Thousands Remember Deputy

In a stark reminder of the dangers of police work, more than 4,000 law enforcement officers turned out Wednesday to pay homage to a Los Angeles County sheriff’s deputy who was gunned down last week in South Gate while trying to pull over a cyclist.

Michael Hoenig--who was shot just above his bulletproof vest early last Thursday--was remembered at funeral services in Diamond Bar as a kind, quiet man who enjoyed his job and the public he served.

“He died doing his job, trying to make the mean streets of our community a little safer,” said Sheriff Sherman Block, who noted that Hoenig carried a bag of stuffed animals in his squad car to comfort children involved in traffic accidents.

“The Los Angeles County Sheriff’s Department has lost a member of our family, who has died a hero,” Block continued. “Mike, your law enforcement family will miss you, and you will always be remembered.”

Although Hoenig, 32, was a dedicated member of the department, friends said his life’s ambition was to be a firefighter.

“When he had the time and was not working or fishing, he would test to get on at fire departments,” family friend Gerald Poarch told those gathered at Calvary Chapel. “Many people have asked me why I thought Mike wanted to be a firefighter.

“I told them it wasn’t the salary or the benefits offered, but it was the immediate reward that one gets from helping someone in need. This is the kind of person Mike was.”

The Huntington Beach resident was shot by a bicyclist he had tried to pull over for questioning. Investigators said the assailant fired numerous rounds, fatally striking Hoenig in the neck. The deputy died minutes later.

Enrique Parra Duenas, 25, was arrested near the crime scene--on Seminole Avenue--about 45 minutes after the shooting. He had been hiding in a crawl space between a concrete wall and a house, and was tracked down by a police dog, authorities said. Investigators found a .45-caliber semiautomatic pistol nearby.

If convicted of murder with a special allegation of using a gun in the commission of a crime, Duenas could be sentenced to death.

Hoenig, a 10-year veteran assigned to the sheriff’s Century Station, was on patrol alone and apparently had decided to stop the cyclist because he was flailing his arms and acting erratically. The deputy had been on patrol in adjacent Lynwood, then followed the suspect a few blocks into South Gate.

“It seems that some of society’s attitudes regarding law enforcement have changed,” Deputy Tressa Gunnells, who once worked as Hoenig’s partner, told funeral-goers. “Gone are the days when society looked upon us with respect and trusted us. Today, it seems, those attitudes have been replaced with disrespect and hatred, and sometimes even acts of violence, which led to this.”

Hoenig is survived by his parents, two brothers and a sister. Speaking to the crowd, Robert Hoenig said he was proud of his son.

“I never realized how many lives my son personally touched,” the father said.

Hoenig’s mother, Mary, read several letters she received from local schoolchildren. One of the letters depicted an angel with large golden wings and a mustache, like the one her son wore. “I said, ‘[The student] has got my son down,’ ” Mary Hoenig said, prompting smiles from the audience.

After the funeral, more than 2,500 police officers and sheriff’s deputies from across Southern California attended a formal ceremony at Forest Lawn Memorial-Park in Covina.

The ceremony was brief and simple. A lone bagpipe played, its plaintive wail piercing the heavy silence otherwise broken only by quiet sobs.

A rifle detail followed, then a rendition of taps. Three police helicopters flew by in formation, sirens wailing.

Eight deputies approached the casket, picked up the American flag draped over it and folded it methodically before handing it to Block. The sheriff then presented the flag to Hoenig’s parents.

Many people who worked with Hoenig clutched red roses and, at the end of the ceremony, placed them in front of a large portrait of the deputy.

Hoenig’s family then retreated for a private graveside ceremony.

As the crowds dispersed, officers hugged and comforted each other, and some wiped away tears.

Sheriff’s Deputy Dino Skokos, who worked with Hoenig, remembered him as a pleasant, easygoing guy who always had something nice to say.

“He worked nights, so he was always getting off just as I was coming in to work. He always made the time to come over for a few minutes and joke, share a few laughs,” Skokos said.

He said deputies at the Century Station were experiencing many different emotions.

“There’s sadness, there’s a lot of grief, and also relief” that they caught a suspect, Skokos said. “But we’re definitely going to miss Michael for a long time.”

Said another deputy, who asked not to be identified: “All of us are sitting there wondering if this could happen to us, yet we’re still going to go out there tonight to do our jobs.”