|
|
Steve Barber and his children, Alaina and Daniel, pay their respects to slain detectives Ricky Childers and Randy Bell. Scott Martin for the Tribune |
|
TAMPA - Detectives Randy Bell and Ricky Childers - partners in life and partners in death - are laid to rest as the city grieves.
Tampa bid a sorrowful farewell to two fallen officers Saturday, its collective heart breaking at the loss of men whose lives were a tribute to goodness and justice.
Nearly 7,000 mourners came to say goodbye to Detectives Randy Bell and Ricky Childers in what some said was the saddest day in Tampa's history. A solemn hush settled over the Tampa Convention Center for more than three hours as mourners paid their respects.
``To Randy and Ricky, until we meet again, I love you oh so much,'' Tampa police Lt. George McNamara, his voice trembling with emotion, said in his eulogy to the men. ``Please pray for us.''
Bell, 44, and Childers, 46, are both survived by wives and children. They were praised as devoted husbands and fathers who died doing the one thing they knew was most important: protecting children.
Tampa Police officers in their dress black uniforms were joined by law enforcement officers from around the country and Canada.
The officers filed past the flag-draped coffins and stopped to salute. One officer brought his young daughter and lifted her to place a flower on Childers' casket.
Every 30 minutes, the funeral halted for the changing of the honor guard stationed at each of the two caskets.
In slow motion, five guards stepped before portraits of the detectives and bowed their heads before delivering a deliberate, five-second salute. The crowd held its breath.
The veteran detectives were gunned down Tuesday while investigating the suspicious death of 4-year-old Joey Bennett. They were shot in their car by Hank Earl Carr, a career criminal, who unlocked his handcuffs with a hidden key and shot both detectives with a gun he took from Childers.
Carr then went on a high-speed shooting rampage, killing Florida Highway Patrol Trooper James B. Crooks in Pasco County and injuring a truck driver. Carr killed himself after a standoff at a Hernando County gas station.
Crooks was buried Friday at a Clewiston funeral attended by many of the same officers.
``Our hearts are saddened by the great loss of these outstanding officers,'' said Tampa police Chief Bennie Holder. ``It does my heart good to know I worked with two of Tampa's finest law enforcement officers.''
The voices of about 200 members of two church choirs, from Riverhills Church of God and Revealing Truth Ministries, gave power to hymns of sacrifice and redemption.
``There is something about death that leaves us speechless,'' said the Rev. Ken Whitten of Idlewild Baptist Church during his funeral sermon. ``There is something about death that makes us realize heaven is silent.''
Some watched wide-eyed and others stifled tears as McNamara walked to the stage to deliver the first eulogy, pausing to kiss each of the caskets and hugging and comforting the widows and children. McNamara spent 10 years on the homicide squad with Bell and Childers, first as a fellow detective and then as their sergeant.
He called the events of the last few days a ``nightmare that won't go away.''
``Last night as I stood in front of the funeral home,'' McNamara said, ``a woman I know who Detective Bell took under his wing asked me, `George, why did God take away my hero?'
``I told her one day, when I get to heaven, I'll find out. ... But for now there are no answers.''
Detective James S. Noblitt, who taught Childers the ways of police work and later worked with him in the homicide unit, said Childers and Bell were happy in their work and so proud of their children. They died doing what they believed was noble work, he said.
``What's really important for these families to know and for all these cops to know is once again they were trying to protect a little child,'' Noblitt said. ``The last thing Ricky said as he walked away from the house was he was sick of people killing kids.''
The eulogies were not all sad.
 |
| A solid column of parked police vehicles fill Ashley Drive near the Tampa Convention Center Saturday during the memorial service for slain detectives Randy Bell and Ricky Childers. TODD L. CHAPPEL/Tribune photo from Eagle 8 |
Whitten told the crowd to take the time to thank the men and women who work in law enforcement.
``Say to them, `Randy Bell and Ricky Childers represented you well, and they died with dignity and they died with honor,' '' Whitten said. ``We are safe because you serve. We have refuge because you take risk. We sleep at night because many of you do not.''
The Rev. Dan R. Dempsey of the Riverhills Church of God called Saturday the darkest day in Tampa's history. Dempsey told the crowd that people from all walks of life had been touched by the loss of the detectives, recounting how he saw a homeless woman stop at the Tampa police memorial this week and lay down a withered flower.
``We cannot just have a moment ... this should be life changing,'' he said, adding that people should be disturbed about what's happening in their families and their communities. He urged them to assist the police in keeping their children and neighbors on the right path.
``Let's never forget, let's seize the moment,'' Dempsey said. ``My challenge to you is let's never go back.''
After the service, officers slowly filed onto the circular drive where the hearses waited. At first they trickled out, then a seemingly endless line emerged from the convention center.
Inside, the officer's families and relatives remained in a small section of seats. Then they stood together, moved slowly toward the caskets and paused. Some touched the flags. Others blessed themselves before wiping away tears.
Their pain was palpable.
Outside, the officers stood shoulder to shoulder, hands clasped behind their backs. They waited still and silent, sweltering in the 87-degree heat.
The call of ``Detail, ten-hut!'' broke the silence as the officers snapped to attention - feet together, arms by their sides.
When the families emerged, a light breeze picked up the flags that flew at half staff. The widows, supported on each arm, led the walk past the ranks of officers to the waiting cars and limousines.
The officers held a long salute as the flag-draped caskets moved past their ranks to the hearses. The caskets were loaded simultaneously. As the rear doors to the hearses clicked shut, commanders barked, ``Detail, dismissed!''
A massive motorcade of emergency vehicles from counties across Florida escorted the officers about five miles to Garden of Memories Myrtle Hill Cemetery. The serpentine procession, dotted with blinking lights, took 45 minutes to wind through downtown on its way to the east Tampa cemetery.
In the crowd at the convention center, the preachers' words were taken to heart almost immediately.
Outside the convention center, Sandra Hargrett of Tampa watched the police motorcycles line up. She had seen the detectives at the health center where she works, but didn't know them.
All week, Hargrett and her co- workers talked of how the detectives' slayings cast a pall on the community.
``We've got to get our families in hand,'' she said. ``We have to start raising a bunch of people who are contributors to society, not killers and abusers.''
Joanne Natalizio was there to pay her respects, too.
``The community really came together,'' she said. ``Those men were here to protect me. I should be here to say goodbye.''
. Staff Writers Neil Johnson, Peter E. Howard and Tracie Reddick contributed to this report. Vickie Chachere can be reached at (813) 259-7624.
Our video partners