Sacramento Police Officer Michael David Gartrell loved the moment when he could turn on the overhead lights and do what he was paid to do: catch the bad guy.

But Gartrell, who was killed during a pursuit on April 25, 1991, was more than a cop who loved the chase. He was eulogized as a sensitive, funny, and hard-working person.

“He loved his job, the department, the chase,” said fellow Officer Steve Kiehn. “No matter what, he felt he was going to catch that guy. But what he loved more was his family,” he said.

For more than an hour, 450 police and 200 family and friends took time to remember Gartrell.

He was remembered as a diligent officer, a teller of corny jokes, a rider of Harley’s. and a sentimentalist who never forgot birthdays.

Gartrell, 37, died instantly when his patrol car smashed into a concrete abutment during a pursuit of a suspected drunk driver.

The 20-year-old driver of the fleeing car was arrested and charged with murder, felony drunk driving, evading arrest, and being under the influence of a controlled substance.

Gartrell apparently attempted to pull the driver over in a routine traffic stop as the suspect drove out of an apartment complex without his headlights on. Instead the driver sped away. “From the time he started the pursuit and put out the call, we’re only talking seconds. Probably within a minute, he was in the collision,” CHP spokesman Rick Sullivan said. Gartrell’s pursuit covered less than a mile.

Two responding Sacramento County Sheriff’s Department units took over. One stopped at the accident scene, and the other kept after the suspect, who authorities say took a dizzying spin up and down several nearby streets.

The chase ended when the driver lost control of his car and smashed into a pole. The pursuing deputy then rammed his patrol car into the Cutlass to prevent the driver from fleeing, he said.

In a scene that has become familiar at the funerals for officers who die in the line of duty, there was a sea of blue and green. Officers from a dozen jurisdictions filed by his casket.

But before they paid their last respects, buddies from his department spoke about the likable nature of Gartrell, who was an officer in Hawaii before moving to Sacramento.

Although he had the opportunity to leave the graveyard shift, he preferred to stay. Being home during the day allowed him to help his stepdaughter Dana Austin with school projects. He also wanted Sundays off to ride motorcycles with his wife, Bethany. “He was thrilled to have a wife that rode a Harley,” said Kiehn.

Kiehn said that It was in Gartrell’s nature to give, even though at times “he presented this rough-and-tough image of a macho cop.”

Sacramento Police Officer Steve Reese said Gartrell did not shun difficult or dangerous work. “On that morning, he could have let that car go,” Reese told the crowd, which included Mayor Anne Rudin and Councilman Joe Serna. “He could have closed his eyes. But he was not like that. He was a professional.”

Sgt. Larry Chavez recalled that Gartrell worked for him when he first came to Sacramento: “He was not only a hard-working officer, he had a great sense of humor. Very reliable and absolutely trustworthy.”

Chavez said that Gartrell was especially good at calming down domestic quarrels and neighborhood fights. “He dealt with conflict really well. He helped iron things out.”

Gartrell had been employed by the Sacramento Police Department since Oct. 9, 1985, when he was hired as a reserve officer. He was appointed as a community service officer on Sept. 12, 1987, and was promoted to police officer on April 16, 1988.

An El Dorado County Sheriff’s Deputy was killed February 26, 1991.  He was responding to a call for service when his patrol vehicle failed to negotiate a curve and crashed into a tree near Diamond Springs in Northern California.

Deputy Michael Cole, age 33, was pronounced dead at the scene. Lieutenant James Roloff, El Dorado County Sheriff’s Department, said a citizen passing the crash site called 911 to report the accident.

Deputy Cole Joined the Sheriff’s Department on August 4, 1990, after working for the Oxnard Police Department for 10 years.

“He loved the area… We both felt it was a great place to raise our kids,” said fellow Deputy Tony Campagna.

“He was a real nice guy, a great big guy too,” added Lt. Roloff. “He wasn’t with us long. He was always real up, and friendly. That is rare in this type of work.”

Born April 16, 1957 at Nellis Air Force Base, Las Vegas, NV, he graduated from Hueneme High School. Cole began his law enforcement career as a cadet, explorer, and was a reserve officer with the Oxnard Police Department for two years, donating more than 1,200 hours of his own time. He was appointed a regular officer in May 1980.  In 1989, Cole was nominated for the Oxnard Officer of the Year award, sponsored by the South Oxnard Kiwanis Club, for outstanding service to the Police Department and the community. He was a member of the Santa Clara Catholic Church, active in the parish and elementary school.

He was also active in Easter Seals of Ventura County. Cole was a member of PORAC, Oxnard POA, Ventura Co. POA, and El Dorado Co. DSA.

Deputy Cole is survived by his wife, Lori; three sons, Robert, 9, Gregory, 5, and Christopher. 3, at the family home in Pollock Pines; and a brother, Joseph of Santa Barbara.

Tina Kerbrat, the first woman Los Angeles police officer killed in the line of duty, was buried following a poignant funeral in which her children presented some of their favorite toys as a final gift to their mother.

As their father fought to constrain his grief, 3-year-old Nicole and 6-year-old Craig offered a baby doll and a “Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtle” as part of the gifting tradition of the Catholic Mass.

About 3,500 mourners, mostly uniformed officers, jammed St. John Baptist de la Salle Church in Granada Hills and overflowed outside to say goodbye to their fallen comrade, who was shot Monday, Feb. 11, 1991, while on patrol duty.

Los Angeles Archbishop Roger Mahony presided over the service, offering words of comfort for Kerbrat’s husband and children and praise for the police officers who face a “tremendous level of violence” on the city’s streets each day.

“It is very deep sadness we all feel in our hearts today,” Mahony said. “It isn’t Just one family minus a wife and a mother, but all of us who feel the pain of her loss.”

Looking out at the hundreds of police officers gathered for the ceremony, Mahony added: “As you patrol the killing streets of Los Angeles, all of us owe you incredible gratitude…”

“We, as a community, have not done what is necessary to make our streets, houses, neighbors, friends, and children safe,” he said. “We have failed all of you. Until all of our citizens are filled with deep enough resolve… it is unfair for us to expect you to find the mysterious solution to these problems.”

“We must walk with our heads lowered in shame,” Mahony said.

Kerbrat’s husband Tim, a Los Angeles city fire inspector, clutched his daughter on his lap during the ceremony, while Craig sat on the lap of a fellow firefighter.

Kerbrat, 34, a rookie officer assigned to the North Hollywood Division, was shot in the head as she and her partner made a routine stop in Sun Valley to question two men suspected of drinking in public.

Kerbrat’s partner, Officer Earl Valladares, killed the gunman, 32-year-old Jose Amaya, whom police described as an illegal immigrant from El Salvador.

Officer Kerbrat was the second Los Angeles Police Department officer in four months to be gunned down by an alien marked for deportation by the Immigration and Naturalization Service.

“Tina treasured her family,” said police Chaplain Simon Garcia, who delivered the eulogy. “She shared her love, her hopes, her dreams with her husband, and she was hopelessly devoted to her children.” Tina is also survived by her mother, Beverly Zapata, grandfather, Frank Barrett, brothers, Daniel Zapata, John Zapata, Frank Zapata, and sisters, Elaine Ohara and Monique Aston.

The Rev. Christian Van Liefde, a city fire Department chaplain who married the Kerbrat’s and baptized their two children, remembered the slain officer as a woman of deep love, faith, and strength.

“In many a locker room and police station, we have silently wept many tears,” Van Liefde said. “She touched so many lives in the parish and in her love for neighbors and friends.”

Mourners stood stone-faced as law enforcement officers saluted the casket, which was carried to the hearse by six white-gloved police pallbearers. Mayor Tom Bradley and City Council members attended the funeral.

After the funeral Mass, 185 police-driven motorcycles and scores of patrol cars wound their way to San Fernando Mission Cemetery.

At the cemetery, three mounted policemen and a riderless horse – symbolizing the fallen police officer – led the procession to the grave site.

A bagpiper played “Amazing Grace,” and four police helicopters flew overhead. Later, officers honored their slain colleague with a 21-gun salute and a mournful playing of “Taps.”

More than 700 law enforcement officers from throughout California gathered in Camarillo to pay tribute to a 34-year-old Ventura County CHP officer who was killed Nov. 15, 1990 when a car struck his motorcycle.

James Christopher O’Connor was remembered by friends and fellow officers at his funeral services as a friendly man with a dry wit and a calm manner. The six-year veteran of the California Highway Patrol often helped officers with less experience, said Sgt. Dane Hayward, O’Connor’s good friend and his supervising officer.

O’Connor also assisted motorists in changing tires and doggedly pursued accident investigations. But O’Connor was known most for his motorcycle prowess, Hayward said in his eulogy. “There was a standing line that he might not be able to get out of the parking lot in a car without hitting something, but put him on a cycle, and he could get across the Grand Canyon on a tightrope,” Hayward said. It was that grace on the motorcycle that made his death so ironic, Hayward said.

O’Connor died as he and three fellow officers were returning from a motorcycle training session in Santa Maria, CHP officials said. “A few minutes later, his ride was over,” Hayward said. O’Connor was riding in the left rear position of a box formation with the other officers on California 154 outside Santa Ynez when a car veered into the path of the motorcyclists, officials said.

Three officers managed to swerve, but O’Connor was struck head-on and thrown 60 feet, his helmet knocked loose by the impact, the CHP said. He was dead on arrival at Santa Ynez Valley Hospital.

The driver of the car, Ella Harrison, 78, of Solvang, and her husband, Frederick, 79, suffered minor injuries. Mrs. Harrison was not cited in the incident.

O’Connor joined the CHP in late 1982 and was assigned to western San Fernando Valley. He worked there with his wife, Carla, also a CHP officer, until he was transferred to Ventura County in August, 1989.

Carla O’Connor and her three children Evelyn Bittner, 10, Elaine Bittner, 11, and Elizabeth Bittner, 15, were joined by about 100 friends and relatives at the St. Mary Magdalen Church for the funeral services.

O’Connor is the fourth CHP officer in Ventura County to be killed in the line of duty, CHP Officer Jim Utter said.

Shot near the heart, off-duty Los Angeles Police Dept. homicide Detective Russell Kuster fired seven times and killed a man who threatened patrons in a Universal City restaurant and then died himself Oct. 9, 1990.

Kuster, 50, had once booked the gunman, Bela Istvan Marko, 37, on suspicion of murder in another shootout, but it was unclear if the detective recognized him during the incident at the Hilltop Hungarian Restaurant.

Police said Marko had an argument with the restaurant owner, who told him to leave. Marko, a twice-convicted illegal Hungarian immigrant, got a 9mm semiautomatic pistol from a rented Mercedes-Benz and returned to the restaurant where he flashed its laser beam sights at patrons of the cocktail lounge, police said. When Kuster identified himself as an officer and ordered Marko to put down his gun, Marko fired at Kuster, hitting him four times, police said. Falling to the floor, Kuster fired back, hitting Marko in and the head.

“You’ve got an experienced police detective with 24 1/2 years experience, very close to retirement, who did a very brave thing,” said Capt. Rick Dinse, Hollywood Division commander. “Who knows if he didn’t sacrifice his life for the other people in the bar.”

Kuster, a 24-year LAPD veteran assigned to Hollywood Division, was pronounced dead at St. Joseph Medical Center in Burbank about an hour after the shooting, police said.

Police officers wore black elastic bands across their badges. and flags throughout Los Angeles flew at half-mast to honor Kuster.

Kuster, who lives near the restaurant, was there with a neighbor, “enjoying himself and suddenly called to duty that quickly . . . risking his life over nothing, just nothing,” Police Chief Daryl F Gates said at a news conference. It’s particularly tragic because here’s a man who’s been dealing with murderers for the last 18 years,” Gates said. “So he’s faced danger day in, day out.”

As an off-duty officer, Kuster was under no obligation to intercede, Gates said. “But when you get into a situation like that, there isn’t any choice. There might be something some would do to try to get out of there quickly. But not a man like Kuster,” he said. “If you have your heart blown apart you’ve got six seconds to react, and certainly, within those six seconds, he did indeed react.”

Gates described Kuster, a homicide detective for 18 years who worked the John Belushi drug overdose death, as a “consummate police officer,” a “very, very fine detective and a very fine man.”

Kuster’s success at solving murders and training other detectives earned him the respect of officers throughout the department. “Before I ever went to the Hollywood bureau, Russ was known to me by reputation,” said Lt. Bob Ruchhoft, Kuster’s commanding officer since February. “He produced the best detectives in town.”

Kuster is survived by his wife, Sue, his parents, two brothers, and a sister. Kuster was born in Kentucky, moved to Dilisboro, Ind., and graduated from Indiana University. He served in the U.S. Marines from 1958-61 and then joined the Ventura County Sheriff’s Department. He entered the Los Angeles Police Academy in 1966.

In 1985, Gates sent a letter to Kuster commending him for the Hollywood homicide division’s 93 percent clearance rate, saying he was “impressed with the morale, dedication, and accomplishments” of his unit. Kuster also helped develop a homicide information, tracking, and management computer program, known as HITMAN. The program earned nationwide acclaim and was adopted department-wide.

Sheriff’s Deputy Paul R. Bush was a burly weight lifter, but he often used his easy charm instead of muscle in defusing confrontations on the street. Yet, it appears the veteran lawman had little chance to speak to the young man he pulled over on a routine traffic stop Sept. 12, 1990. Investigators believe that Bush had just got Oscar Romero’s drivers license when the man pulled a gun and began blazing away. In seconds, both men lay dying on the ground.

Family and friends recalled the 37-year-old San Jose man as a dedicated, streetwise deputy who never let the difficulty of police work sour his giddy lust for life. “He realized there was a significant amount of danger to what he was doing, but he always considered himself very careful in what he did,” said Scotts Valley police Capt. Tom Bush, one of the deputy’s three brothers.

“He had such an ability to interact with people that he felt he could pretty much talk his way out of any situation. He could talk to people in all walks of life.”

Bush was a 12-year veteran who had enjoyed working a variety of assignments, including a six-year patrol stint, plain-clothes duty tracking down fugitives, and a tour as a jailer.

He occasionally wore a bulletproof vest, but wasn’t using one when he was wounded twice in the chest and once in the hip and the leg, said sheriff’s Sgt. Ken Dahn. Use of vests is voluntary in the department.

Bush’s death seemed doubly cruel, coming just eight months after he and wife, Colleen, celebrated the birth of their first child, Brett. “The son was the highlight of his life,” Tom Bush said as relatives gathered at the Soquel home of his parents, Charles and Isabelle Bush. “For the past eight months, all he could talk about was his son and his wife.”

Another brother, Steve Bush, said he felt “just tremendous anger” when he heard the news of his brother’s death. “You want to hit something,” he said.

At the sheriff’s department, a somber mood muffled the typically informal atmosphere.

Issie Mosunic, a warrants clerk who worked with Bush, said, “He was always happy, always kidding around. He always treated me like his mom. He was just a real caring, loving individual.”

Despite their sorrow, many friends smiled when asked what they remembered about Bush. He was a guy with a mischievous streak and a winning wit.

Sgt. Bill Cordoni, who supervised Bush when he worked in the warrants division, recalled the slain deputy as a happy-go-lucky guy’ who “used to pull all kinds of practical jokes on the guys.” Once, when a detective reneged on a promise, Bush and his partner filled their colleague’s car with styrofoam pellets, Cordoni recalled.

Bush was born in Long Beach and moved with his family to San Jose in the early 1960s. He graduated in 197l from Branham High School and attended West Valley and Cabrillo colleges, where he played football. He Joined the sheriff’s department in 1978. Bush loved classical music and was fascinated by Civil War history, taking his wife to visit historic sites while on vacation.

Sheriff Charles Gillingham said Bush’s work file is thick with letters of praise from citizens lauding his “great sensitivity and understanding of the situation” and his “kindness and thoroughness.” “He was an excellent officer for us,” Gillingham said. “His evaluations were always exceptional. It’s a real sad day for all of us.

Colorful eulogies echoed in the church.
Solemn banners fluttered along sidewalks.
White-gloved hands saluted crisply.
Chubby young fingers clutched American flags.

In ways planned and spontaneous, formal and casual, more than 3,300 people said goodbye to one of Orange County’s favorite police officers.

Tommy DeLaRosa, 43, was killed June 21, 1990 during an undercover attempt to sell suspected drug dealers what he promised would be $4 million worth of cocaine. Eight people have been charged with conspiracy to sell drugs and murder.

The wife, children, and colleagues DeLaRosa left behind were among those who jammed the First Evangelical Free Church of Fullerton. Most of the mourners were law enforcement officers, their badges partially covered by black mourning tape.

The officers, 2,500 of them, came in squad cars, buses, and vans from all over Orange County and much of Southern California. A large contingent drove in from Downey, where DeLaRosa died. As they filed into the church, the officers formed columns of navy blue, olive drab, and khaki, their black hat brims glinting like obsidian in the sun. Into the pews beside them came civilian adults and children and a group of men who, as did DeLaRosa, fought in Vietnam.

Priests prayed and an organ groaned during the service. DeLaRosa’s friends took most of the hour, reading eulogies that made the mourners cry and smile by turns.

“Tommy DeLaRosa was a great man, an outstanding dope cop,” Sgt. Joe Klein, a close friend and former partner of DeLaRosa, told the mourners. Klein said DeLaRosa wore many hats besides that of narcotics officer. “He was a great friend and partner, a husband, father, uncle, cousin, grandfather,” Klein said. “The most important thing in his life was his family,” he said, gazing at DeLaRosa’s three children and his widow, Leslie.

Off-duty, DeLaRosa liked to drive into neighborhoods heavy with drugs, gangs, and prostitution and speak to children. He would urge them to be good and stay in school, then give them money for ice cream or candy.

On duty, DeLaRosa “always liked to work the most-dangerous, the most-challenging areas of town,” Klein said. In his nine-year police career, DeLaRosa was “a ferocious, gallant warrior,” Klein said. “He was the best drug cop there ever was. The best anybody ever could be.”

Decrying the “ruthlessness” under which DeLaRosa died, Klein said the fallen officer was responsible for thousands of drug-related arrests and millions of dollars in drug seizures and drug-related property seizures.

On June 21, DeLaRosa faced every cop’s nightmare, said police officer and ordained minister Mike Fields. His attempted “reverse sting” operation got “out of control.” “We can take comfort in the fact that there is someone in control,” Fields said. “And that someone, God, has taken Tommy into his ultimate control.”

Monsignor John Sammon, considered the unofficial chaplain of all Orange County law enforcement officers, urged DeLaRosa’s colleagues not to feel guilty about what happened. “You did everything you could” he said. Now, he said, they must move beyond grief. “You should use Tommy as your standard of law enforcement. Our brother Tommy has gone to his peace with Christ,” he told mourners.

At 4:15 p.m. Saturday, June 16, 1990, Jim McKnight – fresh out of law school and full of hope – became the first officer in more than a decade to be killed in the line-of-duty in Yolo County. McKnight, a West Sacramento police officer, was shot during a drug raid Friday, June 15, in the rural Yolo County community of Madison.

After spending years working the graveyard shift and attending McGeorge School of law during the day, he had graduated in 1989 and was studying for the bar exam, friends said. “He talked about taking the bar exam,” said Officer Bruce Huddler, who worked with McKnight. “His wheel was complete – all the spokes were there.”

After working a full day, he went on overtime with the Yolo County Narcotics Enforcement Team, which split up to serve warrants at four houses believed to be part of a cocaine distribution ring. Luis Orosco barricaded himself in a back bedroom. He reportedly began firing at police about 6:30 p.m. as McKnight and other officers tried to get into the room. They fired back. Orosco, who was mentally handicapped, according to his family. was killed. McKnight was shot in the head, and another officer was shot in the wrist and chest.

Officers immediately began flooding into the police station. They were continuing to come together when they were told of his death at an afternoon briefing.

West Sacramento Police Chief Barry Kalar began making plans for a memorial for the two-year-old city’s first officer killed in the line of duty. “It’s one of the realities of police work that a police chief hopes he never has to deal with. Especially in a small department, it’s like an extended family,” Kalar said. He described McKnight as dedicated, reliable, and well-liked by everyone.

McKnight’s father, Peter McKnight, a retired Presbyterian minister living in Sacramento, said that his son “had a positive attitude about life. He was a very happy-go-lucky person.” Before joining the new city force, McKnight worked for the Yolo County Sheriff’s Office for eight years. He also worked for the Woodland Police Department and was a police officer in Hawaii.

“He always wanted to be a police officer, even as a small child. We’re very happy he could be a police officer for the past 15 years.” Peter McKnight said his son had his life in order, but “seemed to live without fear that each day might be his last.” “I hope this is something that will be seen by all people. It’s good to have our house in order before death knocks,” he said.

Officer Martin Flatley, president of the West Sacramento Police Officers Association, said McKnight wanted to use his law degree “to better himself, expand his horizons.”

McKnight’s buddy and former coworker, John Guthmiller, recalled their days as Yolo County deputy sheriffs and some hair-raising pursuits. Now a police officer in Williams, Colusa County, Guthmiller heard about the shooting at work. “I heard the news on the scanner. You want to talk about a sickening. helpless feeling,” said Guthmiller, who has known McKnight for nine years and worked with him in the Yolo County Jail.

Officer McKnight is survived by three loving children Robert, Heidi, and Kevin McKnight.

Commander Isiah Nelson, a highly regarded police official considered to be a rising star in the city’s law-enforcement bureaucracy, died in a motorcycle crash on a portion of Interstate 280 closed for earthquake repairs. He was 40.

Mayor Art Agnos ordered city flags lowered to half-staff in honor of the 19-year Police Department veteran, who was killed April 14, 1990 returning from Candlestick Park. Cmdr. Nelson recently had been commended for his role in the evacuation of Candlestick after the Oct. 17 earthquake.

There was a moment of silence for Cmdr. Nelson at the Giants’ game following his death.

The mayor called him “a brilliant police officer whose professional future had no limits.” Amos’ comments were echoed by Cmdr. Nelson’s fellow officers and others who knew him. The mayor said: “Isiah’s sudden and tragic death has shocked and deeply saddened all of us who knew and respected him.

“He was the embodiment of the new generation of leadership in the Police Department and a model for anyone who wanted to be a police officer. The entire city joins his wife and family in mourning his death.”

According to police reports, Cmdr. Nelson died in a solo crash of his motorcycle at 12:15 am. He was en route to the Hall of Justice from Candlestick Park where he had been on duty in connection with the game between the Giants and San Diego Padres. His bike crashed into a cement barrier on the closed freeway near 25th Street.

Police sources who were at the scene said Cmdr. Nelson apparently went around one of the barriers, which do not span all the lanes, but are set in a maze and require a vehicle to weave through them. After negotiating that barrier, he apparently ran into trouble.

Assistant Police Chief Willis Casey said officers on motorcycles use the closed section of the interstate because they believe it is safer than dodging traffic on Highway 101.

Cmdr. Nelson, who was 36 when he was promoted to the rank of commander, was the youngest officer and the first black to serve in that rank in the department. He wore badge No. 869 and was nicknamed “Ike.”

Sgt. Jerry Senkir, a spokesperson for the department, said he had known Cmdr. Nelson since he was a Police Athletic League cadet at the Northern Station. “This was his career. He prepared himself to move through the ranks. He went to school. . . He was a well-respected and much beloved officer. I never heard anyone say anything bad about Ike.”

Cmdr. Nelson headed the department’s burglary detail before he was promoted to commander of field operations in 1986. In later reorganizations he was given charge of the special operations bureau. At the time of his death, he oversaw the First Patrol Division, which covers Central, Southern, and Potrero stations. For the last two years, he was in charge of security for Giants’ and 49ers’ games.

“Every job we ever gave him, he put his heart into it 100 percent,” Assistant Chief Casey said. “He went through several reorganizations, and each time he got a new job, and each time he did one hell of a job. He had a bright future.” Cmdr. Nelson once told an Examiner reporter that “the ethics my father and mother instilled in me” helped him to excel. “I always try to do what’s right,” he said. “I learned early in this job that no matter what you do you can’t please everyone, so I do what’s best for San Francisco.”

Cmdr. Nelson is survived by his wife, Dorian, and their two children, Gabriel, 8, and Anthony, 11 months.