Advertisement

CHP Families Needing Help Can Call ‘11-99’

Share
Times Staff Writer

Bob Weinberg never knew Steven Tull.

But when Tull, a California Highway Patrol officer in Westminster, was killed in a traffic accident in 1983, that didn’t stop Weinberg from pitching in to help Tull’s family.

Weinberg, a Norwalk businessman and president of the 11-99 Foundation, gave $1,000 to help pay for emergency medical transportation of Tull’s wife, Judith, who suffered brain damage in the crash.

That gift to the Tull family was one of the first donations made by the 11-99 Foundation, a nonprofit organization Weinberg founded in 1982 to give financial assistance to families of CHP officers who are injured or killed. Weinberg, 59, who is president of Coast Grain Co., formed the group because, he said, there was no statewide organization of its kind.

Advertisement

The 11-99 Foundation borrows its name from CHP radio codes: in CHP parlance, 11-99 means “officer requires emergency help.” In the more than two years since the organization was formed, the 11-99 Foundation has helped a dozen families statewide, dispensing more than $80,000.

Weinberg, a portly man who revels in telling tales of CHP heroism, operates the foundation out of his company’s office, assisted by company vice president Ray Moline, who serves as foundation treasurer, and a secretary.

Despite the small staff size, the foundation has enlisted more than 300 members, who pay $200 a year in dues. Members, who all share an admiration for the CHP, range from Los Angeles Raiders Coach Tom Flores to actor Robert Pine, who starred in the “CHiPs” television show and acts as the fund-raising spokesman for 11-99. Most, however, are businessmen.

Weinberg started the organization because families can be confronted with crippling financial difficulties in the days immediately following a death, particularly a sudden death. Although officers’ widows receive hefty pensions (about $1,500 a month if the death is work-related and more if there are children), the money does not arrive for several weeks.

“Sometimes widows are faced with tremendous medical bills, or they find out that the joint bank account they had with their husband has been frozen,” Weinberg said. “This is where we come in. The purpose of our program is to help the families get back on their feet. It’s not designed as any sort of permanent pension plan.”

‘A Lot of Guts’

Why would Weinberg, who has no direct affiliation with the CHP, devote so much time to such a cause?

Advertisement

He is motivated, he said, purely by a desire to give something back to those who protect him and by what he calls his love for the CHP.

“Many years ago, I made friends with some CHP officers,” he said. “I came to like those guys. They do a heck of a job. It takes a lot of guts to pull over bad guys without any backup. I tell you, I wouldn’t have the courage to do it.

“I have liked law enforcement all my life. I’ve always been a believer in law and order and have always had a great respect for policemen. You can’t find a finer bunch of men.

“But,” Weinberg emphasized, “it’s not like these guys don’t give me speeding tickets. Believe me, I’ve had my share.” No one doubts his sincerity.

Moline said, “Bob is just one of those guys who has many friends in law enforcement. They give so much to the community, and he really likes that. So the foundation is something he’s giving back to the people who help us.”

Lookout for Mishaps

Both Weinberg and Moline keep a constant lookout for shootings or accidents involving CHP officers, depending on news broadcasts, newspaper accounts and their contacts within the CHP. “Somehow, word always finds a way to reach us,” Moline said.

Advertisement

Those who have been helped by 11-99 are quick to praise the organization.

Nearly two years ago, CHP pilot Bob Carey of Barstow was killed in a freak helicopter crash. Carey, 46, had been flying near the Harper Dry Lake area near Barstow while investigating a report--later found to be false--that a military helicopter with four people aboard had crashed. During the flight, investigators believe, Carey probably experienced vertigo and became unable to navigate the craft..

Within a week after the crash, the foundation had handed Carey’s widow a check for $2,000.

“If it hadn’t been for 11-99, I would have been forced to borrow money . . . or live without money for a week,” said Sharon Carey Shroeder, now remarried and living in Visalia, about 50 miles southeast of Fresno.

“What happens is that, within the first 24 hours, you realize you have no access to money,” she explained. “All you’ve got is what’s in your purse and what you can lay your hands on before they close your account.

“Even when something tragic like this happens, you still have to eat like everyone else. You have to keep on living.

Foundation Little Known

Yet despite 11-99’s efforts, Weinberg and his organization remain largely unknown to CHP officers.

“I didn’t even know about the organization,” Shroeder said. “I’m sure my husband had no idea what would happen to us if he died. You think things like that happen to other people. We weren’t prepared at all.”

Advertisement

Carmen Verdugo of Ontario, whose husband, David, died at 42 of cancer in September, 1983, said she did not learn of the foundation until a day or two after his death. “Someone from the foundation--I don’t know who--called and said they wanted to take a look at my bills,” she said. They wanted to know whether she needed money.

“I didn’t believe it at first, but I was very happy they were telling me this--that they were going to make things easier for me,” she said. “At the time I was in a bind financially, mainly because of the medical bills.”

Verdugo said the foundation assumed all of her debts--more than $7,000. “They took care of all the bills I had outstanding at the time,” she said. “Not only medical bills, but others such as Master Charge, May Co. and Sears.

“Without their help, it would have been very difficult,” said Verdugo, who has a daughter, Luana, 12. “I probably would have been forced to sell my home and move into a condominium. And I would have had to abandon all my plans, move into a smaller place, and get rid of a lot of furniture.”

Scholarship Fund

In addition to providing money to families of injured or killed CHP officers, the Foundation also has a college scholarship fund for children of slain officers.

Last October, Theresa Pence, 17, of Napa received a $1,500 scholarship from the foundation. She is the only scholarship recipient so far, but Weinberg said others will be named later.

Advertisement

Pence, who said she will probably study journalism at California State University, Sacramento, was 2 years old in April, 1970, when her father, James, was killed in a bloody shoot-out in Newhall. Three other CHP officers died in that incident, the worst such shoot-out in CHP history.

Pence got word of the scholarship fund from her uncle, a public relations officer for the CHP in Oakland. She applied one day last October, and the next day she received a phone call from Weinberg informing her of the award. Pence then later flew down to Los Angeles with her mother to receive the scholarship. Weinberg paid the airfare.

“He’s really nice,” Pence said of Weinberg. “He’s kind of a grandfatherly type. He made me feel very comfortable.”

The foundation also may set up a scholarship fund for dependents of any CHP officer, and for any high school student who states an intention to become a CHP officer.

But Moline admits fund-raising is a problem. “As of right now, not too many officers know we exist,” he said. “And we don’t go asking for funds or go into direct solicitation. We found that works contrary to our goals.”

Instead, he said, the foundation will continue to quietly collect funds as it has done for the past two years: through membership dues and proceeds from various celebrity golf and tennis tournaments.

Advertisement

“Our goal is to get $1 million. Right now, we have about $70,000 invested in banks and we’re collecting the interest. But we don’t have enough to take care of the officers and their families like we would like to,” he said. “But considering we’ve been in existence only two years, $70,000 isn’t bad.”

Advertisement