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Ramblings by Hal

Ramblings Reprise, Cop Funeral

This post is a reprise LAPD veteran Hal Collier’s post of December 12, 2012. America has lost four policemen in violent deaths this week and I thought it would be appropriate to recall Hal’s emotions as a pall bearer for his friend Duane C. Johnson in 1984. The emotions never change, just the date. —-Thonie

 

By Hal Collier, LAPD, retired

I’m about to describe the funerals where I knew the officer and in some cases the family. These still haunt me after four decades.

It was raining, just six days before Christmas, December 19, 1984. I was on a day off when the phone rang. It was Keith, a partner and he flatly stated, “Did you hear the news, Duey Johnson was shot and killed in China Town!” Duey and his partner had responded to a robbery alarm at a jewelry store.

I swear, it took me minutes to breathe again. Duey was a probationer that I had trained just two years ago. I had trained over hundreds of probationers, but I never lost one.

Duane C. Johnson, was a “Baby Huey” type of kid. He had a heart as big as he was. Duey had 3 loves, His wife “Cat” Catherine, the United States Marine Corps and finally the LAPD. Duey use to brag that he was in one of the Rocky movies. He was in the Marine Corps color guard in the boxing ring.

Unlike most probationers, Duey stayed in touch. We even talked about having dinner together sometime in the future. It was a few days after, that I got a call from some officer downtown that I was asked to be a pallbearer at Duey’s funeral. I had attended dozens of cop funerals but I was never a pallbearer.

I spent the next two days shining everything that was visible on my uniform and everything that was under it. I wanted to make Duey proud. Along with a few dozen other Hollywood cops, all in their finest dress blue uniforms, black elastic bands across our badges, we headed to the church.

I walked into the church and almost fainted. Duey’s twin brother, Dana, met me. He was in his Virginia Beach Police uniform and I swear he was the spitting image of Duey. Duey and Dana were both cops. They gave each pallbearer a pair of white cotton gloves. I’ll talk about those damn white gloves later.

The service at the church was very difficult for me and ride to the cemetery seemed to take forever. I don’t think I brought enough Kleenex. At the cemetery, you put on those white cotton gloves. The gloves look nice and have a dignified appearance. The casket is removed from the hearse and the pallbearers will now carry Duey to his final resting place.

As I mentioned earlier, Duey was large boned and the casket was heavy. I could hardly hold the polished handles of the casket with those damn white gloves. The graveside service was a blur, I remember the 21 gun salute and the folded flag from Duey’s casket being presented to “Cat”. The pallbearers then walked up to the casket and placed the white gloves on Duey’s casket and said good bye.

We left the cemetery and headed back to Hollywood. My shift started in 2 hours. I have never let a December 19 pass by without thinking of Duey.

October 9, 1990 I, arrived at work early to go for a pre-watch run. I saw the Hollywood Homicide Detectives already at work. They informed me that Russ Kuster had been shot and killed at a restaurant by a deranged Hungarian mobster. Russ was a renowned Hollywood Homicide Investigator and had handled many high profile cases. Russ had returned fire and solved his own homicide.

The drive to the cemetery was lined with citizens. Firemen had American flags draped from their hook and ladders. I attended the funeral with my current female probationer, she forgot her Kleenex, but no problem I had plenty. They played those damn Bag Pipes.

I have been a pallbearer at two other Hollywood officers’ funerals and attended a lot of others. They were all just as emotional. Joe Rios, 5-27-93, a Viet Nam Veteran who always said, “Hal, got a quarter for a cup of coffee for a Vet?”  Joe owed me over 10 dollars. James Pagliotti, 6-22-87 who I played flag football with on Hollywood’s team. Rob Cottle, 3-24-10, who I supervised at Southeast Division and later at Hollywood. Rob died in Afghanistan serving as a Marine reserve. He was a SWAT officer on LAPD. He always went out of his way to say “Hi Sarge!”

I don’t go to cop funerals anymore, I just can’t handle the emotions, some nights I don’t sleep very good with all the memories of lost cops!  I don’t know how their families live with it.

You might think I had dozens of those black elastic bands that go over your badge. No, the sad part is I just saved one and kept it in my locker and wore it every time we had a cop funeral. I still have it.

Still want my job? These scars don’t show on the outside.

Hal

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Ramblings by Hal

Cop Funerals, Part Two

By Hal Collier

This Ramblings took me a long time to write and it’s Part 2. 

 

I try to keep most of my Ramblings fun and on a positive note but the fact is that there are a lot of negative aspects of police work.  If you work for over three decades in a dangerous job, there’s going to be some tragedy.

 

I saw a lot of partners seriously injured and pensioned off.  Some couldn’t even work other jobs.  Think of being sentenced to watching soap operas, or Oprah every day. It’s just like being retired but without good health.  Believe it or not some of them were the lucky ones.

 

I attended more police funerals then any cop should have.  In the Police Academy they had a class on officer survival taught by Bob Smitson.  It was very graphic with pictures of dead cops on a morgue table.  The class taught that you had to survive any confrontation.  After the class, I walked to my car with my hand on my gun—and I was at the Police Academy.  A month later, I was sent into the streets of Los Angles praying that I’d never be in the pictures shown in that class.

 

photo by californiareport.org
photo by californiareport.org

I wasn’t even off probation when I attended my first police officer funeral.  My training officer told me that I had to attend; it was my duty. I was a training officer for twenty years and made my probationers attend at least one police officer funeral.  It’s something that you will never forget.  You see an American Flag-draped coffin, knowing that it contains a police officer who last week was doing the same job you did last night.  If it’s an open casket, seeing a cop lying there in uniform is a sight you’ll never forget.  You see the grieving wife, kids and family.  It’s a real wake up call.  You suddenly realize that you’re not invincible.

 

I couldn’t tell you how many cop funerals I attended, but it was more than I should have.  For a while I attended every LAPD officer’s funeral, and a few LA County Sheriffs.  There were also a few smaller city officer’s funerals.  It was the least you can do for officers who have paid the ultimate sacrifice.

 

The news media will make an appearance and show a thirty second clip of the funeral on the 5 o’clock news.  They will then show two minutes on a drug rehab for out-of-work actors.

 

 

Funeral band on badge
Funeral band on badge

A police officer’s funeral is a fitting tribute.  I have seen officers attend from all over the country.  All wearing their best dress uniforms, their leather gear shined to a high gloss.

   

All had that black elastic band across their badges.  Some come thousands of miles to honor a fallen comrade.  I have been at funerals where the procession of police cars stretched for miles, sometimes lined with citizens who appreciate the sacrifices we make.

 

The first funerals I attended just had the service and the 21 gun salute at the cemetery.  My partner, Jim Tomer, collected a shell casing from each funeral we attended.  Later funerals had a helicopter flyover with the missing man formation. 

 

Riderless horse
Riderless horse

The LAPD Mounted Unit has a riderless horse with the boots reversed in the stirrups.  Then there’s those bag pipes.  Those damn bag pipes!!!  I can usually control my emotions at funerals until those bag pipes play Amazing Grace.  I have learned to bring enough Kleenex for both my partner and I.

 

Most of the funerals I attended, I didn’t personally know the officer. They were easier, if there is such a thing.  You still see the grieving family and know that their Christmas, birthdays and anniversaries will never be the same.

 

Hal