Advertisement

Slain Officer’s Widow Expresses Thanks

Share
TIMES STAFF WRITER

When she rose to speak, she had no words.

No words to express the cracking pain of her husband’s death.

No words to convey her gratitude to all who tried to soothe that hurt.

But mustering her strength, Sandra Navidad stepped out of her pain Friday to thank the community for supporting her family in the week since her husband, Los Angeles Police Officer Mario Navidad, was killed in a shootout with a suspected shoplifter. More than $45,000 in contributions have poured into a trust fund for the Navidad children, 4-year-old Brandon and 9-month-old Melissa. Donors have also dropped off toys, flowers and countless cards. And the gifts keep coming.

“There are no words to explain how I’m feeling. How thankful I am,” Sandra Navidad said.

She choked up then, had to sit down and clutch her children close. Brandon buried his face in his mother’s black dress. Melissa gurgled and waved her arms. Then Brandon, who wore Spider-Man superhero socks, reached over to hug his baby sister.

Mario Navidad was killed Sunday night on Fairfax Avenue, just 21 months after achieving his lifelong dream of joining the Police Department. He and his new partner, Ralph Mendoza, confronted a teenager suspected of stealing beer from a 7-Eleven. The officers did not even have time to get out of their car before the suspect grabbed a gun from his pocket and opened fire. Navidad was hit. Mendoza shot back and killed the teenager.

Advertisement

Funeral services for Navidad--whose name means “Christmas” in Spanish--are scheduled for Monday at 10 a.m. at the Church of St. Mark in Venice. Burial will be at Forest Lawn Memorial Park Hollywood Hills.

In the meantime, Navidad’s Wilshire Division colleagues have converted the entrance hall of their station into a shrine. Red and white carnations, ribboned baskets and candles painted with religious themes surround a photo of the 27-year-old officer in uniform. Sandra Navidad brought two photos to her halting news conference Friday: one of her and Mario on their wedding day, and one of their two children hugging.

“All Mario wanted to do,” she recalled, “was to be there for his children and to serve his community.”

Grateful for that service, dozens of citizens have dropped off gifts for the children, from a bike to a Tickle Me Elmo doll. Police Chief Willie L. Williams said one man recently walked into a station, handed over his business card and a check for $9,999.99, then slipped out the door, requesting anonymity. The response has been so swift and so strong that police officers still have not opened all the envelopes addressed to the trust fund at the Wilshire Division station, Williams said.

Clearly overwhelmed by such generosity, Mario Navidad’s parents choked back tears Friday as they expressed their heartfelt thanks. They also took the opportunity to let the city know they were proud of their son’s decision to join the LAPD after 10 years of working in a grocery market. A quiet man who loved to watch boxing matches, play softball and spend time with his children, Navidad by all accounts took great joy in pinning on a police badge and becoming an officer.

“I want to say that I am extremely proud of my son Mario,” Saul Navidad said in Spanish. “I am proud of his dedication in his whole life--in his schooling, in his work, in his house, as a father and as a son.”

Advertisement

Magdalena Navidad, his mother, recounted through her tears that she had been afraid that Mario would get hurt in his job as a police officer. “I told him I was scared, but he told me, ‘No mother, no. Nothing will ever happen to me,” she said, sobbing.

From her comments, it seemed clear that Sandra Navidad never believed such assurances.

She expressed no bitterness that her husband had been cut down so young. It was part of his job, a risk he accepted when he signed up for the Police Academy. His widow knew that Mario Navidad was not the first LAPD officer slain in the line of duty. She knew, sadly, he would not be the last.

“This is happening to us now,” she said. “But it could have happened to anyone.”

Advertisement