Officer Kirk Leland Johnson was in his police car at 1:30 a.m. on February 20 in a deserted park in San Diego when he was shot five times in the head and chest.

It is often said that every man, regardless of his past, becomes a saint at his funeral. In death, he is infused with qualities of patience, reverence, generosity and faith out of all proportion to his living record. No cause exists to embellish what he was. He was a good man, a good cop, a good Christian.

Kirk L. Johnson laughed with his buddies, loved his wife, and prayed with his friends.

Born and raised in Illinois, he graduated from high school there in 1975. Nothing remarkable, except that he was “always pushing,” trying for something better, trying to improve himself. Johnson enlisted in the Army in 1975, and spent almost two years stationed in Hawaii, eventually rising to the rank of sergeant in the Infantry. Nothing remarkable, except that he kept pushing. More schools, more training. More varied experiences, more involvement. He received an associate degree from the University of Maryland. Nothing remarkable; he just kept pushing for more.

In an age and time when it was the ethos of the young to be “lost,” to “search for yourself,” to “try to find out where your head is,” he needed not search for a self he already knew. He was a good friend, a good soldier, a reliable sergeant. Nothing remarkable; not a hot shot; nobody’s “golden boy,” he just kept pushing for something better, something more.

Johnson was honorably discharged from the Army, and hired by the San Diego Police Department in January 1980. Background investigators and interviewers were favorably impressed, commenting on his maturity for his age, his openness and honesty. They noted that many of his personal references were members of his church, fellow members of a prayer group he attended. They noted nothing very remarkable, just a very open, honest young man, deeply religious, who told them he had enjoyed serving his country and looked forward to serving his community.

Johnson graduated third out of 40 San Diego officers in his Academy class, with a 94.5-A-average. Within arm’s reach of the honor graduate title, he kept pushing right up to the last day of class.

In his service as a patrol officer, his sergeants consistently noted that he was “aggressive . . . always above average in work activity. . . volunteered for radio calls up to the last minute of his shift . . . never stopped looking for activity . . . continued increasing the level of quality of his work . . .” He kept pushing, every day.

Johnson pushed every minute throughout he shift, ran with his friends after work, laughed in the locker room, and went home to his wife. He was active in his church, and tried to share his beliefs through his actions rather than by his words. He was proud of a Commanding Officer’s Citation for an outstanding arrest, and kept pushing harder.

Had Kirk Johnson pushed less, not been so much of a volunteer, a little less inquisitive, he might be alive today. Had he been the sort to let suspicious circumstances go unchecked, or not followed through on his hunches with such determination, he might still be among us. But it wouldn’t have been Kirk. It is to his credit, and his honor, and to the honor of our department, that he never let up, never stopped pushing.

We need no superlatives, no flowery figures of speech to do honor to Kirk Johnson.

He was a good man.
He was a good cop.
We shall miss him.

More than 500 police officers came to pay tribute Jan. 14 to a slain comrade, Santa Cruz County sheriff’s deputy Michael Gray, 40. Gray died Jan. 13 without regaining consciousness after being shot Jan. 3 by a mentally deranged loner who lived off the land in the Santa Cruz mountains.

“I’ve lived here since 1945, and I’m quite sure this is the largest gathering I’ve ever seen here,” said Neil Monahan, 67-year-old retired Oakland firefighter.

“The turnout’s fantastic. What else can you say?” said a Santa Cruz sheriff’s captain.

St. John’s Catholic Church, where a Mass of Christian Burial was said for Gray, is just a hundred yards from where the seven-year police veteran was critically wounded, and only two blocks from his home.

The unpretentious white church was filled with 600 people. About 250 – including 120 officers – stood silently outside listening to the service over a loudspeaker. Even the air was still, and chimney smoke drifted up through the trees on the hillside.

Gray’s oak coffin, draped with the American flag, lay before a flower-filled altar. Beside the wreaths was a display of “get well” notes written by children of DeLaveaga Elementary School, a reminder of Gray’s 10-day struggle to live after he was shot.

After the funeral procession left for Felton Cemetery, the assembled officers stood silently for 10 minutes as the local fire siren wailed.

Later, the hundreds of police vehicles drove off in a giant motorcade with emergency lights flashing.

Said Santa Cruz sheriff’s Lt. Don Lovejoy, “When an officer is shot for totally senseless reasons, there’s bound to be an outpouring of feeling.”

“He was a good cop and was well-liked by the community that he lived in,” said a somber Sheriff Al Noren, who declared a two-week mourning period and ordered all the county’s flags to be flown at half-staff.

Gray, an Army veteran, joined the Sheriff’s Department in 1975. He was honored for his rescue efforts during the mudslides in the Love Creek area in 1983.

He was survived by his wife, Deanna, and his 6-year-old son, Bobby.

Highway Patrol officer Jeff Lee, 24, who was shot when he came to Gray’s aid, was treated and released from the hospital. The man accused of the attacks, a 44-year-old recluse named Leslie Grover Wyman, killed himself in the woods after the shootings.

More than 1000 law enforcement officers joined hundreds of other mourners Jan. 21 in tribute to slain Oakland police officer Ramon Irizarry, “a superb undercover officer and an excellent investigator.”

Neighbors of Allen Temple Baptist Church in East Oakland peered from porches and windows as an army of uniformed men and women from police, sheriff and fire departments throughout the state lined the streets leading to the church and filed in for the services.

In a poignant eulogy, Oakland police Lieutenant Mike Wilson noted that the birthday of Dr. Martin Luther King Jr. was observed during the time that the 25-year-old officer was hospitalized in a coma.

Wilson suggested that just as King died for a dream that was never realized in his lifetime, “Ramon too had a dream that motivated him.” That dream, Wilson said, “Was to improve society and to make a direct contribution . . . to fighting crime.

“Ramon laid down his life for the community he loved,” Wilson said. “Don’t ever think that his death was in vain.”

Dr. J. Alfred Smith, pastor of Allen Temple, urged the mourners to offer the police “our support, our love and our smiles,” and to encourage inner-city youth to avoid criminal activity, which led to the young officer’s death.

Irizarry, who lived in Pittsburg, was survived by his wife, Breanda; a 2-year-old son, Michael Ramon; his parents, Ramon and Jenetha Irizarry of New York City, and a sister and two brothers, also living in New York.

His body was flown to New York for burial.

Irizarry was shot in the head at close range on Jan. 11 as he and several other officers served a search warrant on the occupants of a house in West Oakland suspected of being the center of drug trafficking and fencing of stolen goods.

Doctors said Irizarry had been clinically dead – kept alive on life support machines – since the shooting. His attending physicians concluded that he had no chance for recovery.

While the funeral was in progress, the man suspected of killing Irizarry, Bobbie Joe Buckley, 41, appeared in Oakland-Piedmont Municipal Court to be arraigned on a charge of murder with special circumstances.

Buckley was wounded in the face when three officers fired at him as he fled from the shooting scene.

Detective Dave Miller, 30, was leaving a north area business with his brother-in-law when his brother-in-law became involved in an altercation with two men in the parking lot. The two men jumped into their car, and as they were leaving the lot, they swerved and struck Miller’s brother-in-law.

Detective Miller, who observed the incident, jumped into his truck and pursued what he believed to be fleeing felons. As he gained on the suspect vehicle, he attempted to slowly force their vehicle to the side of the road. As he did so, his pickup hit the rear of the suspect vehicle and his pickup veered from the roadway and hit a power pole.

Detective Miller was killed instantly in the crash. The sad irony of this incident is that subsequent investigation determined that Miller’s brother-in-law was struck accidentally causing minor injuries. However, Detective Dave Miller was performing in his capacity as a peace officer in his belief that a deliberate act of violence had occurred, initiating the pursuit which lead to his death.

Detective David Miller is buried at Mount Vernon Memorial Park on Greenback Lane.

Four weeks before he was to retire, Humboldt County sheriff Gene Wheeler Cox was shot to death while attempting to aid his father-in-law in a dispute with a former mental patient at a trailer park.

Also killed were the father-in-law and a bystander who rushed to their aid. The carnage ended when the alleged gunman was fatally wounded in a shoot-out with police.

Eureka Police Chief O.R. Shipley said those killed were Cox, 56; his father-in-law, park manager and former sheriff’s deputy, Jack Alton, believed to be in his late 60s; and retired park resident Claire Montgomery, 71.

Shipley identified the gunman as Clarence Eugene McCutcheon, 50, a resident of the park who listed a permanent address in Santa Monica.

He said federal officers arrested McCutcheon late last year in New York City after threatening to bomb an airplane he was on, as well as other flights.

Shipley said his officers were called to the Ebb tide RV Park on Highway 101 at the edge of Eureka about 3:55 p.m., where they were met by McCutcheon, who opened fire on them with a large-caliber rifle.

He said the officers returned fire and wounded McCutcheon, who died at about 6 p.m. at Eureka General Hospital.

Shipley said eyewitnesses told officers the gunman was responsible for the deaths of Cox, Alton and Montgomery.

He said he had no idea what prompted the shooting or any leads as to a possible motive.

He said McCutcheon had been hospitalized at a federal prison following the airport incident, but was released in February. He was not prosecuted because of his mental condition.

According to deputy police chief Murl Harpham, Alton had telephoned the sheriff seeking help in dealing with McCutcheon, Cox promised to stop off on his way home.

Harpham said Cox, unarmed and known not to have carried a firearm for the last several years, was found shot to death on the ground about 15 feet from the front of McCutcheon’s trailer. The door to his automobile was still open and the motor was running.

Harpham said the sheriff’s office at about the time Cox was shot received a telephone call – possibly from Alton – indicating that Cox might have been shot.

Harpham said evidence and testimony from witnesses indicated that after Cox was shot, the killer reloaded his rifle and “stalked” Aton to his office and shot him there.

Alton’s body, bearing numerous gunshot wounds, was found outside the office, Harpham said.

He said it appeared Montgomery had come to Alton’s aid and was attempting to shield Alton’s wife, Hannah, when he was shot, moments before police arrived.

Harpham said Humboldt officials first encountered McCutcheon Oct. 27 when they placed him in a mental hospital after he threatened to kill a group of people at a campground.

He was subsequently diagnosed as being “very dangerous, capable of anything,” but was released because he was not so disabled he could not care for himself.

Alton and Cox were known to be longtime friends, having worked together as sheriff’s deputies. Cox married Alton’s daughter, Shirley, in 1976.

They were active members of Bethel Church in Eureka, where Cox served as a deacon.

Cox’s police career began in the early 1950s with the Arcata Police Department in Humboldt County. In 1954, he joined the sheriff’s office, where he rose to under sheriff in 1962. He was elected sheriff in 1966 and was re-elected in 1970, ’74 and ’78.

He chose not to seek re-election this year. Shipley said Cox only last month had addressed a police chief’s association and looking ahead to his retirement, encouraged the chiefs to “get out of law enforcement as early as you can.”

Deputy David G. Graves joined the Fresno Co. Sheriff’s Department in 1979, having served as a volunteer in the Search and Rescue Unit for some two years prior to becoming a deputy. Assigned to the Patrol Division, he was a dedicated officer who served this community and loved his profession. On November 5, 1982, while on patrol in the northwest area of the metropolitan district, his patrol vehicle was struck broadside (left side) by another vehicle, drivin by a three-time convicted drunk driver, who had failed to heed the stop sign. A passenger in the other vehicle was also killed. The driver was charged with two counts of 2nd degree murder in addition to felony drunk driving.

Graves was a Christian man who was a third generation member of the Calvary Presbyterian Church of Fresno, serving as an elder and following in the steps of his father and grandfather.

His wife, Karen, whom he married in 1972, survives him. They were engaged on Thanksgiving Day 11 years ago, having met at their church in 1965. He and Karen have two little girls; Kelly is 7 and Christy is 4. His parents are the late Joanne Dahlberg Graves and Gordon Graves, and he is also survived by his stepmother, sisters Mary Jo Pratt, Carol Elder and Ruth Kraushaar; and brother, Stephen Graves, and step-brothers, Eric and Harold Onsum.

Officer Dale Eric Newby, 36, was shot and killed by a motorist he had pulled over for speeding and erratic driving along Interstate 5 north of Stockton. Newby scuffled with the motorist, an ex-mental patient, who opened fire with a .357 magnum handgun, shooting Newby in the hand, then twice in the back as the officer retreated toward his patrol car. The tragedy multiplied when the gunman took a hostage, whom he subsequently shot and killed. Newby, 36, was a 15-year CHP veteran and had served in the Baldwin Park and Contra Costa Areas before transferring to Stockton in 1972.

Reprinted from the San Francisco Tribune

They buried police Sgt. John Scott Macaulay Tuesday, July 20, in a funeral fit for a hero, full of pageantry and the mournful dirge of bagpipes, with a cortege led by more than 100 motorcycle officers.

It was the city’s largest police funeral, and it brought police from more than 100 towns and cities, from as far away as Kentucky.

More than 3,000 police and civilians came to St. Mary’s Cathedral to hear Macaulay eulogized as a bible-reading, dedicated officer who gave his life to make the city “a better and safer place.”

“John’s death has once again brought into focus the ills of society,” said the Rev. John P. Heaney, a police chaplain, “and the inadequate manner in which we attempt to control them.”

“The cause for which he struggled is good and just,” Heaney told a standing room-only crowd, “and his efforts were total.”

The Mass was conducted by Archbishop John R. Quinn and Monsignor James Flynn, pastor of Macaulay’s parish.

Macaulay died of wounds received July 6 when he was shot by a shoplifting suspect whose car he stopped at Van Ness Avenue and Willow Street.

David Arien, 41, who had a history of mental problems, escaped in a hail of bullets from police backup units and drove to Franklin and Post streets, where he shot and killed his 36-year-old wife, Jonelle, and then turned the gun on himself.

Macaulay was shot twice. One bullet lodged in his brain, and he never recovered from a coma.

Had he lived, doctors said, it would have been with his left side paralyzed and his vision impaired.

He is the 87th San Francisco police officer to die in the line of duty.

A native San Franciscan and a bachelor, the 35-year-old Macaulay joined the department in 1971 and was assigned to Northern Station when he was shot.

The oldest of 10 children, he three times won the Medal of Valor for heroism, and had five police commission commendations and more than 100 captain’s commendations for outstanding work.

Gary Moss had wanted to be a police officer since he used to pedal his kiddy car around the neighborhood, using his best Broderick Crawford voice as he yelled out, “10-4! 10-4!”

Moss realized his ambition a little more than a year ago when he became a motorcycle officer with the Hermosa Beach Police Department. His colleagues said it was all he ever wanted to do.

But 20 minutes before his shift ended in the early morning hours of June 20, death ended his police career.

The 26-year-old Moss and his partner, Paul Wolcott, were chasing two men who were speeding on their motorcycles near the intersection of Aviation Boulevard and Harper Street when a compact car drove into the officers’ path, witnesses told police. Both officers broadsided the car at full speed.

Wolcott, 27, a good friend of Moss who went through training with him, broke both his wrists, his left hand, shattered his right kneecap and separated his pelvis. He is listed in stable condition at Little Company of Mary Hospital in Torrance.

But Moss suffered fatal head injuries in the accident, and was pronounced dead by hospital doctors.

In front of the 1,000 law-enforcement officers from all over the state, Moss’ ashes were cast into the sea by his family in a solemn but graceful memorial service marked by its precision and emotion.

Three police helicopters circled a large boat, led by three smaller boats, as the ashes were dropped into the strong wind and the rocky sea. One of the helicopters, symbolizing the dead man, veered off in the opposite direction after the ashes were cast as the boat returned to port.

The mass of policemen, including officers from Manhattan Beach and Redondo Beach police departments and the California Highway Patrol, silently saluted the boat from a parking lot at Torrance Beach Park. The officers, who had arrived by motorcycle and car, formed a procession that stretched about 2 ½ miles along Catalina Avenue.

Earlier, a photo of a smiling Moss, the picture surrounded by a ;yellow wreath of flowers, looked out at the gathering of family and friends in front of the Hermosa Beach Civic Center as his superiors and friends expressed sorrow at his loss.

Nigel Geoffey Brewster, 23, of Redondo Beach, who was driving the car the officers ran into, was arrested at the scene of the accident by Redondo Beach police and charged with felony drunken driving, officials said. He was released on $2,500 bond pending the filing of drunken driving and manslaughter charges by the Hermosa Beach Police Department.

Moss, a Hermosa Beach resident, was unmarried and had been on the force for 15 months. Friends at the police department described Moss as a very active person, involved in a variety of sports activities.

“Gary was a very good friend of mine – to the point he was like family,” says Sgt. Tony Altfield. “That’s the kind of loss we’re facing here. There’s a pall over the agency. The mood is grief-stricken, with a very real sense of loss.”

Moss is survived by his parents, Mildred and Charles of Long Beach, and two brothers, Charles Jr. of Mission Viejo and Tom of the Long Beach area.