LAPD Copter Team Mourned as Heroes

Gary Howe and Charles R. (Randy) Champe, veteran Los Angeles police officers who fought crime from the cockpit of a helicopter, were eulogized Thursday as heroes for keeping their aircraft from striking a day-care center and an elementary school as it plunged from the sky.

The two police officers were killed last week in the Southwest Los Angeles accident, apparently caused when the helicopter’s engine failed on a routine patrol. More than 2,000 law enforcement officers from throughout Southern California converged on the Hollywood Hills to honor them.

“To our fellow officers who have departed, we can never say thank you, but we can remember. And we will,” said Deputy Chief Mark A. Kroeker. “They walked their lives as true heroes. . . . Not because they swung some bat, or threw some ball or endorsed some product, but because they truly loved you.”

More than 30 helicopters saluted the fallen officers with a 10-minute flyover as part of the smoggy morning ceremony at Forest Lawn Memorial-Park cemetery. The memorial service opened with a bagpipe rendition of “Amazing Grace” and ended 90 minutes later with the somber blasts of “Taps” from a gleaming trumpet.

Howe, 41, and Champe, 46, both of whom had been buried Wednesday in private ceremonies, were remembered Thursday as brave and dedicated members of the department’s Air Support Division. But Kroeker--and later Police Chief Daryl F. Gates--expressed concern that the officers’ “ultimate sacrifice” has gone unappreciated because of widespread civic criticism of the Police Department after the March 3 beating of Rodney G. King.

“We should have loved them more for their having loved what they did,” Kroeker said in his eulogy. “I am afraid that our city is not grateful enough for them.”

In remarks to reporters after the service, a solemn Gates concurred.

“I am not sure the people really recognize the contributions that officers like these two make to the peace and safety and good order of this city,” said Gates, who was dressed in his formal blue uniform. “It makes all of these other issues pale into total insignificance.”

Police and military honor guards paid tribute to the two officers with a 21-gun salute, followed by the ceremonial folding of the American flags that had been draped over the caskets. Gates and Capt. Robert Woods, commanding officer of the Air Support Division, presented the flags to Lynette Howe and Sue Champe, the widows.

Howe, a 20-year police veteran and the pilot of the helicopter, was honored as a dedicated police officer and a devoted father and husband. In addition to his wife, Howe leaves three children, Stefani, 14, Robert, 10, and Brent, 8.

Chaplain Ron Moen, who worked with Howe in the 1970s when they were stationed in Hollywood, recalled pranks that the Cincinnati native played on fellow officers, but also pointed to his courage and professionalism.

“Gary faced the ultimate challenge with courage,” Moen said. “The ship was going down. The playground was there. But the kids. The kids. We can’t land there. The risk is too great. A decision was made. Courage and presence of mind gave Gary his only choice. He paid the ultimate price so that many others might be spared.”

Champe, a 17-year veteran and the helicopter’s observer, was remembered by two Marines who had served with him in Vietnam. Bill Peters described his decorated war buddy as a quiet man who over the years “opened like a flower.”

Col. Bob Hansen, dressed in a military uniform, looked to the sky in an emotional tribute to his friend. He told mourners that he, Champe and several other Marines in Vietnam had made a pact not to hold any more memorial services. They had seen enough death in Southeast Asia, he said.

“Randy, I am sorry, I didn’t hold up the bargain,” Hansen said, his voice cracking. “But we love you, and we respect you, and by God, today we’re here to honor you.”

In memory of the two officers, Police Department officials said the unit designation “Air 12,” which had been assigned to Howe and Champe, will no longer be used by the department.

“We will never again hear from Air 12,” Officer Frank Provenzano, a former partner of Champe, told mourners.

“Air 12, clear,” said Officer Bill Stough.

At the close of the ceremony, police escorted the Howe and Champe families to waiting limousines as a stream of law enforcement vehicles slowly made its way from the cemetery down a winding hillside road.

Members of the Air Support Division, meanwhile, stayed behind. About 75 officers, including some retired members of the division, lined up for a photograph on the pavement, where the honor guard had fired its 21-gun salute.

In the distance, the hum of a lone helicopter could be heard.