Randy Guan led the Honor Guard which conducted the formal flag presentation.

Officer Terese Churchill remembered Kislo as the “type of person who’d give you the shirt off his back. One who would always be the first to volunteer to stay late so his coworkers could leave. He was a great friend along with being a good coworker.”

Kislo, a Navy veteran, had been a member of the Detective Headquarters Division on PM Watch for the past two years. He was assigned to the K-Car and investigated natural deaths.

Detective Kislo is survived by his son Nicholas, mother Rose Kislo of Massachusetts, and sister Carolyn Zielinski of Florida.

It was a day Dinuba Police Chief Ed Hernandez hoped he would never have to face. A day when one of his officers, who died in the line-of-duty, was to be buried.

“As police chief this is one of the things that’s in the back of my mind that I hoped I’d never have to do,” said Hernandez in his eulogy of Dinuba Reserve Police Officer Ron Hills.

Officer Hills died while on duty August 5, 1992. He was rushing to help another officer attempt to capture three fleeing thieves when his patrol car crashed into a power pole. The three thieves had taken a couple of packs of beer from a local market.

Hills, 35, was the first Dinuba officer to die in the line-of-duty in the history of the department.

Hills, a two-year veteran of the Dinuba force, was working as a level-one reserve officer for the department, doing the job of a regular sworn officer at the time of his death.

Hernandez remembered Hills for his hard work, his positive image in the community as a police officer, and his taking the time to care.

Hernandez noted that one thing that stood out about Officer Hills was that people liked him, projecting what Hernandez likes to see in his officers, a positive image of taking the time to talk with people and caring for them.

Hernandez said that he had been at the Dinuba Burger King following Hill’s death when he noticed that all the employees were wearing black ribbons on their uniforms. When Hernandez questioned one employee about why they were wearing the ribbons, he answered, “Because we cared for Ron Hills, he took the time; we’ll always remember that Ron took the time.”

Hernandez said the Burger King workers had also put up two signs that read, “Enthusiasm and professionalism marked his watch; now with his Maker, he carries on – in memory of Officer Ron Hills.”

Before Chief Hernandez spoke, the Rev. Paul Wilson of the First Baptist Church of Farmersville remembered Hills as a husband and a father. “Ron left a legacy behind, folks; Ron will be missed.” Wilson stated, “Today we’ve gathered together as a community and as fellow officers to remember, as well as the family, the memory of Ronald Hills. His dedication to his family and his dedication to the community since he was one of our public servants.

“As a grateful community we want to say thank you to Ron for the many years of faithful service to us and yet at the same time we have to say that no greater love has a man than he’ll lay down his life for his community.”

Officer Hills was born in Toledo, Ohio. He later attended schools in Omaha, Nebraska. He moved to Farmersville in 1986. On Sept. 12, 1991, he married Mary Lawrence in Exeter.

Officer Hills was a criminology major at College of the Sequoias. He had worked as a reserve officer for the City of Dinuba for the last two years. The last four months Hills was filling a regular shift slot with the police department.

He was active with the Dinuba Police Explorer Scouts.

He is survived by his wife, Mary Hills of Farmersville; a stepson and step-daughter, and four step-grandchildren.

“Enthusiasm and professionalism marked his watch; now with his Maker, he carries on – in memory of Officer Ron Hills.”

A California Highway Patrol officer who was shot to death July 23, 1992 after a freeway confrontation was eulogized July 28 as a man whose “kindness and gentle spirit will be remembered by everybody who came in contact with him.”

Fidel Aleman, 33, of Whittier was shot in the chest after he stepped out of his car to confront the driver of a pickup truck who had cut him off on the freeway a few miles earlier.

In his eulogy, Raul Duran, a fellow officer and longtime friend, described Aleman as a quiet and reserved cop who distinguished himself by excelling in officer safety. He loved his job, and his fellow officers loved him.

CHP Commissioner M. J. Hannigan, one of several high ranking officials at Aleman’s funeral at Grace Chapel in Inglewood Cemetery Mortuary, said after the services that Aleman’s murder was just a senseless act.

Hannigan said Aleman “stood with the few who have the strength and tenacity to hold the line against those who would destroy our society.”

Mourners packed the small, hilltop chapel. About 600 officers from law enforcement agencies throughout the state stood at attention outside, listening to the services over outdoor speakers, some fought back tears.

Aleman was shot as he drove to work at the Central Los Angeles CHP station with his fiancee, Gretchen Jacobs, who is also a CHP officer, detectives said. On the Pomona Freeway, he flashed his headlights at the driver of a speeding pickup who had cut him off.

The pickup truck driver tailed the officer, at times with his high beam headlights on, to the Santa Monica Freeway’s Pico Boulevard off-ramp. After leaving the freeway, Aleman stopped his car on Pico and stepped out. The pickup pulled up alongside, the driver pointed a shotgun through the passenger window and opened fire.

Aleman’s fiancee rushed him to the California Medical Center – Los Angeles, where he died of a gunshot wound to the chest a short time later, detectives said.

“It started out with kind of a simple confrontation on the freeway and wound up with this poor young man being shot to death on the side of the road,” CHP Southern Division Chief Edward Gomez said after the services. He appealed to the public for help in capturing Aleman’s killer.

“Someone saw what happened that night,” he said. “I know it. They need to come forward and help us.”

CHP Officer Anthony Gubler walked from the chapel after the services in dark glasses, shaken by the loss. Gubler said he and Aleman were classmates at the CHP Academy in 1984.

“Fidel was an inspiration to everyone,” he said. “Even back then he took the job seriously. He kept everyone together. If we were slipping, he would pull us up, encourage us. We were just young kids and didn’t know anything. We didn’t even know how to march, he had been in the Marines, and he taught us.”

Entering the California Highway Patrol Academy in June 1984, he completed his training and was assigned to the Central Los Angeles Area. Recognizing Aleman’s knowledge of the department’s goals and objectives, his supervisors assigned him numerous duties including: field training officer, physical methods of arrest instructor; impaired driver task force member; and protective services detail member.

These duties enabled him to impart his wisdom to younger officers and to sharpen the skills of veteran officers. He served all seven years of his CHP career in the Central Los Angeles station.

Aleman was divorced and the father of two girls, Jessica, 6, and Jasmine, 3. He is also survived by his fiancee, parents, Erasmo and Zoraida Aleman, two older brothers, Rick Cerezo and Frank Aleman, and two younger sisters, Margaret Smith and Nelly Carlise.

Maywood buried its first slain police officer June 4, 1992, in an intensely personal ceremony befitting its 34-member police force and the affable, small-town ways of Officer John A. Hoglund.

The funeral – attended by hundreds of friends, relatives, and uniformed officers – also became a statement of police solidarity as the mourners in Downey’s Calvary Chapel were reminded of the politically tense and often hostile times in which Hoglund was killed.

“This year has not been unmarked by tragedy and today, we in law enforcement bond together as one large family,” said former Maywood officer Steve Nagy, one of two friends who eulogized Hoglund as a devoted patrolman and practical joker with a dry sense of humor.

“Don’t allow society to divide us,” Nagy pleaded in his eulogy, as dignitaries such as Los Angeles Police Chief Daryl F. Gates, Sheriff Sherman Block and District Attorney Ira Reiner looked on.

Hoglund, 47, was fatally shot May 29, 1992 when he responded to a silent alarm and encountered five armed robbers fleeing a neighborhood market. He had been riding alone – as patrol officers typically do in the small city seven miles south of downtown Los Angeles – and had no chance to draw his gun.

A 16-year police veteran who left accounting because he loved the streets more than numbers, Hoglund is the first officer shot to death in the line-of-duty in the Maywood Police Department’s 68-year history.

Three men have been charged with murder and robbery in Hoglund’s death and were being held without bail while sheriff’s deputies hunt for two more suspects.

Even in deceptively safe Maywood, Hoglund was aware of his job’s risks but still found the work irresistible, a friend and co-worker told mourners.

“There’s a love only a police officer can experience and savor – the love he has for the streets,” said Sgt. Ed Robison, his voice breaking. “This lover can be cruel and harsh. She will knock you down, beat you up, and make you come back to it day-after-day.”

“Last Friday, John Hoglund put on his badge and his gun and went out to meet his lover for the last time.”

But Robison and Nagy drew laughter as well as tears as they recalled the antics of the officer nicknamed Hogie. At times, Hoglund’s mother, three daughters and fiancee smiled and nodded as they sat together, holding hands.

A tireless worker who wrote so many traffic tickets that he was called Maywood’s secret weapon, Hoglund once chased three armed bandits down the Long Beach Freeway at such a rapid speed that he left Robison and other officers far behind. Then he got on his car radio and quipped, “It sure is getting lonely out here.”

“That was Hogie – cool and calm in the face of crisis,” Robison said. “If there’s any consolation to this tragedy it is knowing that Hogie died doing what he loved to do… He was a good cop.”

Nagy recalled a time when Hoglund’s co-workers paid him back for a practical joke by sewing shut his uniform’s pant legs and sleeves and then watching as he struggled to get dressed to rush off to a prearranged “emergency call.”

Though Hoglund’s funeral drew 2,500 mourners and bore the trappings of a formal police burial – solemn officers from around the state, police badges covered by black bands, a 500-vehicle procession – it was also marked by home-spun simplicity.

“I didn’t want to make this speech and still don’t,” said Ted Heidke, Maywood’s police chief. “This has been a very difficult time at Maywood,” he said. “We’re a very small department. We’re all really, truly a family.”

When Heidke presented Hoglund’s mother, Dorothy, with the flag that draped his coffin, she touched the chief’s cheek. Hoglund is also survived by his three daughters, Jeanette, 27; Deana, 22; and Laura, 19; and his fiancee, Theresa French, of Azusa.