Officer May remembered as good cop, loving father

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Officer May remembered as good cop, loving father

By Kimra McPherson and Julia Prodis Sulek
Mercury News

Friends and colleagues this afternoon remembered East Palo Alto police officer Richard May as a fun-loving prankster who always had a smile on his face and who enjoyed nothing more than to receive a phone call from his daughters about what their day was like.

Hundreds of police officers in dress uniform attended a memorial service at the HP Pavilion in San Jose following a procession from the East Palo Alto police headquarters that stretched for miles.

May, 38, was allegedly shot and killed by a gang member Saturday afternoon after May stopped to investigate a report of a fight at a taqueria.

Born and raised in San Luis Obispo, May was married and had three daughters.

``I'm outraged to see this tragic waste of a good and decent man,'' said an emotional Attorney General Bill Lockyer, who at one point stopped his remarks to compose himself.

Hillsborough Police Chief Matthew O'Connor said May, a former Marine, had spent his professional life helping those in need.

``When one of those heroes is taken from us, as Richard brutally was, we all feel the loss,'' said O'Connor, president of the San Mateo County Police Chiefs and Sheriffs Association.

Other speakers recalled May's compassion, smile and friendliness.

Lt. Tom Alipio, his first commander when May joined the East Palo Alto Police Department 18 months ago, said he came across in an interview as someone you'd tell your problems to, rather than a job candidate.

Bill Cody, a police academy classmate, said May couldn't keep a straight face for his Marine photo.
Passing on a request from Richard May Sr., Cody urged mourners to find a young person to help as the younger May had often done.

``Help that person become a good and productive adult and do it with a smile,'' Cody said.

The memorial concluded outside the arena with three shots fired in salute to May and helicopters with a ``missing man'' formation flyover.

Hours before the memorial, hundreds of people, mostly school children, lined University Avenue in East Palo Alto this morning to watch a solemn procession of police officers on their way to the memorial.

Colleagues from as far away as Petaluma and Lompoc, where May worked before coming to East Palo Alto, joined the procession. Some wiped away tears as they passed by hand-drawn banners held by school children saying such things as, ``May you find peace. We will miss you and your smile.''

One parent, who accompanied Costano School children, said she hoped the message today would be clear -- ``Not to go
out and do anything like this, because it's horrible,'' Sedric Miller said.

May was allegedly shot multiple times Saturday by gang member Alberto Alvarez, 22, half a block from the funeral route. The officer was responding to a fight at a local taqueria near the police headquarters when he recognized a man police have identified as Alvarez.

Today's funeral procession included four stretch limos carrying May's family. Applause broke out when East Palo Alto
Police Chief Ron Davis drove by just behind the family.

It took 20 minutes for the full procession to pass under a huge U.S. flag, suspended over four-lane University Avenue by two cranes.

Two police officers armed with rifles stood with their backs to the procession, facing the dead-end of Sacramento Street where it intersects University Avenue. Alvarez is a member of the Sac Street gang and often hung out and was seen by neighbors selling drugs there. It is considered the most notorious street in East Palo Alto.

It took the procession of more than 200 police cars and motorcycles about 25 minutes to pass the entrance of the HP Pavilion. A troop of horse-mounted officers were positioned in front of the arena and a photo of May in his uniform was on the giant screens.

Mercury News staff writer Rodney Foo contributed to this report.

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Mother grieves for the officer who reached out to her son

By Patty Fisher
Mercury News

Not every mother would have a special fondness for the police officer who put her son in jail.

But not every police officer would have worked as hard as Richard May did to help a distraught mother get her son offdrugs and on the right road.

May was shot to death Saturday in East Palo Alto. When Lucille Strong heard the news, she was devastated.

``They said a policeman was killed, and I prayed it wasn't officer May,'' she said. ``If it hadn't been for officer May, my son might have been dead by now.''

May died on a lovely Saturday afternoon. He was responding to a fairly routine call -- a fight in a restaurant.

According to police accounts, one of the guys involved in the fight ran off, and May, a powerful, 38-year-old ex-Marine, chased him down. They scuffled. Both men fired their guns. May was shot at least once in the head.

On Tuesday, Alberto Alvarez, 23, whom prosecutors call a known gang member, was charged with murder.

Strong and her husband raised five children in East Palo Alto, a city that long has struggled with drugs, gangs and violence.

Her youngest son was a smart kid with lots of potential. But somehow Ken, who's now 41, never quite managed to realize that potential. Three years ago, after two family members got sick and died within nine months, ``he just kind of went crazy,'' his mother said, and the drugs took over.

When Lucille Strong first met May in 2004, she didn't know where to turn. Her son had been breaking into her house, stealing to pay for his cocaine habit. May, who'd recently joined the East Palo Alto force, listened to her story and promised to help.

``He told me that no mother should have to endure what I was going through,'' she said. ``He said the only way my son could kick drugs was if he went to jail and was sent to a treatment program. He was too far gone to do it on his own.''

May told her how to collect evidence in case there was another break-in. Then he went out and tracked down her son.

``He stopped me and gave me a long talking-to,'' Ken Strong recalled. ``He didn't arrest me, but he put the fear of God in me.''

Apparently, though, that long talking-to and the fear of God couldn't match the power of coke. Strong was arrested shortly afterward for burglarizing his mother's house again and went to jail. After a couple of false starts, he's back in jail waiting to be placed in a residential drug treatment program. This time, he says, he's determined to make it.

``I'm so happy to be away from the life I was in.''

May went to court with Ken's mother throughout the burglary case and stayed in touch with her afterward. She feels he gave her son back to her, and her heart aches for his family. She hopes the city does something to keep his memory alive.

``Maybe they should name a street after him,'' she said. ``For him to take that much interest in my family was really something special.''

From what I've learned about May in the past couple of days, the concern he showed for the Strong family wasn't really something special for him. He was a cop who cared, who wanted to make a difference.

May was an ambitious guy who left the relative calm of Lompoc to get experience fighting urban crime in East Palo Alto. In his 18 months here, he impressed many folks with his commitment, his eagerness to keep young people out of gangs. Everyone who encountered him seems to have a story about how May went out of his way to help people.

If every cop who dies in the line of duty is a hero, then perhaps Richard May was a superhero.

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Solemn farewell

Thousands say goodbye to slain E. Palo Alto police officer Richard May

By Rebekah Gordon, STAFF WRITER
Inside Bay Area

Unfaltering protectors of city streets, staring danger directly in the face, they often seem immortal.

But on Thursday, thousands of them were reminded just how frail and mortal they are.

Members of law enforcement began arriving at Spangler Mortuary on Live Oak Drive in Menlo Park at 8 a.m., when the sky was clear and the air a crisp 42 degrees.

Pleasant Hill, Salinas, Lompoc, Oakland, Fremont, Belmont, San Carlos, Daly City, West Sacramento, South San Francisco, their motorcycle emblems read.

They exchanged greetings with old friends, sipped coffee and embraced in hugs of solace and grief, their badges striped with black mourning bands.

"And this," said family friend Rob Holder, "is just the start."

They gathered to pay tribute to a fallen comrade, East Palo Alto police officer Richard Allen May Jr., shot and killed in the line of duty Saturday. This was not only the day for police officers, government officials, family and the public to mourn, but to bring hope for peace to a crime-plagued city — and for adeath not to have been in vain.

Inside the mortuary, about 60 people from May's family sat in front of his flag-draped casket. Holder read the 23rd Psalm as a clock quietly chimed nine.

As the casket was placed in the hearse in the mortuary's back parking lot, an East Palo Alto police officer's lip quivered as she began to cry.

And then, there was the rumble.

More than 100 police officers revved up their bikes, lights glistening in the morning sun, to lead off a motorcade to escort May's body to HP Pavilion in San Jose. Behind the hearse were five limousines with family members, additional family cars and the East Palo Alto Police Department.

The California Highway Patrol stopped traffic in all directions as the procession wound through Menlo Park, crossing Highway 101 at Marsh Road. They turned onto the Bayfront Expressway, lined with police cars ready to join the procession's tail end. In all, the motorcade would stretch four miles.

As the vehicles turned up University Avenue, hundreds of elementary school children and community members lined the street near the East Palo Alto Police Department, cheering for their fallen hero, or crying.

"Rest in peace, Officer May," a girl's hand-made sign read.

The procession followed Highway 101 southbound to Highway 87, empty and quiet as cars where held at on-ramps. Overpasses were lined with firetrucks and saluting firefighters. Construction workers at frontage buildings and at the Highway 85 interchange paused to watch.

The quiet reflection extended inside HP Pavilion. Every cough, sniffle and footstep echoed in the arena, as the navy dress uniforms of law enforcement officers blanketed the arena floor.

To bagpipes and drums, May's casket was wheeled in by his half-brother Mike Merrill, brother-in-law Brett McMillan, childhood friend Mike Nielsen, East Palo Alto police officer Shante Williams, Menlo Park police officer Jaime Romero and Lompoc police officer George Berrios.

As about 6,000 stood in salute, his family followed; a wife mourning her husband, three daughters mourning their father, a mother mourning her son.

The youngest daughter, 9-year-old Lauren, buried her head in her mother's bosom as they followed May's casket.

From the arena stage, East Palo Alto Mayor Ruben Abrica declared Jan. 12 a day of remembrance for May.

"On this day, and for generations to come, we will tell his story, mourn his death and celebrate his life," he said.

A police officer for 14 years in Lompoc and just 18 months in East Palo Alto, May spent his life helping those in need, especially atrisk children. He committed much of his time to the DARE program in Lompoc and founded the town's Police Activities League. In East Palo Alto, he helped with the Boy Scout Explorers and worked tirelessly to help a family whose son he had arrested for drug charges.

"To honor Rich, individually find one young person who needs help," said Bill Cody, who attended police academy at Allan Hancock College in Santa Maria with May. "Spend your time with that youth. Help that person become a good and productive adult. And do it with a smile."

May filed his life with joy and humor, and anecdotes abounded. He was known for his vast storehouse of '80s trivia, the shortshorts he wore that showed off his pale legs, his wily teenage antics and his love for the Canadian rock band Rush.

Recounting memories of cabinets never closed and elaborate sound systems installed to watch "Terminator 2," May's sister, Tami McMillan, said his daughter Lauren had been sleeping in her Rush T-shirt since Sunday.

But this memorial also displayed a police force, a family and a state visibly shaken.

"My sense of outrage is great. I'm outraged to see this tragic waste of a good and decent man," said state Attorney General Bill Lockyer as he fought back tears. "We know that we can take some comfort in understanding that he was doing what he loved."

Pallbearer Williams, May's partner, made light of the long commutes May made to his home in Santa Maria, where he will be accorded similar honors today and Saturday before cremation.

"As much as Rich loved to serve the city and community of East Palo Alto, there was one thing he loved more than anything, and that was going home to see his family," Williams said.

"We've all lost a hero today," he said, facing May's wife and daughters as he cried. "He was an example, role model and hero. He will be greatly missed, and he'll never be forgotten."

The air of legacy hung heavy in the darkened arena.

"I promise you this: Rich did not die in vain," said East Palo Alto Police Chief Ron Davis. "His sacrifice will serve as the catalyst of change that in the end will make the city of East Palo Alto the safest in the nation."

Final honors were paid to May befitting a police hero; a last dispatch for Badge 2138, calling for his end of watch, reverberated in the pavilion.

"Amazing Grace" and officer salutes saw his casket escorted out. In the afternoon sun, the thousands of officers who came to pay their respects lined Autumn Street in formation.

Slowly, a riderless horse with boots backward in the stirrups made its way down the street, May's casket following behind.

Six officers carefully folded the flag draping the casket 13 times, handing it to Davis, who presented it to May's widow, Diana. Folded flags were also presented to May's mother, Clarice Merrill, and May's father, Richard May Sr.

A 21-gun salute sounded in the distance, and helicopters in the "missing man" formation flew overhead. His family watched tearfully as the pallbearers placed May's casket in the hearse, Diana May comforting her three daughters with her flag tucked under her arm.

And much like he had come, Richard May was escorted away by officers on motorcycles down Santa Clara Street, thousands still in deference.

And then they broke ranks, embracing each other, unmistakably human.

Staff writer Malaika Fraley contributed to this story.

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Service Thursday for Orcutt's Officer May

By Quintin Cushner/Senior Staff Writer
Santa Maria Times

The decorated police officer and Orcutt resident shot to death Saturday while on patrol for the East Palo Alto Police Department will be honored Thursday during a noon memorial service at the H.P. Pavilion in San Jose.

Throngs of police officers, public officials, friends and family are expected at the event honoring Officer Richard May, the 38-year-old married father of three daughters who commuted to his job in the Bay Area city. Details of a Central Coast memorial service reportedly will be finalized today.

May's friends and family were reeling Monday from his death.

The officer's father, Richard May Sr., said his son had aspirations to be a police chief and wished to cut his teeth in gritty East Palo Alto when he took the job there 18 months ago. May stayed with his mother and stepfather while on-duty, then led a happy domestic life in Orcutt when off, his father said.

After graduating in 1985 from San Luis Obispo High School, May spent a transformative seven years in the U.S. Marine Corps Reserves. He served overseas in 1991 during Operation Desert Storm.

"In high school, he was a nice kid like everybody else," Richard May Sr. said of his son. "When he came out of the Marine Corps he was a proud, upstanding person."

May also thrived as an officer in the Lompoc Police Department. During his 15-year career in Lompoc, he distinguished himself for his work with juveniles, working as a D.A.R.E. officer and founding a police activities league, said Lompoc Police Sgt. Mike Collins. Officers at that department wore black bands across their badges Monday to recognize May.

"He was hardworking and liked to help the community," Collins said.

May in 1994 received the prestigious H. Thomas Guerry Award from the Santa Barbara Citizens Council on Crime for his role in saving the life of a victim suffering from cardiac arrest. In 1997 he was honored with the Distinguished Service Award from the Santa Barbara County Probation Department for his work with juveniles.

But the officer was at his best when spending time with his three daughters, ages 9, 13 and 17, Richard May Sr. said.

"That's how I remember him," the man said. "Smiling with his kids." That sentiment was echoed by neighbor and friend Marcy Simms, who remembers May playing soccer or throwing catch with his daughters. He also helped coach his youngest daughter's soccer and softball teams.

"He was just a great family guy who loved his kids so much," Simms said. "He loved being a police officer and he died doing what he loved. He's a hero in anyone's book."

May was shot about 5 p.m. Saturday after responding to a disturbance at the Villa Taqueria off University Avenue in Palo Alto, police said.

The officer approached 23-year-old known gang member Alberto Alvarez, who was walking away from the business. Alvarez turned around and opened fire on May, then tried to scale a fence and escape, police said. When he could not climb the fence, Alvarez returned to May and fatally shot him, according to police.

Alvarez was arrested Sunday on suspicion of killing May. He is being held without bail in San Mateo County Jail in Redwood City.

May leaves behind his wife Diana May and daughters Lauren, 9; Deanna, 13; and stepdaughter Brittany, 17. Other survivors include his father, Richard May Sr. and stepmother Lynn May of San Luis Obispo; mother Clarice Merrill and stepfather Frank Merrill of Atherton; sister Tami McMillan and four half-siblings.

Friends of the family are hosting a benefit barbecue from 11 a.m. to 5 p.m. Sunday in the parking lot of Long's drug store, at 4852 South Bradley Road in Orcutt.

Separate memorial services in Santa Maria are set for this week and may be finalized today, Collins said.