Remembering NYPD Police Officer Jonathan Diller

I am sitting here this morning feeling numb over the senseless murder of NYPD Police Officer Jonathan Diller.

P.O. Diller was killed by a career criminal, with over twenty prior arrests, including a gun charge, during a traffic stop in Far Rockaway, Queens.  I did not know Officer Diller, as I retired nearly twenty years ago, but I am proud to call him my brother. It is a family bond, not born through shared blood, but of one much stronger: the shared blood of those we have lost since the Department’s inception.

Growing up in Queens, my dream was to one day be a New York City Police Officer. That dream came to fruition in January 1985, when I was sworn-in to the Department. That dream became a nightmare exactly one year later when, as a rookie cop, I responded to the murder of Detective Anthony Venditti. Less than six months later, Police Officer Scott Gadell, a member of my squad in the 101 Precinct was murdered. I worked with Scott the night before, and nearly forty years later I can still recall the moments of that last night.

These two events drove home the harsh reality of being an NYPD cop. In the following years, the list of those making the ultimate sacrifice would grow longer and funerals became a common occurrence. Each one a reminder to those of us attending of the dangers we faced daily and a testament to the Department motto: Fidelis Ad Mortem, Faithful Unto Death.

While Officer Diller’s sacrifice will be solemnly recognized by his family, both blood and blue, it will be used as a platform for some of the most vile and reprehensible people I know: politicians.

Already, social media is rife with commentary from members of the New York City political scene, thumping their chest and decrying this senseless act. Yet these very same people are the ones directly responsible for the environment that caused it.

The truth is, being a cop is a thankless job. You are the enforcement arm of the state, and your presence never makes anyone feel better. We have the power to arrest and take away your rights. Most times we get it right, sometimes we don’t. Despite the training, despite the overwhelming desire to do good, we are only humans, just like everyone else, but we are expected to be better and we should be. It is however a requirement for any civilized society. We are the ones who willingly sacrifice our lives to protect the innocent.

Over the last decade plus, I have watched with dismay this growing trend to vilify the police at almost every turn and I have written about it before: STOP BLAMING THE COPS. Tragedies, exploited for cause, used to disparage the men and women of law enforcement. I get the politicians; they’ve become so dishonest that we don’t even realize the true extent that they lie for political gain. What bothers me is the average citizen who believes them. Perhaps it is a lack of civics in schools now, but it seems to me that most people don’t understand how our system of government operates.

Blaming the police for enforcing the law highlights the ignorance of people. We are the enforcement arm, but we are not the legislative arm. We take an oath and our duty is to enforce the law. The police do not create these laws, the politicians do. They are the same folks who stand in front of the cameras (or get on social media) and attack the police when an arrest goes bad, but neglect to mention that they are the ones who made the laws they expect the police to enforce.  It’s a great job, because the average citizen buys into these nonsensical claims they make and keep re-electing them. Explain to me, like I’m three, how it makes any sense to you that politicians pass laws for the police to enforce, but at the same time condemn them for enforcing them? You’re damned if you do your job and you’re damned if you don’t.

I keep hoping that this will be the last time I have to express my outrage about another senseless murder of a NYC Cop, but I know it won’t be. It wasn’t the last time when I wrote about the deaths of Police Officers Jason Rivera and Wilbert Mora. Nor was it the last when I wrote about the death of Police Officer Miosotis Familia, or Police Officer Brian Moore, or Police Officers Rafael Ramos and Wenjian Liu.  

Having been a cop back in the 80s, when we were both short staffed and dealing with the explosion of drugs, I thought I’d seen it all, but as I look back, I realize how good we had it. Yes, the streets were dangerous, but the threat was always in front of us. We never really had to worry about being stabbed in the back by the politicians and, for the most part, the citizens supported us. I could not imagine trying to pursue my childhood dream of being a cop today.

The NYPD will soon bury our lost brother, and he will be posthumously awarded the Medal of Honor and promoted to the rank of Detective. We will grieve his loss, alongside his family, but then the job will do what it has always done: Go back to work. Whether you like them or not, you need to remember that the men and women of the NYPD are the last line of defense; the brave souls who stand in the breach, against the violence and anarchy that lies in wait.

It would behoove the citizens of this once great city to wake up and decide who you are going to support. Those who work tirelessly to protect you or the politicians and district attorneys who have acted recklessly, who have pushed for soft on crime measures, and then lie and blame the police when those steps prove ineffective?

No one would be shocked if a child, who grew up watching one of their parents mentally and physically abuse the other, did the same thing when they grew up. Yet somehow we act shocked when our elected representatives sow the seeds of discontent, the fires of which are fanned by the media, that lead to these types of attacks being committed against on our police.

You elect them folks and they are your responsibility. If you no longer feel safe, if you are worried about becoming a victim every time you leave your home, then maybe it’s time to find new leadership. It took decades of NYC sinking into a cesspool of crime and poor quality of life conditions in order to elect Mayor Rudy Giuliani. It took much less time to piss it all away again. It’s up to you to change the course that the City is heading.

Don’t let Officer Diller’s death be in vain. Remember him when you head to the ballot box on election day; remember the wife and young child he left behind serving this once great City. Change begins when the good people of New York City stand up to the political cowards and say, ‘Enough.’

Mourning the death of NYPD Police Officer Wilbert Mora

On January 21st, 2022, NYPD Police Officer Wilbert Mora was shot in the line of duty. His partner, Jason Rivera, was also shot and died of his wounds that night. Officer Mora was taken to the hospital, but I am saddened to report that he succumbed to his wounds on January 25th.

The loss of any officer’s life is tragic, but the death of two officers is a brutal reminder of just how difficult being a cop is. I didn’t know them personally, but they were my brother’s none-the-less. We forged our bond when they took their oath of office and joined the greatest police department in the world. They became part of a select fraternity of men and women who have become NY’s Finest.

Officer Rivera and Mora’s NYPD careers were cut short, but their names will live on forever. They embody the Department Motto: Fidelis Ad Mortem - Faithful Unto Death. This will come as little solace for their families, but within the NYPD there is no greater honor and we do not forget our fallen.

Reflecting on their deaths, I cannot help but think about the unfortunate history the NYPD has. As the Nation’s largest municipal police department, line of duty deaths are a grim reality. And while the loss of one officer is heartbreaking, the NYPD has lost a number of partners over the years, including:

Officers Victor Cooper and Clarence Clark (1938)

Officers Peter Knudson and Francis O’Hara (1946)

Detectives Luke Fallon and John Finnegan (1962)

Detectives James Donegan and Salvatore Potenza (1964)

Officers George Bishop and Plato Arvanitis (1969)

Officers Patrick Harrington and Joseph Mariconda (1970)

Officers Joseph Piagentini and Waverly Jones (1971)

Officers Gregory Foster and Rocco Laurie (1972)

Sergeant Frederick Reddy and Officer Andrew Glover (1975)

Officers Christie Masone and Norman Cerullo (1978)

Officers James Rowley and Charles Trojahn (1983)

Auxiliary Sergeants Larry Cohen and Noel Faide (1989)

Detectives Keith Williams and Richard J. Guerzon (1989)

Detectives Rodney Andrews and James Nemorin (2003)

Detectives Patrick Rafferty and Robert Parker (2004)

Auxiliary Officers Eugene Marshalik and Nicholas Pekearo (2007)

Officers Rafael Ramos and Wenjian Liu (2014)

To the family of Officer Mora, there are no words that I can give you that will take away the pain. Just know that you do not grieve alone. The tens of thousands of active and retired members of the greatest police department in the world mourn with you and Jason’s family and their sacrifice will never be forgotten.

Fidelis Ad Mortem

Mourning the death of NYPD Police Officer Jason Rivera

This morning I watched the sun crest over the horizon, as beautiful as it was, a coldness gripped my heart, knowing that one thousand miles east, the family of NYPD Police Officer Jason Rivera was waking and preparing to make funeral arrangements for their fallen warrior; a brother of mine whom I didn’t know personally, but a brother none-the-less when he took his oath to be a New York City Police Officer. He died 37 years to the day that I took my oath of office, and 36 years to the day we lost Detective Anthony Venditti.

A career criminal cut Officer Rivera’s NYPD career short last night, but his name will live on forever. He embodies the Department Motto: Fidelis Ad Mortem - Faithful Unto Death. This will come as little solace for his family, but within the NYPD there is no greater honor and we do not forget our fallen.

At the same time, we must put aside our pain and continue to pray for his partner, Police Officer Wilbert Mora, who remains in critical condition.

Demonizing the police has become the rage in recent years among politicians and activists who see them, and not the criminals, as the real threat to society. Yet the group that continually admonishes us not to see race, are the first to paint all cops as being racist. They refuse to acknowledge the ultimate sacrifices of officers such as Wen Jian Liu, Rafael Ramos, Miosotis Familia, Randolph Holder, and now Jason Rivera, choosing to see only the color of the uniforms they wore. They ignore the vast majority of officers who entered their professions to make a difference in their communities; officers who chose to put deeds before words. Let us take a moment to reflect that over one thousand members of the NYPD have paid the ultimate price for the citizens of their city.

What I do know is this. Today, thousands of officers will slip a black mourning band onto their shield, putting aside their pain at the loss of their brother, and will go out and do their job to protect the citizens of New York City. It is a time-honored tradition that I am all too familiar with.

To the family of Officer Rivera, there are no words that I can give you that will take away the pain. Just know that you do not grieve alone. The tens of thousands of active and retired members of the greatest police department in the world mourn with you and Jason’s sacrifice will never be forgotten.

Fidelis Ad Mortem

September 11th – Never Forget

It’s funny to me that each September you begin hearing the words ‘Never Forget’ being repeated.

I don’t say this dismissively, and I am truly grateful to all those who remember the bravery and faithfulness of our fallen, but as I look around at what is going on in this country I cannot help but feel these words are becoming hollow platitudes.

Just recently, the 9/11 community was in an all-out political battle to fight for funding to treat many of us who are sick as a result of the toxins we ingested back then. September 12th, 2002, united this country and gave rise to the words ‘Never Forget.’ Yet the same politicians who draped themselves in the flag and chastised us to not forget were the very same ones who pushed back on the promise this country made to us.

I look around and I am deeply troubled, as I see this new generation, many whom were not even alive when the terror attack occurred, desecrating memorials to our fallen heroes and victims, because they go against their current world view. Those people who have never put themselves in harm’s way for another human being, mocking those that gave the last full measure.

 The words ‘Never Forget’ mean something different to a select few. While the world proclaims that we should Never Forget, some understand that for them it is ‘Can’t Forget.’

Can’t Forget means that you can never look at a clear blue sky and find comfort.

Can’t Forget means that the sound of a low flying plane sends a wave of panic through you.

Can’t Forget means that in the shadow of a global pandemic a mask brings no comfort, only bad memories.

Can’t Forget means that the sight of flames and the scent of acrid smoke forever rekindles a hell that no one should ever know.

Can’t Forget means that to those who wear this, you are bound to a brother & sisterhood that is sacred, not for what we did, but for what they gave:  Fidelis Ad Mortem

NYPD World Trade Center Medal

NYPD World Trade Center Medal

Can’t Forget means that, by the grace of God, you survived, but the names and faces of those we lost are forever etched into our hearts and minds.

From this day to the ending of the world,
But we in it shall be remembered-
We few, we happy few, we band of brothers;
For he to-day that sheds his blood with me
Shall be my brother; be he ne'er so vile,
This day shall gentle his condition;
And gentlemen in England now-a-bed
Shall think themselves accurs'd they were not here,
And hold their manhoods cheap whiles any speaks
That fought with us upon Saint Crispin's day
.” - William Shakespeare’s Henry V

Lieutenant (Ret.) Paul Murphy, NYPD - Fidelis Ad Mortem

Today is a profoundly sad day for me.

I believed that my first post of the New Year was going to be a happy one. One where I would be proud to announce the release of the print edition of my latest book: Brooklyn Bounce, but the mood was tampered by the announcement this week that my friend and NYPD colleague, Paul Murphy, had died unexpectedly from his 9/11 cancer.

I stood shoulder to shoulder with Paul on 9/11, as we evacuated people from lower Manhattan. I remember that Godforsaken smoke that wafted through the air and left everything covered in a heavy, grey layer. We knew that we were being exposed to toxins that day, but it didn’t matter. The only thing that really mattered was that we had an obligation to the citizens of New York City and we fulfilled it honorably.

In the days following 9/11 we were told by the EPA that the air was safe, but we knew better. There was no way you could walk through the streets of lower Manhattan and think that any of it was safe. It was patently absurd. Still, we did our jobs, putting ourselves in harm’s way because it was who we were; who we had always been. In the proceeding days I saw the best of humanity: They wore police uniforms, fire department turnout gear, construction boots, or the comforting attire of the Salvation Army.

And in many ways I also saw the worst. 

But I am here today to tell you that Paul Murphy represented the best and I know that first hand.

The full measure of that sacrifice would not be felt until he contacted me and told me that he’d contracted 9/11 related cancer. Paul might not have been the biggest man on the block, but by God he had the heart of Mike Tyson beating within his chest. Cancer might have finally beaten him, but I can tell you with complete certainty that it didn’t end till the bell rang in the 15th round and cancer had gotten its ass whooped like Apollo Creed in the first Rocky movie.

To his amazing wife and his two incredible daughters, please know that your husband and father was a hero. I witnessed it first hand on 9/11. When countless others were running away, he stood his ground and did his job. He would be the last person to say he was a hero, so I will be the first to say he was.

Many people love to talk about what they would do when the moment comes, but most times it is just 'talk.' On September 11th I saw his response. At some point the New York City Police Department will award his family the Distinguished Service Medal. My personal belief is that it should be awarded upon the diagnosis of a related illness, but the medal day ceremony would take days and would require a venue like Madison Square Garden to accommodate the thousands of NYPD heroes who are waging their personal fight with their illnesses. 

As for me, I salute you, Paul Murphy, my boss, my colleague and my friend. You epitomize the Department motto: Fidelis Ad Mortem (Faithful Unto Death) and I raise my glass in your honor and cry: Skol!

You might be gone, but I promise that you will never be forgotten. In fact, for those of you have ever read my Alex Taylor series of books, you will recognize Paul Murphy as a re-occurring member of the Penobscot Police Department..

To those who responded on 9/11, or in the ensuing days, please, please, please, get registered with the World Trade Center Health Monitoring Program. Sadly, the odds are not with us !!