Click on the signposts of death above for photos of the funerals.

On Monday, March 10, 2003, we lost two brave members of the department when a couple of mutts decided to turn an illegal gun sale into a robbery. Undercover Detectives Rodney Andrews and James Nemorin had arranged to purchase a Tech-9 through a contact that had produced a successful gun buy before. But instead of exchanging the gun for cash, these lowlifes decided to steal the money at gunpoint.

So much for honor among thieves. 

After executing two detectives who risked their lives every day making this city safer for all of us, the gun dealers threw their victims’ lifeless bodies on the street like trash. Two patrol officers grabbed one of the two culprits almost immediately after the assassination while the shooter managed to flee. A manhunt in several states resulted in five arrests, including the alleged shooter and several others for attempting to hide the fugitives.

On the evening of the shooting PBA President Pat Lynch was joined by hundreds of fellow officers plus PBA board members and delegates at St. Vincent’s Hospital on Staten Island where the bodies of the hero detectives were taken. Staten Island had been literally closed off from the rest of the city while the department mobilized to collar everyone involved in the killing and gun sale: the shooter, the gun supplier, the people who hid the perps or the gun — everyone was a collar, just as it should be.

This tragic event has changed many lives. Five children no longer have fathers.  Families have lost loved ones. A city is left raw and impoverished by the tragedy.

But it doesn’t stop there. 

Somewhere in the metropolitan area on the evening that these two brave detectives were executed by cowardly gun dealers-turned robbers, a young boy or girl — children of a cop — came to the sudden realization that the job their mother or father does is a dangerous one. It hit that youngster hard that maybe one day, God forbid, that parent wouldn’t be coming home from work, just like Andrews and Nemorin didn’t on the evening of March 10, 2003.

That’s the reality of being a police officer in New York City or anywhere else for that matter. Policing is a noble profession with a vast impact on those who practice it and on their families as well.

So why do we subject ourselves to the dangers and uncertainty?

That’s a tough one to answer, but maybe we can find a clue in the words that Staten Island citizens left tacked to a tree at the shooting scene:

Our Heroes of Blue

Our heroes of blue have fallen,
A time of peace is calling
For you to go with God above.
He’ll give you wings of blue with love
To send a message for everyone
To remember the lives and what was done.
A dream fulfilled of our angels of blue,
We honor you for the job you swore to do,
A promise was kept from heroes like you.
You put your life on the line each day
To protect and serve in every way,
And to give you thanks we will do our part
To share your message and keep you in our heart.

That poem at that curbside memorial explains it better than anything else can. There was a literal sea of blue at both detectives’ funerals. Thousands upon thousands from our own ranks and from departments across the nation stood tall to honor and respect their fallen brothers-in-arms and to send a message to would-be cop killers that we stand together. Attack one of us and answer to all of us. 

Pat Lynch and his fellow officers were proud to stand and wear the blue at those funerals.  We pray we don’t ever have to do it again.

Be proud, be smart and be careful.