Pomona Officer, Wearing Vest, Is Fatally Shot

A Pomona police officer was killed Saturday in a darkened, isolated industrial complex, fatally shot in the chest despite the bulletproof vest he was wearing.

Discovered lying by his patrol car about 1:30 a.m., Daniel Fraembs, 37, became the first Pomona police officer shot to death in the line of duty in the city’s 108-year history.

For now, the sole witness appears to be a woman who may have seen two assailants run off into the darkness of a nearby rugged canyon along South Humane Way where the shooting occurred.

More than 150 Southern California law enforcement officers descended on this city of 140,000 Saturday, establishing roadblocks near the shooting scene and cordoning off a two-square-mile area as they trotted out scent-tracking canines and high-tech crime scene investigative tools.

Authorities remained uncertain whether there were multiple assailants, or how the killer or killers fled. But they proceeded on the assumption that the gunman may have gotten away on foot into dry, brush-laden hills nearby.

Pomona Police Department officers were alerted to the crime by the woman who saw the possible suspects. She told them she had been awakened by the crackle of gunfire. Officers soon found Fraembs with a gunshot wound in his upper body.

Fraembs, a former Orange County sheriff’s deputy, died at the scene. He was not married.

Homicide detectives set up a toll-free telephone number--(800) 511-0900--for tipsters.

Authorities either would not or could not say what Fraembs was doing at the industrial complex, or why his bulletproof vest had failed him.

“He had just gotten out of his car when he was shot,” said Deputy Angie Prewett, spokeswoman for the Los Angeles County Sheriff’s Department, the investigating agency.

That Fraembs was patrolling solo was not unusual; the Pomona Police Department has used single-officer patrol units since 1981, Prewett said.

By all accounts, Fraembs was humble, friendly, quiet--”salt of the earth,” in one resident’s words.

A native of Hong Kong, he had been with the Pomona Police Department for three years. Before that, he had spent nearly five years as a deputy with the Orange County Sheriff’s Department as a jailer beginning in 1989. He left for Pomona because he wanted an opportunity to work on the streets.

His former boss described Fraembs as “a very focused and dedicated” officer during his years at the Orange County Jail. Fraembs also served on a Sheriff’s Department martial-arts team that performed at charity events.

“All our hearts go out to his family,” said Sheriff’s Department Lt. Rich Paddock, the watch commander. “I’m getting some very somber phone calls from the men and women who knew him.”

Pomona, a suburban community 30 miles east of downtown Los Angeles, once thrived as the kind of place where people moved to escape such sadness. In the neighborhood bordering the shooting scene, a somber crowd gathered behind a line of yellow crime-scene tape.

Some seemed startled. Others shrugged, saying it was only a matter of time before the gunshots that kept them awake at night claimed a police officer’s life.

When someone held up a photograph of the deceased officer for TV cameras, some residents let out a knowing gasp. Their astonishment seemed to stem less from the nature of the crime than the fact that they knew the victim.

“He was very nice, very polite,” said lifelong Pomona resident Ken Steward, 34. “You could stop and talk to him any time. He would ride through the neighborhood and we would holler at him, ‘Hi, Officer Fraembs.’ ”

Steward was shaking his head, trying to absorb the shock, talking about Pomona’s world-weariness with crime and drugs and their collateral tragedies, when a motorist who had seen the gathering throng rolled down her window and asked, “What’s going on here?”

“A police officer was killed last night,” Steward said.

“Oh yeah,” she said matter-of-factly, showing no visible surprise.

“You see her reaction?” said Steward. “That’s sad, man.”

At police headquarters, tears flowed as the department’s 171 other officers and staff carried on.

Inside, a purple-and-white flower bouquet draped with a black ribbon inscribed “In memory of Daniel Fraembs” adorned the lobby.

Earlier, one policewoman at the scene of the killing was overheard screaming, “I hate this job!” a resident told police.

Neighbors who had heard the news streamed in and out of the station, donating pastries and expressing condolences.

Others had not yet heard. One woman and her young daughter had expected to visit a relative at the station when they were told that all visits had been postponed.

“How come?” the mother asked.

“Because of the death of our officer.”

“What happened, Mommy?” the young girl wanted to know. They hurried out the door, the mother clasping the young girl’s tiny hand.

Times staff writers Peter Y. Hong and Ken Ellingwood contributed to this story.