San Clemente Dedicates New Park to Slain Patrolman

Dispatcher Pat Petri had just asked a young patrolman to investigate a medical emergency when she got the call that still haunts her--and San Clemente’s police force--nearly 11 years later:

“Officer down.”

Richard T. Steed, 30, an amiable young officer who had been on the job for nearly three years, had responded to the report that a man was injured. And in an alley near the downtown business district, he got out of his car and was shot, twice.

An hour later, at San Clemente General Hospital, he was pronounced dead, becoming the first--and still only--San Clemente police officer to die in the line of duty.

Petri, now a community services officer, remembered Steed on Sunday as she, his fellow officers, members of his family and some 100 spectators joined San Clemente officials in dedicating a new city park in his name.

Carved out of the brown hills east of downtown San Clemente, the 40-acre facility is to be called the Richard T. Steed Memorial Park and World Class Softball Complex. So far it has four grassy ball diamonds, but more play areas are planned, according to South Coast Sports Enterprise, which developed the park jointly with the city.

At the entrance to the complex is a bronze plaque explaining that Steed was killed while on duty on Nov. 29, 1978. “Blessed are the peacemakers,” it says.

Police arrested a suspect in Steed’s death, 23-year-old transient James Richard Hoffer, who was suffering an apparently self-inflicted stab wound. Hoffer was charged with murder, but in 1981 he was found not guilty by reason of insanity and was committed to Atascadero State Hospital.

Sunday’s ceremonies were marked by a rifle salute and dozens of red, white and blue balloons, as well as speeches that mixed joy over the opening of the park with brief, sometimes sorrow-tinged remembrances of Steed.

“Even though Rick was the first peace officer to die in the history of San Clemente, let’s pray he’s the last,” said the slain officer’s father, Henry C. Steed, a retired engineer from Whispering Pines, Va.

Still, the senior Steed was delighted over the testimonial to his son.

“He would have loved this,” Steed said. “He loved ball. He liked to play baseball” and even hurried through his wedding so he could get to a game.

Kathleen Steed, the officer’s widow, called the dedication “wonderful. He would have wanted to be the first one to hit a ball,” she said. Later, she strode out to the pitcher’s mound and formally opened the park with a ceremonial first pitch.

Again and again, dedication speakers said they believe Steed would have wanted an upbeat affair--not a solemn one.

“We didn’t want this to be a somber affair in terms of testimonials and tears that were many years ago,” explained Gary E. Brown, who was police chief when Steed was killed and who is now deputy city manager of Visalia. But, he said, “by doing this you are showing that you do care, that you do remember.”

For police officers like the current chief of police, Albert C. Ehlow, Sunday’s ceremonies were “a dream come true.” Soon after Steed’s death, officers started a campaign to name a park after him, Ehlow said. There were several proposals, including one attempt by the council to name a rose garden after Steed--which police officers considered inappropriate. But until now, “it just didn’t happen,” Ehlow said.

Like dispatcher Petri, Ehlow said he still recalls the night Steed was killed. Then working as station commander, he got a call at home that one of his officers had been hurt.

Ehlow said he sped to the hospital, where “I found out it was Rick.” One bullet had grazed Steed’s arm, and the other had hit his upper left chest, apparently “through his (bulletproof) vest.”

Later, Ehlow said, a Los Angeles police officer who specialized in police shootings studied how the bullet could have bypassed Steed’s vest.

“He theorized that Rick saw the gun at the last moment. He drew.” But as he did so, Steed apparently “dipped his shoulder” and leaned forward, and the bullet went inside the top of the vest, entering his left side, the police chief said.

Ehlow called Steed a good officer who didn’t have much of a chance again the man who shot him. His luck as a cop was up, Ehlow said. “It was his time.”

Lt. Bill Trudeau, who in 1978 was the first officer to respond to Steed’s shooting, agreed. But he also said, “I use this (incident) to tell the guys about safety”--that even when they’re responding to a medical aid call, they should be cautious.

Trudeau said he tells officers: “Remember, you walk out that back door, you might not come back.”