Hero’s Unwelcome : Gas Station Bans Homeless Man Who Pulled Officer From Car

A heroic act that turned a homeless man into an overnight hero has cost him his livelihood.

Less than three days after Mark Burdick pulled an injured Los Angeles police officer from his burning patrol car, the 42-year-old transient has been banned from returning to the Reseda gas station where he washed windshields for spare change.

The owners of the station say they reacted to the news reports that Burdick used the station’s fire extinguisher to douse the flames and then helped pull LAPD officer Martin Guerrero from his blazing police cruiser. The patrol car crashed after it was broadsided by an Acura that police estimate had been traveling about 100 m.p.h.

Burdick also helped pull Tammy Danford of Canoga Park from the Acura and tried to rescue Guerrero’s partner, Officer Gabriel Perez-Negron, from the police car. Both Danford and Perez-Negron died at the scene.

Police officers at the crash site called Burdick a hero and offered to nominate him for a city award. When the homeless man refused, one pressed a $20 bill into his hand.

On Monday evening, however, as Burdick set up his cleaning equipment at the pump islands at the Mobil gas station at Sherman Way and White Oak Avenue, the former Marine and Vietnam veteran was told by the manager he would have to vacate the premises for good.

The gas station owners say they had no idea Burdick washed windows at the business. And--hero or no hero--they say they simply cannot allow loiterers.

“It’s unfortunate that his being a hero made us aware of the situation, but no matter how we became aware, he would have to leave,” said Allen Gimenez, a vice president of Winall Oil, which owns the station.

“I mean, I think the guy’s a hero, too. But that doesn’t matter. He’s loitering, trespassing. It’s against the law and it’s a serious problem because we get complaints from drivers. Most importantly, it’s against our principles in taking care of our customers.”

Burdick, who on Tuesday visited Officer Guerrero at his bedside at Northridge Hospital Medical Center, took the banishment in stride.

“Hey, this is their property. It’s their business,” Burdick said of the decision. “They don’t want freeloaders here.

“I guess that’s the way the world goes. Sometimes it’s not fair.”

But Burdick’s regular customers aren’t taking the news as calmly.

Bob Danford--no relation to the Acura driver--is one of several dozen local residents who have paid Burdick for washing their windshields since the transient set up shop at the station three years ago. He was outraged at the news. “So this is what being a hero gets you in this country today,” he said.

“That’s just great. This is a guy who is not a panhandler, not any bum. He’s just somebody with a good heart who has fallen between the cracks. If Mark wasn’t at the station, that officer could have died. The place could have blown up. And now those clowns are kicking him off the property, taking away the only livelihood he has. Let this be a lesson to anyone else who wants to be a hero.”

Carla Sandoval, who said she regularly contributes supplies such as towels to keep Burdick’s cleaning efforts going, said it more succinctly: “This stinks.”

Burdick, a sandy-haired former high-rise construction iron-worker who has lived on the street for a decade, is by now used to such cruel turns of fate: Drinking and drugs ruined his former life, he says. He lost the tip of his right index finger in an industrial accident.

The oldest of four children from Reseda, he has made ends meet for several years by doing odd jobs such as painting and cleanup work.

“Mark will do anything for work, but it’s hard when you’re homeless,” said a friend, who identified herself as Anna. “What do you put on the application? That you don’t have an address or a phone because you live on the street? Right, that’ll get you hired in no time.”

As a result, the bulk of Burdick’s livelihood came from washing windshields, for which he sometimes earned $50 a night. Now, even that’s gone.

“This is going to cripple me financially,” he said as he walked to his makeshift home behind a trash dumpster not far from the station. “Washing windows was a good hustle.”

Ken Comstock, Burdick’s stepfather, said he had hoped the notoriety from the rescue effort would play in Mark’s favor. “This was his chance to get a leg up,” he said. “His mother and I told him, ‘Mark, this is your shot. Someone may help you.’ And now they do this. It’s sick, is what it is.”

Since the accident, Burdick’s usually quiet life hasn’t been the same: He has been awakened as early as 6 a.m. by well-wishers and reporters wanting his story. Some people have given him cash, others some used clothes.

On Tuesday, Deborah Martinez, who said she does volunteer work at the LAPD’s West Valley station, stopped by the corner to check on a candle she had lighted there in memory of Perez-Negron. Also at the corner where the officer died, well-wishers have left flowers, a tiny American flag and signs, including one that reads: “God Bless the Police.”

“Think about it,” she said, pressing $3 into Burdick’s hand. “This guy saved somebody. He took a chance. And all he gets is $20, a handshake from the police and then a kick in the pants from the business community.”

On Tuesday morning, Burdick’s mother, Ruth Burdick-Comstock, drove him to Northridge Hospital Medical Center to visit Guerrero. “I just told him that I was glad to see him alive,” Burdick said.

Burdick said Guerrero, a police officer for seven years, asked him several questions about the accident. “All he remembers are the very last seconds before the car hit,” Burdick said. “That’s all.”

Burdick-Comstock described a 10-minute visit in which Guerrero’s fiancee--a fellow LAPD officer who was among the first to arrive at the accident scene--described Mark’s quick actions. “She said he was running around the station, yelling at people, taking charge of the situation,” the mother recalled.

Burdick said little, shyly staying in the background. “Mark told Officer Guerrero that ‘when I saw you in that car, I didn’t know how I was gonna get you out,’ ” his mother said.

Burdick-Comstock, who worries about her son’s loss of self-esteem after so many years on the street, said he finally got a boost Tuesday morning in that hospital room.

“The fiancee walked over and just hugged Mark,” she said. “Then Officer Guerrero embraced him. It was wonderful. I was so proud of my son at that moment. And you know, I think he was proud of himself too.

“It’s been such a long time coming.”