Slain L.A. Deputy Is Laid to Rest

Jerry Ortiz was the kind of deputy whose flashy grin could make even the suspects he was booking smile.

It was his good humor and love of family that fellow deputies remembered as Ortiz, killed while searching for a suspect one week ago today, was eulogized on a misty Thursday morning at the Cathedral of Our Lady of the Angels in Los Angeles.

It was the largest funeral to date at the nearly 3-year-old cathedral, with 4,000 people inside and an additional 2,000 listening to speakers outside, cathedral spokeswoman Carolina Guevara said. The motorcade escorting Ortiz’s body from the cathedral to an East Los Angeles cemetery was so large, with more than 2,000 vehicles, that it took more than 90 minutes for the motorcade to make the five-mile trip.

Ortiz, 35, a 15-year Los Angeles County sheriff’s deputy, was shot in the head June 24 at a Hawaiian Gardens apartment complex while searching for a suspect wanted on suspicion of attempted murder. Jose Luis Orozco, 27, a known gang member and the man whom Ortiz was looking for, was arrested hours after the shooting and is the main suspect in the deputy’s killing.

“We knew he went out and tried to change people’s lives,” said Msgr. James J. Loughnane, a pastor at St. Denis Catholic Church in Diamond Bar, where Ortiz was an usher for the 10:30 a.m. Mass on Sundays.

“He also had a passion for the community and its people,” he said. “And in the end, it cost him his life.”

Outgoing Mayor James K. Hahn, incoming Mayor Antonio Villaraigosa, Los Angeles County Sheriff Lee Baca and Los Angeles Police Chief William J. Bratton joined thousands of other law enforcement officers from throughout California for the two-hour service celebrated by Cardinal Roger M. Mahony.

Colleagues and friends remembered Ortiz as a popular deputy and the pride of the sheriff’s boxing team, an avid motorcyclist and a doting father who often bragged about his sons, Jeremy, 16, and Jacob Ryan, 6, and was looking forward to life with his new wife of just three weeks, Chela.

Ortiz, born Luis Gerardo Ortiz, had a way about him that put colleagues and even suspects at ease, often calling everyone “bro,” said his former partner, Deputy Mike Fujino.

“He was confident without being arrogant,” said Det. Michael Martinez, who helped train Ortiz in 1995. “You always seemed to feel good when you walked away from him.”

Colleagues said Ortiz was a deeply caring friend, inviting co-workers to his sons’ birthday parties. On charity motorcycle rides, Ortiz -- riding his Harley-Davidson Softail -- would remind the motorcade’s leaders to slow down for less experienced riders. When boxing, they said, Ortiz would often lose the first two rounds because, at least initially, he didn’t want to hurt his opponent.

“It was like he was such a nice guy, he wouldn’t want to give it his all yet,” said Det. Ron Hernandez. “But his true ability would come out in the later rounds.”

At the service, Malena Castano, Chela Ortiz’s sister, spoke about how she had asked Chela if she would have chosen to fall in love with Jerry again, knowing the tragedy that would await him.

“Without hesitation, she said absolutely she would not trade her deep love with Jerry for anything else in the world,” said Castano, her voice breaking.

In a letter to Ortiz that was printed in the funeral program, Chela Ortiz, Jeremy and Jacob called Ortiz their hero and wrote that they took comfort that he was in heaven.

“You are my heart, my love, my best friend. Your sudden departure has left an absolute void in my soul,” Chela Ortiz wrote.

Jeremy promised his father that he would make him proud. “I will be there for Jacob to help him become a great young man,” the 16-year-old wrote about his 6-year-old brother. “Thank you for teaching me about sports, even though you were more of a USC fan than a Notre Dame fan.”

As a sea of family and law enforcement officers watched silently, six sheriff’s deputies escorted the coffin to the burial site at Calvary Cemetery.

A guard folded the U.S. flag draped over the coffin. Sheriff Baca solemnly walked to Ortiz’s widow, knelt in front of her and handed her the flag. As bagpipes played “Amazing Grace,” she clutched the flag and wept.

Outside the cemetery, Baca told reporters that people need to take responsibility for gang members in their families and implored them to call authorities if they need help.

“The real memorial for Jerry Ortiz is [finding] a real solution to the gang problem,” he said.