Clifford E. Sanchez

Deputy Clifford E. Sanchez was shot and killed Saturday, April 6, 1985, during a robbery in a parking lot behind a cocktail lounge, police said.

Offices were looking for two men in the killing of Sanchez, 28, who was shot three times in the head and the torso. The gunmen escaped with Sanchez’s revolver, Deputy Mario Lupercio said.

“The victim was robbed and shot to death while sitting with a female companion in the victim’s pickup truck,” a sheriff’s statement said.

Sgt. Wayne Smith denied reports that the gunman shot Sanchez after he opened his wallet and realized Sanchez was a law enforcement officer.

“From our interviews, we don’t know if they saw his ID or not,” Smith said. Sanchez had his wallet with him, but it was not found.

The woman was not hurt.

Christopher Caldwell, 18, and Cedric Davis, 21, were arrested and charged in the incident.

Sanchez of Rialto had been with the Sheriff’s Department six years, assigned since October 1981 to the central jail division. He previously worked in the Fontana substation and at the Glen Helen Rehabilitation Center.

Sanchez is survived by his parents, Larry and Joan Sanchez; and sons, Larry and Anthony. Sanchez’s father is an 18-year veteran of the California Highway Patrol.

David W. Copleman

Officer David W. Copleman was killed during the pursuit of a speeding motorcyclist on State Route 126 in east Ventura County. Copleman initiated the pursuit of a speeding motorcycle and was joined by two Ventura sheriff’s units and a Fillmore P.D. unit. All four law enforcement units had lights and sirens activated when an oncoming van swerved into opposing traffic lanes to avoid rear-ending another vehicle and struck the CHP unit head-on. Copleman, 27, died at the scene and the van occupants sustained major injuries. The speeding motorcyclist was stopped and arrested by Fillmore police on suspicion of vehicular man slaughter and reckless driving causing injury.

After graduating from the CHP Academy, Copleman served in the Ventura area. He had been with the department for two and a half years.

Funeral services were conducted April 12 at Joshua Memorial Cemetery.

Copleman is survived by his wife, Arlene, and children, LaJetta, 9, and Brandon, 4.

Thomas E. Riggs

Police Chief Bill Kolender told an overflow crowd at the First United Methodist Church that “once again I must try to find words that can make sense out of a senseless situation.”

Addressing survivors of the family of slain police Agent Thomas Edward Riggs, 27, Kolender, in his eulogy, said: “Six months ago in this church I promised the family of Tom Riggs, as we gathered to honor the memory of his brother-in-law, Tim Ruopp, that they would never have to face a greater pain in their lives than the pain they were feeling at Tim’s loss.

“But that turned out to be a promise that could not be kept, and today we are mourning the death of Tom.”

The funeral procession for Riggs began at 8 a.m. when hundreds of peace officers from across the country amassed at San Diego Jack Murphy Stadium.

Local, state, and federal law enforcement officers, as well as military personnel, were attired in dress uniforms. Kolender led the procession into the church for the 11 a.m. service after meeting a motorcade that stretched a mile, from the stadium to the church on Camino del Rio South in Mission Valley.

Riggs, who was killed during a melee in Encanto Sunday, March 31, was the 26th San Diego police officer killed in the line of duty since 1933.

The Rev. H.W. Mitschke, pastor of Our Redeemer Lutheran Church in Southeast San Diego and a police chaplain, conducted the service for Riggs in the crowded church.

The chief told mourners that at the Police Academy classmates remembered Riggs as a leader, someone who was always willing to help others.

Riggs was assigned to Southeast San Diego and worked there throughout his career that began in 1979, the chief said.

“He didn’t want to work anywhere else,” Kolender said, adding that even people he arrested had respect for him.

“Tom didn’t give up,” Kolender said. “If there was a job to be done, he did it. In fact, his partners frequently heard him say ‘Let’s just get the job done.’ Getting the job done was Tom’s philosophy of police work. He loved the job and always looked forward to coming to work. Friends remember his cheerful attitude. He was always happy and his good attitude was contagious.”

Kolender said Riggs was never afraid to live his beliefs. “He wasn’t afraid to die for them. We must not, we will not, let his death have been in vain.”

Afterward, the mourners proceeded to the Evergreen Section of Greenwood Memorial Park for a cemetery service. The I-805 freeway was closed to traffic in all southbound lanes for the motorcade to Greenwood. Cremation was to be conducted, with internment in Greenwood Mausoleum.

City Manager Ray Blair and Deputy City Manager Sue Williams were among the 500 witnesses at the cemetery committal, where a Navy rifle team composed of seven women and one man fired three volleys to give a 21-gun salute, and a navy bugler played taps.

Later, an American flag was removed from Riggs’ silver-colored coffin. Eight police officers that served as pallbearers folded the flag, which was given to Riggs’ wife by Kolender. A California state flag was also presented to her.

Riggs was the son of retired police sergeant Charles Riggs, and the brother-in-law of Timothy Ruopp, one of two police officers shot and killed in Balboa Park last September by a man who was being issued a citation for a routine drinking misdemeanor.

Michael O. Lewis

On March 30, 1985, San Bernardino County D.A. Investigator Michael O. Lewis was driving through Flagstaff, Arizona, returning from conducting a follow-up homicide investigation in Indianapolis, Indiana. While driving in a heavy rainstorm, Investigator Lewis lost control of his car and the vehicle overturned. Investigator Lewis died of injuries sustained in the collision.

Investigator Lewis is survived by his wife, Lynn, as well as his daughter and his son.

Robert A. White

A freak traffic accident January 27 involving a pickup truck and Pacific Gas & Electric Co. equipment caused the San Jose Police Department’s first death in the line of duty in 15 years.

Patrolman Robert A. White, 25, died after coming into contact with 12,000 volts of electricity while investigating the situation, he somehow was exposed to the current.

Police Chief Joseph McNamara, who visited the scene shortly after the accident, said it was difficult to determine how White came into contact with the electricity.

“We may never know what really happened,” McNamara said. “All we can say is that it looks like the current hit him and knocked him on his back.

“We’re talking about a tremendously powerful transmitter. He may not have even touched it.”

The equipment involved is called a pad-mounted sectioning switch, which is used to preserve some power if a blackout occurs in the surrounding area, a PG&E spokesman said. The switch, which controls the current, sits inside a 3-foot-square metal box that is mounted on a concrete stand.

The PG&E spokesman said the impact of the truck cracked the metal box, exposing a series of wires carrying 12,000 volts.

Chief McNamara called White a “fine officer, who was competent and quiet, but well-liked by his peers.”

White is the fifth San Jose police officer to die in the line of duty and the first since 19709. The bachelor, who had been on the force two years, also is believed to be the youngest.

Funeral services were held at the First Baptist Church of San Jose. Followed by interment at the Oak Hill Cemetery.

Duane C. Johnson

Officer Duane C. Johnson, 27, a three-year veteran of the Los Angeles Police Department, was slain in a gun battle with the robbers of a Chinatown jewelry store Dec. 19, 1984.

He was the first Los Angeles Police Department officer to die in the line of duty during 1984, and the third to die in Chinatown in the past 14 months.

At the time of his death, Johnson’s wife, Kathleen, was pregnant with the couple’s first child.

Approximately 2,000 mourners attended the slain officer’s funeral, including his twin brother, Dana, a Virginia Beach, VA police officer, and an older brother, Steven, a police officer in Jamestown, New York.

Johnson said he and his brother, who joined their respective forces on the same day, gave 100 percent effort whether competing in high school track, or finding a lost dog for a citizen. “Life is too short to expect less than that.”

“We put our heart and soul into everything, (because) everything matters,” he said. Johnson was described as a “6-foot-4, 240 pound teddy bear” with a passion for the tuba and devoted to his wife of two years.

Johnson had told his wife he wanted to be remembered as a musician, a Marine and a police officer.

Leading the funeral cortege was a riderless horse and a team of officers on horseback, followed by several hundred officers on motorcycles or in patrol cars.

In addition to police Chief Daryl Gates, other officials paying their respects to Officer Johnson included Los Angeles Mayor Tom Bradley, District Attorney Ira Reiner, City Councilman Gilbert Lindsay, Sheriff Sherman Block and Police Commissioners Barbara Schlei and Bert Boeckmann.

KILLER SENTENCED
Los Angeles Times
By Edwin Chen, Times Staff Writer

A contrite Hau Cheong (Peter) Chan, convicted of second-degree murder in the 1984 killing of a Los Angeles police officer during a Chinatown robbery attempt, was given a state prison term of 38 years to life Sept. 27, 1987.

The sentencing by Superior Court Judge Jean Matusinka capped 1 ½ days of acrimonious wrangling between Chan’s defense attorneys and prosecutor Lawrence Longo over the contents of Chan’s probation report.

That report, still to be completed, would serve as a key document for the state Board of Prison Terms when the time comes to consider Chan for parole, which could occur in about 22 years, according to lawyers in the case.

Archie Nagao, the Los Angeles police officer who was shot but survived the shoot-out, attended the court session, wearing a knit shirt and slacks on a day of vacation. He said Chan’s sentence was “better than nothing.”

Seconds later, as those in the courtroom began to disperse, Officer Nagao and Leslie Abramson, one of Chan’s lawyers, had a sharp exchange that ended with Nagao saying acidly to Abramson, “He’s alive.”

“So are you,” Abramson replied.

“But Duane isn’t,” Nagao answered, referring to his dead partner, Duane Johnson. Nagao then turned and walked out of the courtroom.

Chan had been scheduled for sentencing last month, but Matusinka postponed it after Abramson complained that the probation report contained numerous errors and omissions. Abramson said the report contained “quadruple levels of hearsay going back 12 years.”

Matusinka agreed that the report was “very, very one-sided.” And after sentencing Chan, she order the County Probation Department to prepare a new report, with assistance from Longo as well as from the defense.

Edward J. Burch

Los Angeles Community College District Police Department Officer Edward J. Burch was struck and killed by a car on a rainy night while crossing Victory Boulevard next to Los Angeles Pierce College. He had assisted a student who was locked out of his car and was returning to the main campus when he was struck.

Chesley A. Stephens

Officer Stephens was shot during a narotics raid.

The 31-year-old officer left behind his pregnant wife Margaret (carrying his only son; Chesley II) and their 2 1/2-year-old daughter, Shannon. Chuck was the 39th police officer to die in the line of duty since the founding of Oakland in 1867.

Timothy J. Ruopp

San Diego officers Kimberly Sue Tonahill, 24, and Timothy J. Ruopp, 31, were shot and killed on Friday, Sept. 14, 1984, while issuing a citation to a man in Balboa Park. Tonahill became the first woman to die in the line of duty in the history of the Department.

At approximately 11 p.m., Ruopp observed a vehicle parked near Balboa Park. There were four people in the car, two men and two young women; identified as Joselito Cinco, 25; Victor Casillas, 23; Gina Hensel, 16; and Dana Andreasen, 15.

The four had met at a nearby convenience store and drove to a house in East San Diego where Cinco went in alone with a black pouch. They then bought whisky and 7-Up from a liquor store and went to Balboa Park. Cinco gave the two girls “crystal” Methedrine from the black pouch. Andreasen’s nose began to bleed from “snorting” the drug and Cinco accompanied her to a bathroom nearby where he told her (after she expressed some fear of gang members) that he was carrying a gun for protection.

Ruopp, who was an ordained minister and very polite, asked the two girls how old they were, and when he learned they were underage, asked the two older men, “Isn’t it a little late for these young ladies to be out this evening? Cinco apologized and offered to drive the girls home, but Ruopp refused since it was apparent that Cinco had been drinking. At this point Ruopp removed the two underage girls from the vehicle and seated them in his police car.

Tonahill, a rookie, arrived on the scene in her patrol car to assist Ruopp, a 2-½ year veteran. He asked her to pat-down Cinco and search his car as he began writing out a misdemeanor citation against Cinco and Casillas for contributing to the delinquency of a minor. During the pat-down (but before the search neared his weapon) the 5-foot 7-inch 140-pound Cinco suddenly pushed Tonahill away, pulled a handgun, and, from a crouch position, fired at her at point-blank range. His first shot hit her between the gap of her bulletproof vest underneath her armpit. He continued pumping bullets into her as she slumped to the ground.

A Department representative reported that Tonahill and Ruopp had followed correct procedures but did not know that Cinco was wanted on several arrest warrants and had vowed that he would not return to jail even if he had to kill a cop. They obviously did not expect someone being issued a misdemeanor citation to try and kill them.

After Tonahill fell to the ground without being able to draw her weapon, Cinco turned his attention to Ruopp who was standing by his patrol car and opened fire on him before he could unholster his weapon. Ruopp was shot in the head and fell. According to witnesses at the scene, Cinco then walked over to each of the two officers and fired additional shots execution style into their bodies.

Cinco then went to the patrol car, opened the back door, and told the two frightened girls, “Let’s go.” The two girls got out of the vehicle but fled rather than join Cinco. They ran to a nearby park bench and joined a couple that was hiding behind the bench.

At this point a third San Diego officer, Gary E. Mitrovich, 26, a 4-year veteran, arrived on the scene. He heard the two officers on the radio describe the situation, as it existed before the shooting began, and decided to drive to that location. From a block away he heard gunshots and at the scene he saw two parked police vehicles but was unable to see Ruopp or Tonahill.

As he stepped from his car he saw two men in the nearby darkness. He told both to freeze, and Casillas raised his hands and said he did not have a gun. Cinco was crouching behind a car and immediately began firing at Mitrovich who returned fire. He was struck by a bullet in the left shoulder and fell to the ground. Casillas and Cinco fled the scene in different directions.

Casillas, who was not involved in the shooting and apparently wanted to distance himself from Cinco, first tried to join the two girls and the older couple hiding behind the park bench but was told by the older couple to leave. He then panicked and ran into the nearby canyon to hide. He was arrested the night of the shootings but was released within four days when it became apparent he was not involved in the killing of the officers. He had no prior record.

The wounded Mitrovich was able to radio for assistance and police and paramedics rushed to the scene. Before the paramedics arrived, a witness to the shooting, Ernest Silva, 27, ran to the shooting scene and quickly decided that Ruopp was beyond help and thus concentrated his efforts on Tonahill and attempted cardiopulmonary resuscitation on her before he was relieved by a police officer.

Mitrovich survived his injuries and on Nov. 30, 1984 was awarded the Medal of Valor, San Diego Police Department’s highest honor, for his courage.

Joselito “Gerry” Cinco, 25, of Encanto was charged with two counts of first-degree murder. He had been charged numerous times with carrying a concealed weapon, but each time, he had been released on his own recognizance and given a misdemeanor citation. Court records indicate he was never sentenced to serve time in the California penal system. He was to be arraigned on Sept. 27 for the latest incident “stemming from an arrest June 17 for carrying a concealed gun.”

Cinco had failed to appear for a January trial date on a November 1983 arrest for carrying a concealed weapon, and a bench warrant was issued for his arrest in March. However, the warrant had not been served.

Cinco was held without bond and charged with two counts of first-degree murder with special circumstances making him eligible for the death penalty. He was convicted of murder and sentenced to death but committed suicide in prison.

Tonahill was born Kimberly Sue on July 23, 1960, in La Mesa, California to David and Sharon Tonahill. She grew up in the San Diego and La Mesa areas attending the local schools and graduating from San Diego’s Patrick Henry High School in 1978. She loved sports and was voted the most valuable player on the high school field hockey team and was manager of the track team.

After high school she studied Child Development at Grossmont Community College. Her goal was to become a police officer, a desire she had held since she was a child.

Tonahill entered the San Diego Regional Law Enforcement Academy on Oct. 27, 1983, with 50 other recruits. She graduated on Feb. 29, 1984, after 16 weeks of training, and was assigned to “Beat 513” around Balboa Park in the Central Division.

A double funeral for officers Tonahill and Ruopp was held at the First United Methodist Church in Mission Valley on Tuesday, Sept. 18. More than 3,000 attended the double funeral. It was reported as the largest turnout for a funeral in the history of the city.

Rev. Mark Trotter officiated at the services and a eulogy for both officers was delivered by San Diego Police Chief William B. Kolender who noted that Kimberly, though female, was accepted (and loved) by her male peers and often socialized with them when off-duty.

Sandy Tucker, a friend of Tonahill’s since the third grade, also spoke at the service reminding the mourners of her “smile that radiated love, support, and warmth.” She told of the officer’s love for children and the joy she had when she took her 2-year-old nephew, Kyle Hamil, on outings.

After the funeral service a 6-mile-long procession of police cars and motorcycles with flashing blue lights escorted Tonahill’s casket to the El Camino Memorial Park in Sorrento Valley for burial. Ruopp’s services concluded at the funeral as he was later cremated.

Tonahill was survived by her parents, David and Sharon Tonahill; a brother, Shane; sister, Tamee; and grandmother, Louise Mays, all of San Diego.

Kimberly S. Tonahill

San Diego officers Kimberly Sue Tonahill, 24, and Timothy J. Ruopp, 31, were shot and killed on Friday, Sept. 14, 1984, while issuing a citation to a man in Balboa Park. Tonahill became the first woman to die in the line of duty in the history of the Department.

At approximately 11 p.m., Ruopp observed a vehicle parked near Balboa Park. There were four people in the car, two men and two young women; identified as Joselito Cinco, 25; Victor Casillas, 23; Gina Hensel, 16; and Dana Andreasen, 15.

The four had met at a nearby convenience store and drove to a house in East San Diego where Cinco went in alone with a black pouch. They then bought whisky and 7-Up from a liquor store and went to Balboa Park. Cinco gave the two girls “crystal” Methedrine from the black pouch. Andreasen’s nose began to bleed from “snorting” the drug and Cinco accompanied her to a bathroom nearby where he told her (after she expressed some fear of gang members) that he was carrying a gun for protection.

Ruopp, who was an ordained minister and very polite, asked the two girls how old they were, and when he learned they were underage, asked the two older men, “Isn’t it a little late for these young ladies to be out this evening? Cinco apologized and offered to drive the girls home, but Ruopp refused since it was apparent that Cinco had been drinking. At this point Ruopp removed the two underage girls from the vehicle and seated them in his police car.

Tonahill, a rookie, arrived on the scene in her patrol car to assist Ruopp, a 2-½ year veteran. He asked her to pat-down Cinco and search his car as he began writing out a misdemeanor citation against Cinco and Casillas for contributing to the delinquency of a minor. During the pat-down (but before the search neared his weapon) the 5-foot 7-inch 140-pound Cinco suddenly pushed Tonahill away, pulled a handgun, and, from a crouch position, fired at her at point-blank range. His first shot hit her between the gap of her bulletproof vest underneath her armpit. He continued pumping bullets into her as she slumped to the ground.

A Department representative reported that Tonahill and Ruopp had followed correct procedures but did not know that Cinco was wanted on several arrest warrants and had vowed that he would not return to jail even if he had to kill a cop. They obviously did not expect someone being issued a misdemeanor citation to try and kill them.

After Tonahill fell to the ground without being able to draw her weapon, Cinco turned his attention to Ruopp who was standing by his patrol car and opened fire on him before he could unholster his weapon. Ruopp was shot in the head and fell. According to witnesses at the scene, Cinco then walked over to each of the two officers and fired additional shots execution style into their bodies.

Cinco then went to the patrol car, opened the back door, and told the two frightened girls, “Let’s go.” The two girls got out of the vehicle but fled rather than join Cinco. They ran to a nearby park bench and joined a couple that was hiding behind the bench.

At this point a third San Diego officer, Gary E. Mitrovich, 26, a 4-year veteran, arrived on the scene. He heard the two officers on the radio describe the situation, as it existed before the shooting began, and decided to drive to that location. From a block away he heard gunshots and at the scene he saw two parked police vehicles but was unable to see Ruopp or Tonahill.

As he stepped from his car he saw two men in the nearby darkness. He told both to freeze, and Casillas raised his hands and said he did not have a gun. Cinco was crouching behind a car and immediately began firing at Mitrovich who returned fire. He was struck by a bullet in the left shoulder and fell to the ground. Casillas and Cinco fled the scene in different directions.

Casillas, who was not involved in the shooting and apparently wanted to distance himself from Cinco, first tried to join the two girls and the older couple hiding behind the park bench but was told by the older couple to leave. He then panicked and ran into the nearby canyon to hide. He was arrested the night of the shootings but was released within four days when it became apparent he was not involved in the killing of the officers. He had no prior record.

The wounded Mitrovich was able to radio for assistance and police and paramedics rushed to the scene. Before the paramedics arrived, a witness to the shooting, Ernest Silva, 27, ran to the shooting scene and quickly decided that Ruopp was beyond help and thus concentrated his efforts on Tonahill and attempted cardiopulmonary resuscitation on her before he was relieved by a police officer.

Mitrovich survived his injuries and on Nov. 30, 1984 was awarded the Medal of Valor, San Diego Police Department’s highest honor, for his courage.

Joselito “Gerry” Cinco, 25, of Encanto was charged with two counts of first-degree murder. He had been charged numerous times with carrying a concealed weapon, but each time, he had been released on his own recognizance and given a misdemeanor citation. Court records indicate he was never sentenced to serve time in the California penal system. He was to be arraigned on Sept. 27 for the latest incident “stemming from an arrest June 17 for carrying a concealed gun.”

Cinco had failed to appear for a January trial date on a November 1983 arrest for carrying a concealed weapon, and a bench warrant was issued for his arrest in March. However, the warrant had not been served.

Cinco was held without bond and charged with two counts of first-degree murder with special circumstances making him eligible for the death penalty. He was convicted of murder and sentenced to death but committed suicide in prison.

Tonahill was born Kimberly Sue on July 23, 1960, in La Mesa, California to David and Sharon Tonahill. She grew up in the San Diego and La Mesa areas attending the local schools and graduating from San Diego’s Patrick Henry High School in 1978. She loved sports and was voted the most valuable player on the high school field hockey team and was manager of the track team.

After high school she studied Child Development at Grossmont Community College. Her goal was to become a police officer, a desire she had held since she was a child.

Tonahill entered the San Diego Regional Law Enforcement Academy on Oct. 27, 1983, with 50 other recruits. She graduated on Feb. 29, 1984, after 16 weeks of training, and was assigned to “Beat 513” around Balboa Park in the Central Division.

A double funeral for officers Tonahill and Ruopp was held at the First United Methodist Church in Mission Valley on Tuesday, Sept. 18. More than 3,000 attended the double funeral. It was reported as the largest turnout for a funeral in the history of the city.

Rev. Mark Trotter officiated at the services and a eulogy for both officers was delivered by San Diego Police Chief William B. Kolender who noted that Kimberly, though female, was accepted (and loved) by her male peers and often socialized with them when off-duty.

Sandy Tucker, a friend of Tonahill’s since the third grade, also spoke at the service reminding the mourners of her “smile that radiated love, support, and warmth.” She told of the officer’s love for children and the joy she had when she took her 2-year-old nephew, Kyle Hamil, on outings.

After the funeral service a 6-mile-long procession of police cars and motorcycles with flashing blue lights escorted Tonahill’s casket to the El Camino Memorial Park in Sorrento Valley for burial. Ruopp’s services concluded at the funeral as he was later cremated.

Tonahill was survived by her parents, David and Sharon Tonahill; a brother, Shane; sister, Tamee; and grandmother, Louise Mays, all of San Diego.