An Alibi for Murder

Note: This is a chapter from my upcoming book, Unsolved: Cold-Case Homicides of Law Enforcement Officers (policehistorybyjamesbultema.com.)

 

Frank-Hardy

Patrolman Frank Hardy

Officer Frank Hardy
Seattle (Washington) Police Department
End of Watch: Friday, March 12, 1954
Age: 31

In police work, few radio calls raise the hair on the back of your neck and get the adrenaline pounding through your veins more than an “All units, a robbery in progress” or a silent robbery alarm at a bank. Law enforcement officers train endlessly for just such an event. There is diagonal deployment to consider, concealment and cover, what additional weapons to take and above all, communication with responding units . Patrolman Frank Hardy responded to just such a call. Regrettably, it would be his last.

What would become known as one of the most spectacular bank robberies in Seattle

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The Seattle First National Bank was the scene of the robbery and shooting that left one officer dead and two others seriously wounded.  Photo from Seattle P-I file/Dec. 1948

history began on Friday, March 12, 1954, at 10:40 a.m., when three middle-aged men entered the lobby of the Seattle First National Bank at 404 N. 85th St. wearing disguises. When they saw the large fake noses with black-rimmed glasses, many of the 20 customers thought it was some sort of prank. The snickering stopped when they saw the men were armed with guns. (Much of the following information was reported by the Behind the Badge Foundation which provides comprehensive support to Washington state’s law enforcement agencies, families and communities after an officer has died or suffered serious injury in the line of duty.)

Once in the bank, Suspect No. 1 pointed a gun at the bank manager and ordered him to open the vault. Suspect No. 2 stood in the lobby as the lookout and kept an eye on the two entrances. Suspect No. 3 entered the tellers’ cage area and starting loading money into brown paper bags he had taken with him. A bank employee lying on the ground, bravely used his foot to activate a hidden silent alarm. The call of the silent robbery alarm at the bank went out at 10:45. The closest unit to the bank was Sgt. Howard Slessman in Car 252. Officer Vernon Chase in Car 223 and Officer Frank Hardy in Car 213 arrived right behind Sgt. Slessman. Unfortunately for the officers, the glass in the bank’s windows was all one-way, which made it nearly impossible for them to see inside while providing the criminals with a clear view of what was occurring outside.

 

Armed with a shotgun, Sgt. Slessman parked at the south side of North 85th and moved toward the main entrance. Officer Chase approached from the east side, also armed with a shotgun. Sgt. Slessman told Chase to take the east entrance. Slessman continued to the main entrance. Inside, the three suspects saw both officers approaching. The sergeant glanced inside the bank and saw several people in the lobby, none of whom appeared alarmed. He would later state it appeared like business as usual, and he thought this was probably just another false alarm. Slessman entered through the first set of doors. As he did, he saw a man moving toward him who he thought was the bank manager coming to explain the error in setting off the silent alarm. Suspects No. 2 stopped eight feet from the inner door, quickly raised his .45-caliber simiautomatic pistol and fired through the

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A bank employee points to the bullet hole through which Sgt. Slessman was shot. Photo from Brownell/Seattle P-I file.

glass door. The bullet hit Slessman in the shoulder and entered his upper torso. The shot paralyzed his right arm. The sergeant went down. Suspect No. 2 walked over to the wounded man, leveled his gun directly at Slessman’s head and instead of executing him, calmly told him to stay where he was. He then strolled back into the bank.

 

Suspect No. 1 and No. 2 started to walk through the lobby toward the east door. As Slessman lay on the floor, he saw Officer Hardy moving from the sidewalk east of the bank toward the east entrance. Suspect No. 2 peering through the one-way glass, fired a shot through the quarter-inch plate-glass window, striking Officer Hardy in the head. Quickly, Officer Chase went to aid Hardy. Suspect No. 1 and No. 2 walked out the east door into the parking lot. Suspect No. 2 took aim and shot Chase in the abdomen. Chase went down. Not one shot had been fired by the three officers, and all were on the ground, bleeding. Suspect No. 3, the only remaining robber in the bank, used his pistol to smash out a window on the west side of the bank. He jumped out with a bag containing $6,900 ($63,000 in today’s money) and left behind another bag, this one containing $90,800 ($831,000).

Suspects No. 1 and No. 2 sprinted to their stolen getaway car parked at the northeast corner of the bank parking lot. The late-model green Oldsmobile had Washington plates that had been lifted from a Studebaker in an auto wrecking yard. The two suspects drove north on Phinney Street as responding units pulled up. As Office G.D. Boyer arrived, a woman was yelling that a man had run behind a house on Phinney. Officer Boyer looked in that direction and saw Suspect No. 3 just getting into the getaway car. He chased the suspects on foot north on Phinney until he lost sight of the car.

At the bank, officers and citizens, along with several doctors and nurses from a nearby clinic, arrived to give aid to the three wounded men. The officers were loaded into three different ambulances and transported to nearby hospitals. Officer Hardy died while en route. Ninety minutes later, the getaway car was found abandoned in a parking lot. As the car was being recovered, one of the most intense manhunt in the history of the Pacific Northwest was underway.

Following the robbery and murder of Officer Hardy, a joint task force of the Seattle Police Department and the FBI, logged 10,000 hours in just two weeks of investigative work while following up on more than 700 leads. On the day of the shooting, a police bulletin detailing the robbery was sent to outlying agencies. After hearing of the Seattle robbery, Vancouver detectives who had been investigating a series of bank robberies were quick to note the similarities between the two. The MO (modus operandi) fit perfectly. A Canadian police superintendent promptly phoned the Seattle investigators.
Consequently, four months after the shooting, detectives had two of the three suspects identified: Clifford Dawley and John Wasylenchuk, both convicted criminals with lengthy rap sheets. Of the three suspects, Dawley, the apparent triggerman (Suspect No. 2), stood out as the leader. Despite the quick identification of the suspects, it would take nearly a decade for a grand jury indict the two men for the murder of Officer Hardy and the bank robbery.

Authorities attempted to extradite Dawley, who was serving his first year of a nine-year prison sentence in Canada—but were turned down. Canadian law prohibited extradition until the full term of a sentence is served. Investigators were stunned. Nevertheless, Wasylenchuk, who was not in prison, was put on trial in a Seattle federal court in 1964.

Prosecutors had a strong case and were going after the death penalty. But to everyone’s disbelief, Wasylenchuk was provided an alibi by a retired sergeant of the Royal Canadian Mounted Police, who stated that Wasylenchuk was at his home the day of the shooting. This same Mountie had also been a defense witness in a previous bank robbery case in which Wasylenchuk was convicted. Through different informers, U.S. investigators learned that several Canadian officers had assisted criminals in setting up bank robberies in western Canada and, for a price, provided them with false alibis. With the alibi, Wasylenchuk went free. And with that acquittal, the second suspect, Dawley, was never brought to trial.

Postscript. Wasylenchuk had a heart attack and died in 1968. Dawley, who police always believed shot all three officers (Suspect No. 2), died in a boat fire in 1974. The RCMP sergeant died of natural causes four months after the trial. The third suspect was never officially identified.

 

hardy_family_456

Following the murder of her husband, fellow officers, including the chief of police, along with tradesmen from throughout the area did a complete remodel of the Hardy home. In July 1954, Seattle Police Chief H. James Lawrence presented keys to Rolene Hardy. Photo from the Seattle P-I Davis file.

Sgt. Slessman and Officer Chase both returned to work in July 1954. Chase never fully recovered from his wounds. After 19 surgeries and hospitalization for over three months, Chase retired on a disability pension in 1963. He died in 2002. Slessman was later promoted to captain and became head of internal investigation in 1977. His son, Mike, became a Seattle police captain. Howard Slessman died in 1981.

 

Frank Wallace Hardy was born in 1923 in Minnesota but lived most of his life in Seattle. He served in the United States Marine Corps from 1943 to 1946. He joined the SPD in 1951. Before his death, Hardy was remodeling the family home into their “dream house.” Following his murder, fellow officers, including the chief of police, along with tradesmen from throughout the area did a complete remodel of the Hardy home. It became known as “Project Hardy.” His wife Rolene, their newborn son, and his daughter, Antoinette, moved into the completed dream house Frank had always wanted for them.

Sources:
http://www.behindthebadgefoundation.org/roll-call/hardy-officer-frank-w
• Seattle PI. http://blog.seattlepi.com/seattle911/2013/03/06/the-1954-seattle-bank-heist-that-exposed-a-political-scandal/#photo-211913 and
http://blog.seattlepi.com/thebigblog/2010/09/20/p-i-archive-story-of-1954-greenwood-bank-robbery/
• The Seattle Times: http://community.seattletimes.nwsource.com/archive/?date=19931128&slug=1734219
• Newspapers.com
• A book was written on the shooting and robbery in 1994 entitled: Cops, Crooks and Politicians by Neil W. Moloney, the former chief of the Washington State Patrol and a former Seattle police officer.1 - Unsolved - Cold Case Homicidesjpeg

Cold Case Homicide: Officer Fred Early

 

Officer Fred Early

This one is personal. As a young rookie police officer, just out of the academy, I worked West Los Angeles (WLA) division of the LAPD, on the same watch as Fred Early. Although we never worked together, we were on a lot of the same calls. I had heard of his reputation as a solid cop who had been in several “good” shootings in the South end of the city where several suspects were killed. Perhaps that is why he was transferred to one of the less active areas, WLA, which borders Beverly Hills.

I learned much from Early, just watching how he handled “hot” calls with the utmost professionalism, but primarily observing his officer survival skills. You knew if Early was on your call, you never had to look over your shoulder—he had your “6.” His nickname was “Crazy Fred,” and he lived up to that moniker. I recall one night after work, Early dangerously climbed a six-story tower next to the station and waved to us disbelievers down below—that was Early. After his death, many of us began calling each other “Fred” as a gesture of what he meant to us. I even named my dog after him. So how could an officer who survived so much be taken down by some burglary suspects while off duty? That is the story.

On Saturday, September 9, 1972, at 4:30 in the morning, Policeman Fred Early of the Los Angeles Police Department was on his way home after spending time with some friends. He was off duty, driving his personal vehicle near the northwest corner of National and Sawtelle boulevards, just off the 405 Freeway. Always attuned to his surroundings, no matter whether he was at work, Early observed a possible burglary suspect acting suspiciously near the closed Thrifty Drug Store.

Stopping his vehicle, he watched the suspect for several minutes. Believing this was indeed a burglary going down, he circled and parked his car at a service station at the southwest corner of the intersection to better keep the man under surveillance.

In an era with no cell phones, Early left his vehicle and went to a pay phone to request assistance. As he was talking to the operator, the suspect spooked and ran. At 4:30 in the morning, the city is just beginning to stir, and there would have been very few cars moving. It appears the suspect realized this and, seeing Early’s car stop, started running southbound across National. Early dropped the phone receiver in mid-sentence and pursued the fleeing suspect. He chased him west to an extremely dark parking lot at the rear of 11316 National Blvd. As he reached the parking lot, he was attacked from behind by one or more additional suspects and was shot twice through the left leg. The assailants beat Early, kicking him in the head and body until he lost consciousness. Leaving him for dead, the suspects escaped.

When he came to, he fired his revolver into a block wall to summon help. For the next several months, Early was in and out of the hospital for treatment of his numerous wounds. He suffered from blackouts and severe headaches. While undergoing treatment at UCLA Medical Center, he sustained irreversible brain damage and never recovered. He died from his injuries six months after the shooting. He was just 31.

Just after his murder, then-Governor Ronald Reagan took the unprecedented step of offering $10,000 in state money to find the men who had shot and beaten Early. Twenty-five years later, in 1998, city officials met to consider offering additional rewards. The Police Protective League, which had offered $10,000 in 1973, once again offered that money. The Los Angeles City Council offered an additional $25,000 for information leading to the arrest of the suspects. It was a positive move to crack the case, but no suspects have been arrested, and the case remains unsolved.

During his short life, Early often talked about his love for his four girls. At the time of his death, the kids were between the ages of 5 and 12. A quarter of a century after his murder, the four attended a ceremony to honor their father with LAPD’s highest measure of bravery, the police Medal of Valor. A tearful Michelle Bonnee, Early’s youngest daughter, said at a news conference “I have the burden of looking into my own 5-year-old daughter’s eyes and trying to answer the questions she has of her grandfather—a man I remember well but barely knew and whom she will never know.”

“We have nothing to lose is the way we feel about it,” Hollie Ashworth, one of Early’s daughters, said of the new round of rewards. “Not that [an arrest] would ever make up for my father. But there would be justice in finding the person who did this and some closure for the family. That’s the hardest part, knowing there is somebody out there that got away with this at the expense of four little girls.”

LAPD detective Roseanne Parino (now retired) summed up why the hunt must continue for the perpetrators of Early’s murder and all the suspects out there who have gotten away with the murder of a police officer. “People become more mature, have more of a sense of mortality. I think just the time and distance from the act may bring people out who at the time were reticent, for whatever reasons, to speak.” To give peace to Early and all the other victims of the hundreds of unsolved police murders, we can only hope and pray this happens often.

If you have anything to add to the Early murder, please contact me so I can add your thoughts and comments to this article, or just leave a reply on this site. Thanks.

Jabultema@lapdhistory.com or 928.607.1210

 

Cold Case Homicide: Officer Michael Lee Edwards

(This is an excerpt from a book I am currently researching and writing, entitled: Unsolved: Cold Case Homicides of Law Enforcement Officers).

In the long and illustrious history of the Los Angeles Police Department, tragically, there have been over 200 officers who have given their lives in the line of duty. The majority of these have been the result of gunfire. In nearly every case, the killers have either been captured or slain. Three cases however, remain open; cold case files where the suspects were never apprehended. The thought of these murderers never having to pay for their crime, is an extremely hard reality to accept—especially for those in the close knit LAPD family. By keeping these three men in our thoughts and speaking about their murders, there is always hope. Hope that someone might step forward, or a new clue uncovered that might lead to an arrest and bring peace to these three brother officers and their families.

“Who Executed Mike?”    edwardsphoto

Tobie Edwards, an innocent 6-year-old, was playing in her grandma’s backyard after her father, Michael Edwards, dropped her off one Friday. It would be the last day they were ever together. On the next day, her play was interrupted by two uniformed Los Angeles Police officers who were dressed just like her daddy. As she later learned from her grandparents, the news was devastating. Tobie’s father, Officer Edwards, had been found shot to death, execution style. There were no suspects in custody, and 42 years later, there still aren’t. The motives and theories for the murder of Edwards are as plentiful as evidence markers at a crime scene.

The 26-year-old officer was last seen alive on May 10, 1974, enjoying some buddy time with other cops at the LAPD Police Academy bar in Elysian Park. It was Friday night, and Edwards was celebrating his final stint on the anti-gang unit, CRASH, and looking forward to his upcoming vacation to Hawaii.

At 10:30 p.m., Edwards said goodbye to his friends, telling them he had a date in Long Beach. The guard at the entrance to the Police Academy substantiated the time as he watched Edwards’ gold Ford Pinto drive past the guard shack. From there, he drove to 77th Street Station, where he was assigned. Afterwards he was observed at a nearby hospital. After leaving the hospital, Edwards was never seen alive again. From here, the mystery begins. It is a whodunit in epic proportions and has haunted detectives, friends and loved ones for over four decades.

Through the years, scores of detectives have worked the Edwards case. Many are deceased, most are retired. Today, one active detective, Daryn DuPree, of Robbery/Homicide Division, has the cold case file on Edwards and says he is actively investigating it. His examination of the case adds to the generations of LAPD’s elite detectives who have preceded him. Here is what is known.

In some way, after leaving the hospital, Edwards was forced or was transported to an abandoned, burned-out apartment building at 122 W. 89th Street, in South-Central Los Angeles. It was here that he was shot six times, execution-style, with a 9-millimeter handgun, which for identification purposes has six lands and grooves with a right-hand twist, Lands .085. His underwear (some have stated it was not his) was pulled over his face, and he was handcuffed. His car, his personal .38- caliber Smith & Wesson Airweight revolver, and some money were missing.

1974_0616_michael_lee_edwards

A little more than a month after Officer Michael Edwards’ murder, LAPD detectives issued this police bulletin seeking help in locating the people responsible for his death. They are still looking four decades later.

Fifteen hours after his body was discovered, police located his Pinto about 10 miles from the murder scene at 1034 W. 186th Street in Los Angeles. The location was near the old Ascot Raceway, a frequent drop spot for stolen vehicles. Divorce papers from his wife were on the passenger seat. The keys were in the ignition. A handkerchief was found in the car, but no suspect prints were uncovered. No one has come forward who witnessed the actual shooting.

edwards3

Fifteen hours after his murder, Officer Edwards’ gold Ford Pinto was found abandoned at this location on 186th Street.

In 1981, Edwards’ revolver was found, and detectives were hoping this would provide the one clue to blow the case wide open. In Las Vegas, the police department had been broadcasting PSAs to encourage citizens to turn in their firearms. A woman and her fried surrendered a revolver that turned out to be the gun that Edwards was carrying on the night of his murder. LAPD was promptly notified. After an in-depth interview, the two were cleared of any wrongdoing. “We tried just about everything we could do at that time,” said Tom McGuine, one of the original detectives on the case. “We had the people power, we had the time, we had everything going for us. But sometimes you get to a point where you just don’t get the answer.”

The 1970s were turbulent times in the nation. Not since the 1920s, have so many officers been killed. Radical groups such as the SLA (Symbionese Liberation Army) committed bank robberies, committed murders, planted bombs under LAPD cars and kidnapped newspaper heiress Patricia Hearst. Just days after Edwards’ body was discovered, six SLA members died in a firefight with the LAPD SWAT team. Some thought there might be a connection between the execution killing of Edwards and the SLA. Investigators tested the weapons used by the SLA but could not connect them to the Edwards murder. The SLA was subsequently ruled out.

In 1999, detectives from LAPD and Los Angeles County Sheriff’s Department established a team to reexamine unsolved slayings of LAPD officers and sheriff’s deputies. Included on the LAPD team were detectives Dennis Kilcoyne, Rosemary Sanchez and Paul Coulter. After solving a sheriff’s cold case homicide, they turned their attention to the Edwards case. As a starting point, detectives reexamined prior evidence and what the prior detectives had done. They looked over possible suspects and witness statements. They established a $15,000 reward and even went so far as to send out press releases while posting billboards that read, “Who Executed Mike?”

The joint detective task force sent out letters to officers, both retired and active, who might somehow reveal evidence they missed the first time. They had the FBI retest fingerprints, with no luck. They revisited the crime scene and interviewed friends and family members. Although they received numerous calls and clues, nothing substantial was added to the case files. The cold case remained just that. It was at this point that detectives began to focus on Edwards as a man, rather than as a police officer. “It’s usually not the Sunday night mystery,” Kilcoyne said. “It’s usually something blatant right in front of you. You just overlook it.”

It was just a few days after the murder that investigators learned that Edwards may have been involved with an African American woman who worked near 77th Street station. In an interview with the Los Angeles Times in 2002, Detective Kilcoyne pointed out that former detectives on the case believed Edwards would have not dated a black woman. “That’s hard to swallow now, but in 1974, the mind-set of society was totally different.” At that time, detectives thought that tip might be the key to solving the case. As it turned out, another dead end.

Another individual who thought the murder of Edwards was personal and not related to his position as an LAPD officer, is his daughter, Tobie Edwards—the little girl who was playing in the back-yard so many years ago. Over the ensuing 40-plus years, Tobie has worked tirelessly in her personal attempt to find the killer of her dad. Much of the following information comes from an interview conducted by this author in December, 2016.

She believes to the core of her being that it was a “love triangle” that got her father murdered. Mike Edwards was then separated from her mother, Penny Sue, and was dating a woman from Long Beach who wishes to remain anonymous out of fear for her life. This woman had previously dated another LAPD cop by the name of Bill Pearson before she had started dating Edwards. It was this woman that Edwards was on his way to visit the night he was killed.

The other slant to the triangle was Pearson, a disgraced cop who had been fired by the LAPD one year earlier, in 1973. Those who knew him, saw the downfall for Pearson occur exactly one year after the death of Edwards when Pearson was arrested for felony vehicular manslaughter. He was found guilty of DUI and speeding and causing an accident that killed a 16-month-old boy and seriously injured the parents. He was sentenced to one year in jail.

LAPD detectives questioned Pearson at length over “the possible love triangle.” He told investigators he had been “experiencing blackout spells” on the night of the murder and “could not state whether or not he had been involved,” blaming it on his memory lapses. Police conducted lengthy interviews with those associated with him but were never able to account for his whereabouts around the time of the murder.

 

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The official report from the Los Angeles County Coroner detailing the bullet strikes to the body of Officer Edwards.

During the subsequent years, officials have repeatedly interviewed Pearson about the Edwards murder but have not gotten anywhere. “Honestly, right now we’re still at ground zero on this case,” said the current detective on the case, Daryn DuPree. Regarding Pearson, “What he remembers I’m not going to say,” commented DuPree, but he made it clear officials are still looking at him as a suspect in the murder of Officer Edwards.

Tobie Edwards just wants peace and closure, not unlike what her mother and grandparents wished for—all who have since passed and never gotten an answer. “I have heard that Pearson is very sick, and when he dies, then what?” She went on, “My only wish is to know why and who killed my father.” You are not alone, Tobie; you have a family of LAPD officers who want to know the same thing. No brother left behind.

Anyone with information is urged to call the LAPD Robbery/Homicide Division at (213) 486-6830 and ask for Detective DuPree. Talk to your friends about the case and post on social media to keep the memory of Officer Edwards alive. One never knows where this might lead.

 

 

 

 

Unsolved: Three Cold Case Murders of LAPD Officers

(This is an excerpt from a book I am currently researching and writing, entitled: Unsolved: Cold Case Homicides of Law Enforcement Officers.)

In the long and illustrious history of the Los Angeles Police Department, tragically, there have been over 200 officers who have given their lives in the line of duty. The majority of these have been the result of gunfire. In nearly every case, the killers have either been captured or slain. Three cases however, remain open; cold case files where the suspects were never apprehended. The thought of these murder’s never having to pay for their crime, is an extremely hard reality to except—especially for those in the close knit LAPD family. By keeping these three men in our thoughts and speaking about their murders, there is always hope. Hope that someone might step forward, or a new clue uncovered that might lead to an arrest and bring peace to these three brother officers and their families.

The three brave men are Patrolman David Brooks who was killed in 1910, Officers Fred Early in 1972 and Michael Lee Edwards in 1974. In three comprehensive articles, I will look at each of their murders, identify the suspects and what the LAPD has done to find the killers. The search will never end. Lest we Forget should be the battle cry that never goes silent—never.

 

 

Patrolman David Brooksbrookslapd-patch

Los Angeles Police Department

End of Watch: Friday, April 8, 1910

Age: 38

 

Friday nights in Los Angeles have changed little in the past 106 years—it gets very busy for LAPD officers. So it was on that Friday evening, April 8, 1910 at 10:30 p.m., when two young gunmen, dressed in black clothes, black hats, and wearing black handkerchiefs covering their faces, entered Conrad Winter’s saloon at 3725 Central Avenue. John Edwards, the bartender, was the only man in the bar when he looked up and saw the masked men, with guns drawn, approaching him. “Throw up your mitts,” hollered the man who appeared to be the leader. Edwards, seemingly unfazed with two guns pointed at him replied, “Go to the dickens.” When the leader growled he meant it, the bartender quickly threw up his hands. As the leader keep his gun on Edwards, his accomplice went around the counter to the till and removed $50 in silver but missed $200 in gold which was hidden in a drawer.

As a result of numerous robberies in the area, Patrolman David Brooks, 38, a seven-year veteran out of University Station, working plain clothes, was walking his footbeat north of Grand Avenue, approaching 30th Street. It was less than an hour since the robbery and a distance that the suspects could have easily covered. As the two gunmen walked by a witness who was somewhat out of site leaning against a telephone pole, he overheard one of them point out that a man was coming and said, “let’s rob him.” The witness noticed they were both wearing all black.

Unknown to the bandits, the man they randomly selected was Los Angeles Police Officer David Brooks. As the suspect’s guns came out, Brooks was ordered to put his hands up. The street wise veteran complied, but only raised his left arm as his right went for his gun. With that motion, the officer’s jacket pulled back, reveling his badge pinned to his chest. “He’s an officer,” one of them yelled. “That’s nothing,” said the other. “Hold him up anyway.”

Patrolman Brooks began to pull his gun out. At the same time, both suspects opened fire at near point blank range. One round struck Brooks on his left side, just below the ribs, and exited on the right side, cutting through his intestines and liver, and severing an abdominal artery. The will to live and fight back was strong in Brooks. Although mortally wounded, Brooks fell against a telephone pole fired two shots at the fleeing bandits who returned fire. Loosing strength in his legs, Brooks fell to the ground but managed to empty his revolver at the suspects.

Quickly, there were 20 people surrounding the fallen officer. One was Dr. T.E. Taggert who had run to the corner after hearing the shots from his nearby residence. Dr. Taggert knew there was no time to wait for an ambulance, including LAPD’s, which was horse drawn. The Dr flagged down a passing auto and directed the driver to Central Hospital. This was the infancy of gasoline powered cars, and they were quite bumpy and slow. Despite being only minutes from death, Patrolman Brooks managed to utter what he was thinking in those fleeting moments. “If I had only been a little quicker,” he said between gasps, “I would have got those fellows.”

When the driver of the car was unsure where the entrance to Central hospital was, he

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Central station which also housed Central hospital where Patrolman Brooks was transported. Circa 1910.

stopped in front of Central police station. Captain Avery Bradish came running out and with help from others carried Brooks around the corner to the hospital entrance. As they carried the officer into the emergency room, a doctor asked what was going on. Captain Bradish said, “It is some private watchman, I guess. Shot somewhere by thugs.” But then, as if coming back from the dead, Brooks lifted his head and said in clear voice, “Captain, I am a patrolman, I belong to University Station. Brooks is my name—David Brooks. I am one of your men.” The captain quickly told the officer that indeed, he now recognized him, and taking his hand, calling him Davy, he tried to be positive and cheer up the stricken officer.

 

After just eight minutes on the operating table Brooks uttered his last words, “I ought to have got ‘em, but I was a little nervous—I was a little shaky, you know, I—.” His head fell back onto the table and Patrolman David Brooks was dead. LAPD detectives made several arrest, but after questioning, all of the men were released. The hunt for Brook’s killers continued in earnest for months but eventually all leads failed to reveal the killers. Over the years, the suspects were never identified and the case remains unsolved.

David Brooks was born March 6, 1872 in Ohio, the eldest of five children whose father was a farmer. Moving to Los Angeles in 1896, Brooks was working as a streetcar conductor. In 1898, he married and had three sons—David Jr., born in 1899; Walter, born in 1901; and Frederic, born in 1903 at about the same time Brooks joined the LAPD, assigned to University Station.

A month after his death, LAPD hosted a concert and ball to raise money to benefit his widow and the three children. Nearly 3,000 people attended including the mayor and Chief of Police Alexander Galloway. The event raised $4,000 which in today’s money would be $100,000.

Officer Brooks was buried at Inglewood Park Cemetery. His widow, Ottilie, died in 1948 in Los Angeles at the age of 71. She is buried next to her husband.

Any comments please email at jabultema@lapdhistory.com

Guardians of Angels: 2014 in review

The WordPress.com stats experts prepared a 2014 annual report for Guardians of Angels: A History of the Los Angeles Police Department.

Here’s an excerpt:

A New York City subway train holds 1,200 people. This blog was viewed about 3,800 times in 2014. If it were a NYC subway train, it would take about 3 trips to carry that many people. Thank you all for showing an interest in the history of the Los Angeles Police Department.

Click here to see the complete report.

INSIDE AN ADAM-12-ERA PATROL CAR

Editor’s note: The following article is printed with permission from Michael Sellars, editor of The Rotator, The Newsletter for LAPD Reserve Officers, Volume 11, Winter 2012. The photographs are from this author.

1973 AMC Matador as seen on Adam-12

1973 AMC Matador as seen on Adam-12

Jack Webb was a stickler for detail and authenticity in his television series Dragnet and Adam-12. For Adam-12 (which ran from 1968 to 1975), the inside of the Rampart station was duplicated exactly on the Universal sound stages, right down to the doorknobs. Mark Galoustian, a specialist with the Corps, is equally meticulous when it comes to the refurbished Adam-12-era car he owns and carefully maintains.

He describes the inside of a “shop” during those days:

“The ‘Hot-Sheet’ (the latest off of the teletype at the start of the shift) would slidedesktop

behind the Plexiglas and was illuminated by two small bulbs from behind at night. Your partner would scan the sheet for stolen or wanted license plate numbers. The shotgun was locked in front of the front seat and an additional shotgun rack was in the trunk. There were handheld spotlights and a four-channel Motorola radio (Ch. 1—dispatch, Ch 2-4—‘tac’ frequencies). You could not hear other officers talking to dispatch; you couldadam12_RADIO

not talk to other officers in the field without switching to a tac frequency; and you could not hear dispatch when switched to tac. At the time, there were no ‘rovers’ either. Officers would hang the mic out the window during stops in order to hear the radio. The batons were slid into radiator hoses on both front doors that MTD installed. The supervisor cars had a second or third radio installed to monitor other channels at one time. It wasn’t until the early 1970s that the standard patrol cars had ‘cheater’ radio installed. The cheater would allow officers to still hear dispatch while talking to other units on the tac ( a second speaker was mounted on the rear deck above the rear seat).

“The two ‘can lights’ on the roof were used by LAPD from the early 1950s until 1978. The early lights were made by S&M Lamp Co. (Model 757) and were red/red. California did not adapt the rear amber light requirement until 1964. That year, S&M Lamp Co. went out of business, so Trio-Sales Co. made the lights for LAPD as Model T-2 lights with flashing ambers to the rear and steady red to the front. To be ‘LAPD correct,’ the ambers flashed separately: They didn’t want a shop to go out of service for a burned-out flasher, so each light had its own flasher. On Adam-12, the lights alternated the flash. These can lights eventually had to be replaced due to side warning issues. Also, the Olympic Games were coming to Los Angeles, and the international visitors typically recognized blue as emergency vehicle lighting. Most of the old can lights were scraped, making them hard to find and thus priced at a premium.” The “Hot-Sheet” desks were also scrapped, and Marks says he knows of only four or five that are still in existence.

“This era car had no A/C, no power windows, a bench seat (bad news if the driver was shorter than the passenger), bias ply tires (no metal reinforcement) and no power steering.”

1911 LAPD: A Leader in Technology … Well, Sort Of

In 1911, the Los Angeles Times warned “Lawbreakers Beware” as the Los Angeles Police Department was at again. You see, LAPD loves technology—whatever it takes to get one-up on the bad guys. Seemingly always outnumbered, the department of 1911 had to be inventive; so as they would throughout their history, its leaders instinctively turned to technology.

An LAPD officer trying out the "Power Skates."

An LAPD officer trying out the “Power Skates.”

With the benefit of cutting-edge devices, the modern LAPD patrolled the entire city in the early 20th century using automobiles and motorcycles, leaving the old, dependable foot beat cop in the dust. The new machinery only seemed to emphasize the slowness of patrolmen. But the street-smart cop was not about to fade away like his four-legged friends.

So when a local citizen came to then Chief Charles Sebastian (1911-1915) with an invention to literally propel the foot beat cop as fast as those in the new automobile, the chief quickly ordered a field trial of what Mr. Herbert Chamberlin termed his “Power Skates.” According to his design, these specially created skates would allow properly equipped foot beat officers to “speed past” their motorized colleagues. There were two types of these skates: One had two wheels and was a “high-speed” design that would allow the cop to reach speeds up to 30 miles per hour; the other had four wheels for each skate and was for regular, slower foot beat duty. The skates were propelled by the weight of the officer stepping forward as if walking; a worm gear “commuting the vertical to circular motion” drove the officer forward—or so it was promised.

As history would have it, the “Power Skates” were not approved, possibly saving hundreds of days of lost time from injuries—as the one big drawback of the design was clear: no brakes!

Foreword to “Guardians of Angels” by LAPD Chief Charlie Beck

FOREWORD

chief_beck[1]The Los Angeles Police Department has a long and storied past that is intertwined and entangled with the history of the great city it serves. From a sleepy pueblo by a river that was protected by a force of six officers to America’s second largest city patrolled by ten thousand officers, the City of Los Angeles and the Los Angeles Police Department have grown up together. That growth has resulted in a city that is uniquely situated as a global leader in commerce and entertainment as well as being the pathfinder for cultural trends worldwide. It has also produced a police department that is seen as a world leader in law enforcement. The strategies and practices of the Los Angeles Police Department are emulated by police agencies around the world.

But there is a darker side to the history of both the City and its police department. Just as we have been heralded as leaders in community policing we have also been at the center of the controversy which caused two of the largest riots in our nation’s history. We are well known as being the architects of the professional model of policing under Chief William H. Parker and in contrast have been characterized as America’s most corrupt police force during the reign of his predecessors. Our use of force policies and techniques are copied worldwide but we are still haunted by the specters of brutality raised during the 1990s.

As you can well see we are a Department of deep contrast and that is what is captured so brilliantly in the writings of James Bultema. He’s captured the history of this great organization and brings it to life on the pages of Guardians of Angels – A History of the Los Angeles Police Department. I know because the history of this police department is my history. From the experiences of my father who joined the force in 1950 and rose to the rank of Assistant Chief, to my own time serving in every rank up to and including Chief of Police. I have been a student of this place and lived its history. I now see it through the eyes of my two children who are Los Angeles Police Department officers and you can bet that I will encourage them to read this book so they have a sense of where they have come from and where we need to go. But I think the ultimate praise comes from my Father George Beck. I asked him to read the draft copy I was provided and to give me his comments. He is a direct man who chooses his words well and his comment was “I think he got it right.” Enjoy your reading!

Charlie Beck

Why Guardians of Angels?

John Powers, while waiting for an ambulance to arrive, describes the details of the shooting to a detective, his wounded partner next to him.

  • John Powers, while waiting for an ambulance to arrive, describes the details of the shooting to a detective, his wounded partner next to him.

Everyone and everything has a history. Yet for the Los Angeles Police Department, it has been more than 75 years since the last in-depth historical account was written about—75 years since anyone has chronicled where the department has come from and what makes today’s officers who and what they are. I thought it was time for a new comprehensive examination of the LAPD. Not some boring factual account of its history, but engaging stories told by the men and women who lived them.

Guardians of Angels: A History of the Los Angeles Police Department details how the department started with just six hard-fighting, Wild West cops transformed over the next 160 years into the modern, technologically advanced LAPD of today. With the use of hundreds of rare photographs and scores of interviews, the book brings the history of the department to life—turning readers into time-traveling witnesses into the very essence of what makes LAPD such a major player in the world of law enforcement. When Chief of Police William Warren is gunned down in the dirt streets of Los Angeles by another officer over reward money, you can almost smell the smoke in the air from the gunfire. It’s the stories that make history so fascinating.

Guardians of Angels uses many first-hand accounts taken from either the person making history or from primary documents of the time. When John “Two Gun” Powers talks in detail on how he earned the nickname of “Two Gun,” he gets your attention:

He [the suspect] fired that .45 and I didn’t even think, my reflexes just took over, and I drew my gun…and I emptied it at the suspect with the .45. He went down—he went down hard—and the .45 skidded out of his hand. I had hit him twice, so he was down and out. So I take a deep breath and I hear shots on the other side of the car….

That’s the power of first-hand accounts. When Powers told me what happened that fateful day, I could visualize the suspect firing his gun and being hit with return fire. I could see him go down and watched as the .45 noisily skidded across the payment. This is want I want the reader to experience throughout the entire book—a 3-diminisional history coming to life right before your eyes. This is what Guardians of Angels is all about.

While its badge has varied—from a tin star of the 1800s to the most recognizable police shield in the world today—the symbol of the LAPD has always carried the same promise, just as the wearer carries the same responsibility. Each officer who has pinned on this badge, holstered a gun and traveled the corridors of history has left behind the rich traditions that are today the Los Angeles Police Department. The chronicle of the LAPD is the story of these men and women who have committed themselves as the guardians of the city of Angels.