This story is about one day, October 14, 1991. Yet, other important dates led up to that day. The first is October 19, 1984. On this day, President Ronald Reagan signed Public Law 98-535. The second is October 30, 1989. On this day, a groundbreaking occurred. Throughout this almost seven years, Keith Bettinger, a Suffolk County (NY) officer, shared in the vision, the hope and the realization of a dream: creation of the National Law Enforcement Officer Memorial (NLEOM).
A Part of It
"Between 1988 and 2002, I did grief support for Concerns of Police Survivors (COPS), an organization dedicated to helping the families, friends and co-workers of fallen law enforcement officers," Bettinger says. He attended sessions provided by COPS, the Fraternal Order of Police (FOP) Memorial Service and the Candlelight vigil at the ground of the NLEOM each year. "In order to tell you what I first thought of the memorial, I have to go back to when it was an abandoned lot," he says. "I looked at this field with construction equipment, boards placed to walk on, and debris lying around and couldn't comprehend what it would look like." When it came time to see the final result of an act of Congress, generous private donations and the heartfelt planning and designing by numerous individuals, Bettinger was invited. "In 1991, Suzie Sawyer, the executive director of COPS called," he explains. "She said they needed grief support personnel at the memorial and asked would I please volunteer my services. I was happy to volunteer." So, once more he headed to Washington, D.C.
The Wall
Designed by Architect Davis Buckley, the wall includes a reflecting pool surrounded by two tree-lined "pathways of remembrance" and rests on a three-acre of federal park land called Judiciary Square. Along the walkways, blue-gray marble walls sit inscribed with the names of officers killed in the line of duty since the first known in 1792. Benches run the length and provide a place for survivors to sit opposite the name of a person still loved. At dedication, the wall bore, in random order, 12,561 names. Meticulously cared for, the grounds of the park offer solace and comfort to the survivors who visit to pay respect to those who made the ultimate sacrifice. Plush carpets of grass, 60,000 plants and 128 trees adorn the grounds, and every April, nearly 14,000 daffodils brighten the walkways welcoming visitors and spring. Statuary guard the entrance of each pathway. An adult lion, sculpted in bronze, stands protecting its cubs and depicts the protective role of our law enforcement officers. On the Memorial's east wall, an inscription reads, "In Valor There is Hope."
October 14, 1991
During the three days he attended the memorial doing grief support, Bettinger spent over eight hours at the wall this day and met a myriad of survivors. "I was at the monument on October 14th and was amazed by the many different ways people dealt with their missing loved ones," he writes in "Our Monument at Last." "Many left flowers, especially single red roses, at the section with their loved one's name. Fellow officers taped patches or business cards near a fallen comrade's name. One family left a cross of flowers with a photostat of a newspaper article, whose headline read, "Killer Convicted." There were also crayon drawings from children to mommies and daddies who no longer come home from work." Surrounded by the lush park, he "was especially moved by the reactions of the people (he) saw that day."
"Roy Bamsch and his wife Mickey lost their son Johnny Bamsch on January 31, 1975," Bettinger says. "He was their only child." Roy was a dignified, older gentleman and he picked a Black-Eyed Susan, taping it next to his son's name. "Mickey was too ill to attend the dedication. [Roy] looked so alone and I was assigned to keep people from feeling alone," Bettinger explains. "I finally got to take the photo of him with his camera standing next to Johnny's name on the wall. He needed that to show Mickey." Roy and Mickey became like second parents to Bettinger and he did all he could to keep Johnny's murderer in prison. "I helped organize letter writing campaigns," he writes including giving extra credit to his college students for petitioning the Texas Parole Board.
With the Capitol bustling around it, Judiciary Square became quiet. Conversations stopped. Heads bowed. The names began. State by state. Name by name. Voices of friends and family, survivors, formed the words. Breathing remembrance and life into them, the inscriptions on the wall became memories of people who had once lived, served their communities and died protecting America. For 24 hours, the names echoed in the air. Bettinger's strongest memory was these readings. "It includes hearing one officer reading names from his state and the sudden onset of tears and a broken voice as he said, 'and my partner…'" And "the voice of a young girl who read names and announced through tears, 'and my daddy…,'" he says.
Some officers came to the dedication for the camaraderie and to see the memorial. But, purposes often change. "I met two gentlemen from Detroit," Bettinger explains. "Marv, who is a retired police officer and his friend Terry, who is still working as a police officer. Shortly after they arrived, they started to meet the survivors, and suddenly, they found the true purpose of their trip, to be with the survivors and share the experience with them." While they were there, a friend told them of a man there to hear his son's name. Scheduled to be said at 1:30 AM, he would be facing this night and this memory alone. Marv and Terry got into uniform and formed an honor guard beside this father, one on either side of him. "As each name from his (son's) state was called, this proud survivor stood and saluted," Bettinger recalls. "The biggest gift they gave was their time and presence at the memorial when the fallen officer/son's name was read. If you give a piece of your heart to someone there is no greater gift to give that person."
October 15, 1991
On a warm, sunny day, the last of the names were read. President George H.W. Bush and Mrs. Bush joined the memorial committee, survivors and supporters, and the National Law Enforcement Memorial was dedicated. "It was a gift from a caring America," says Bettinger. "It was a wonderful experience. Seeing the senior President Bush giving a speech to all that attended, seeing the officers from far and wide in and out of uniform that came to pay their respects, it simply was amazing and overwhelming."
Bettinger visited the Memorial every year from 1988 through 2002, his last year serving COPS in grief support. Now 17,500 names adorn the wall and each year a ceremony remembers the original dedication. Why do people come and embrace their sorrow? "It's hard to comprehend why people would be happy to see a dead relative's name, but when you realize there are thousands of names, each one has a family and a story, and it brings people who don't know one another together," Bettinger says. "What a gift this memorial is to the survivors." Bettinger encourages everyone to visit the Memorial. "You will be drawn to its simple beauty and silence while walking through," he says. "It is so peaceful. It is truly hallowed ground to the law enforcement community."