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Officers' shooting changed a community
MISHAWAKA REMEMBERS — THE HEALING CONTINUES
By ADAM JACKSON
Tribune Staff Writer
Kevin Burnett, of South Bend,
wrestled with the "stupidity" of the shooting deaths of two Mishawaka police
officers as he stopped last December at a small memorial at Broadway and
Sarah Street in Mishawaka. Burnett, a 1970 Marian High School graduate, said
he knew Cpl. Thomas Roberts, often playing basketball in pickup games while
they were growing up in Mishawaka.
Tribune File Photo/JIM RIDER
Tribune File Photo/MARK SHEPHARD
Tribune File Photos/JIM RIDER
A time to rememberWhat: Memorial service for Cpl. Tom Roberts and Patrolman Bryan
Verkler
|
MISHAWAKA -- Sometimes, little things can change everything.
A 9 mm handgun, a cheap necklace and a 30-year-old troublemaker. Individually, they might seem insignificant. But on the chilly, dark morning of Dec. 13, 2003, those ingredients came together in a recipe that would profoundly change a city -- and etch the names of two men on the rolls of history's heroes.
It has been a year now since Mishawaka police officers Cpl. Tom Roberts, 43, and Patrolman Bryan Verkler, 27, were fatally wounded in an attempt to arrest an armed robbery suspect in the front doorway of a Sarah Street home.
But while time may scab over the wound that the killings opened in the usually peaceful city, the tragedy's scar -- and the memories of the men who gave their lives in the line of duty -- still deeply affect many in the city, from the men and women who worked alongside Verkler and Roberts to the elected officials who swore them in.
It's a memory that likely will never go away.
"It was tough, and the anniversary is going to bring that back for a lot of people," said Robert C. Beutter, who was wrapping up a 20-year stint as mayor of Mishawaka when the shootings occurred. "I don't think Mishawaka will ever be quite the same."
Shots fired
The incidents leading up to the shooting seem almost routine -- just another squabble between two men late at night, like so many calls that police respond to on a daily basis.
But what made that call different was Raymond Gilkeson, a 30-year-old local resident with a penchant for conflict. In the wake of Verkler's and Robert's deaths, people in the suspect's history came forward to shed light on the past of a man described by many as a bully, who had a long rap sheet liberally sprinkled with assault charges.
And on the morning he killed two of Mishawaka's finest, he was keeping with his bully tradition. Gilkeson had been at a Battell Street home, where witnesses reported that he became interested in a gold necklace worn by an 18-year-old man at the home.
When the teen removed the jewelry -- a $39.99 mall purchase -- Gilkeson reportedly took it from him and put it on. When the teen asked him to give the jewelry back, he replied that he would not be giving it back and showed a handgun he had been concealing.
Witnesses said the owner of the necklace then asked Gilkeson if he could see the gun. Instead of handing it over, however, he decided to demonstrate the weapon by firing it into the air.
That action prompted a call to police, while Gilkeson hopped into a car and headed for the Sarah Street address. A neighbor reported the gunman's whereabouts to police arriving on Battell Street, and several officers went to the address to confront the suspect.
Gilkeson was at the address and in contact with the officer, but he was not positively identified as the necklace thief. It was only when the rightful owner of the jewelry identified him from the back of a nearby police car that Verkler and Roberts tried to grab Gilkeson on the front stoop of the home.
That was when Gilkeson drew his gun and fired. Verkler was hit first, the bullet entering his chest above his protective vest and puncturing his left lung. He managed to run from the porch to shelter behind a nearby garage before collapsing.
Roberts, shot in the head, died on the front porch of the home.
Other officers came to the rescue of their fallen comrades. As the dreaded cry of "officer down" rang out, Sgt. Michael Cleveland shot Gilkeson four times before the killer ran into the home. Shortly after that, Gilkeson denied the city a chance at justice by putting the gun to his head and taking his own life.
Verkler, rushed to Saint Joseph Regional Medical Center in South Bend, was still fighting for his life. Although doctors worked frantically to save him, he lost that battle on the operating table.
'Punched in the gut'
All that was left for the city Verkler and Roberts had given their lives to protect was tears, frustration and an awful mix of loss, guilt and utter shock.
"We all felt a feeling of guilt," said Beutter, who had sworn both men in to their jobs as Mishawaka police officers. "They were out there trying to protect us, so you just feel this responsibility and a sense of disbelief that this can happen here."
Mishawaka Mayor Jeff Rea echoed that sentiment, noting that hearing the news of the fateful event was horrifying.
"It was like being punched in the gut," he said.
At the department, the feeling was even worse. Officers such as Matthew Weber, who was chief of police at the time, as well as former uniform division chief Glenn Hixenbaugh and investigative division chief Mike Samp, were faced with the task of helping the department recover from the loss while simultaneously coping with it and continuing to protect and serve the public.
A tough job, to be sure. But they and others close to the tragedy did not face it alone. Even before Verkler and Roberts were laid to rest, support poured in to the Princess City from as far away as Great Britain, as the loss of the officers sparked the compassion of thousands.
"There was so much support from the community ... it was amazing," Rea said. "I think this touched everybody in a way."
Paying tribute
In the beginning, mourners stacked flowers on a police car parked in front of the station, lining up in frigid weather to pay their respects. Mourners brought food for police officers on duty, and the Indiana FOP Critical Response Team, headed by Commander Danny Overly, was on the scene within hours to help ease the department through the nightmare.
Mishawaka Police Chief Ken Witkowski, who was serving as the leader of the department Neighborhood Enforcement Team at the time of the shootings, said the latter proved to be a godsend for the grieving officers.
The Critical Response Team has "a game plan for this from day one," he said. "You don't even know where to start, and they just move in and help everybody through the grieving process."
From those dark first days, the love continued to snowball. Support poured in for the families of the slain officers, including Verkler's wife, Juli, and Roberts' fiancée, Deb McGinnis. Flags across town hovered at half-staff, and businesses had fund-raisers to raise money for the families.
It was an effect Beutter said may have been spurred by the tough lesson the shootings taught the city.
"We had got to thinking that things like this don't happen in Mishawaka," he said. "This brought the community together, but what a high price to pay for community unity."
One year later
The months have gone by, and lives have moved on in the wake of the shootings. Yet, in the back of the minds of those who know Roberts and Verkler, their memories live on. And to ensure they are never forgotten, officials plan to have a special memorial service at 7:30 p.m. Monday at the police station, 200 N. Church St.
Jerry Schroder, services division chief for the department, said the service is not only a memorial for the fallen officers but also a celebration of their lives and their legacy to the community.
"We want this to be a positive event," he said.
Anyone is welcome to attend, and when those who attend leave, the hope is that they will take home some understanding of what the city's police officers do when they drive the streets every day, working to keep Mishawaka safe.
And, just maybe, they can say a prayer that the city's finest will never again have to shout the dreaded words -- "officer down."
"There's not a day that goes by when this isn't on everybody's mind," Witkowski said. "I don't think you can ever plan for something like this. ... We just hope we never have to face it again."
December 13, 2004
Place of scarsOfficers' deaths shook quiet neighborhood
MISHAWAKA -- Gunshots startled 16-year-old Brant Barkdull in the early morning of Dec. 13, 2003. The teenager frantically woke his parents, who assured him the sounds couldn't be gunfire, not in their neighborhood. But as the family peered out the window, they saw two police officers carrying a lifeless body to the curb in front of their home. The Barkdulls watched their quiet neighborhood become a chaotic sea of yellow crime tape. Bloodstains marked the spots where Mishawaka police officers Cpl. Thomas Roberts and Patrolman Bryan S. Verkler were fatally shot at 1012 Sarah St. that morning. The perpetrator, 30-year-old Raymond Matthew Gilkeson, then turned the gun on himself. Now, a year later, the Barkdulls, whose home sits at Broadway and Sarah Street, said that despite the slayings the neighborhood is the same quiet, safe community it always was. "I was horrified (when it happened)," neighbor Sue Barkdull said. "I was definitely stunned. It's so sad when something like this happens. ... (But) I don't think the neighborhood has changed." Since the shootings, some neighbors have moved on without looking back, while others still cringe at the shadows and awake from haunting dreams night after night. Neighbor Patricia Grams was home the morning of the killings and recalls hearing gunshots. "We don't really get nervous," Grams said. "You know, he's (Gilkeson) gone and he shot himself." But Grams, who shares a home with two adults and three children younger than age 12, has found that the tragic incident has left scars on the children in the home. "It's hard for the kids," she said. "We try not to talk about it around them. (The oldest) of the three little boys still wakes up crying because he thinks he hears shots."
Grams has noticed a lot of change with people moving in and out of the neighborhood since the slayings. But violence, she said, could be anywhere, and her neighborhood shouldn't be labeled. "People say, 'Don't live here because it's plagued,' but it didn't start here. It started down there on Battell Street." Julie Garcia and her three children were one of the new families that moved into the neighborhood directly after the shootings. Their house at 1012 Sarah Street may be remembered to some as the scene of last year's grisly crime, but to them, it's home. "When I came to look at the house, I had no idea," Garcia said. "It was a bit weird. It was two weeks before I spent the night here." Garcia asked about the murders when she signed the lease, and the landlord confirmed that it was the home. "If I had known, I'd probably either not moved in or negotiated the rent," she said. After moving in, Garcia questioned the safety of the area. "When I found out, I thought to myself, 'Oh, crap, this is a bad neighborhood. I'm just gonna stay inside and keep to myself.' " Neighbors in nearby areas seemed to have the same idea. Sascha Benson, who lives two doors down from the crime scene with her sister and mother, said that at Halloween a lot of parents wouldn't let their children trick-or-treat down the street. Although those in surrounding areas may think poorly of the neighborhood because of the killings, Benson said the shootings haven't changed her mind about living there. "A lot of people stayed inside, (and) they didn't want to come out (after the shootings occurred), but it's not an issue for me." For Garcia, the only evidence that may speak of last year's deaths is a patch of mismatched carpet near her front door and a small hole in the baseboard of her kitchen. "It's pretty normal (here)," she said. "I don't think about it no more." But Hilda Brown is always reminded of the shootings. A memorial for the two officers hangs in the back of her garage in the alley where Verkler died. However, Brown, a widow, said residents look out for each other more now. After the slayings, the neighborhood implemented a stricter neighborhood watch program. Barkdull, captain of the neighborhood watch, said, "This isn't a bad neighborhood," she said. "This is a safe neighborhood, but it could happen in any neighborhood." |
December 14, 2004
Forever 'heroes to all'Ceremony honors officers killed in line of duty a
year ago.
MISHAWAKA -- A police officer brushed away a dusting of snow from the tops of two small stone monuments with his bare hands. A woman paused to set a toppled poinsettia upright again. A group of firefighters edged closer to the podium, straining to hear the voices of children singing "Silent Night" over the blasts of biting wind and the rumbling idle of their trucks. They joined others in a huddled crowd Monday night outside the Mishawaka police station for a memorial service honoring the lives and the sacrifice of fallen officers Cpl. Thomas Roberts and Patrolman Bryan Verkler on the one-year anniversary of their deaths. The two officers were fatally wounded Dec. 13, 2003, in an attempt to arrest an armed robbery suspect in front of a house on Sarah Street. "They are heroes not only for how they died, but how they lived," Mishawaka Police Chief Ken Witkowski said. The year since the officers died has been a painful one for all who knew them, he said, but especially for their family members, where their absence stings the most. "We have to remember that these men were not just police officers, but friends, family members, husbands and soul mates," Witkowski said. The chief commended all of the other police officers in attendance for their commitment to community, noting that all of them risk their lives every day.
"You have hearts bigger than most hiding behind those badges," he told them. Mishawaka Mayor Jeff Rea said residents continue to wrestle with the officers' deaths and struggle to understand why the violent confrontation -- in which Raymond Gilkeson open fired on the officers and then turned the gun on himself -- happened in their city. "Words are inadequate to express our sympathy," Rea said. Ashley McGinnis, daughter of Roberts' fiancée, Deb McGinnis, was pleased to see so many people stand in the cold to honor the man who was like a father to her. "They risked their lives for us," Ashley McGinnis said. "It is hard to come to terms with still." The deaths of Roberts, 43, and Verkler, 27, have strengthened the bond between Mishawaka officers, she said, a fact underscored by the outpouring of support at the service. "I believe that everyone seems closer because of what happened," McGinnis said. Family members of the two officers joined speakers in the memorial garden at the center of the entrance horseshoe while others, bundled in coats, hats, scarves and earmuffs, formed a half ring behind them. "To see this many people, it's unbelievable," said Dan Nilles, who knew both officers. "It shows you the community is really behind them." Roberts and Verkler are the second and third Mishawaka officers to die in the line of duty. Their names are etched below the name of Clarence Casper on the monument in the memorial circle in front of the police station. Casper was an officer who died in a motorcycle crash June 10, 1930. "They were and are, and always will be," Witkowski said, "heroes to all." |
April 25, 2005
Policemen bike to help families of fallen officersBy ADAM JACKSON
MISHAWAKA -- Ask any cyclist: A bike is a great way to have fun, save gas and get into shape. And while that holds true for three Mishawaka police officers, there is an even more important reason why Cpl. Tim Reiter, Sgt. Matt Flemming and Cpl. Mark Fedder will spend some vacation days pedaling this June. Like helping the families of fellow police officers cope with the unimaginable. All three will pedal 1,100 miles around the state between June 20 and July 2 as part of Cops Riding for Indiana COPS (Concerns of Police Survivors). The event will raise money for Indiana COPS, a statewide chapter of a national nonprofit organization dedicated to helping the families of police officers who have died in the line of duty. In the organization's mission statement, Indiana COPS' primary goal is "to be there for all survivors on a day-to-day basis, assisting them with anything they need." The group also provides training on survivor victimization prevention to law-enforcement agencies. And although participating means scaring up thousands in pledges and taking personal vacation time, the ride is a chance for three guys who love to ride to use a little leg power to make a real difference. "It's a real different atmosphere on the road," Flemming said. "You're out there with a bunch of other cops, and you're doing it all to help these families." Of course, participants are also sweating it out, bumping over rough pavement and cranking up steep hills, often covering 60 to 100 miles daily during their tour of the state, then falling asleep in accommodations ranging from high school gymnasiums to donated hotel rooms. It's not the kind of vacation one would want to undertake without a little preparation. For Flemming, that meant riding a stationary bike indoors for a couple of cold winter months. "You just have to make some time to train when you can," he said. "It's a lot nicer when it warms up and you can ride outside." That's what Fedder has been doing. While his two colleagues have done the ride before, he's making his inaugural run. And while the ride isn't a race, he's making sure he had the cardiovascular fitness to make the 13-day trip. And if that means measures such as sneaking in a ride while his daughter is at soccer practice, well, so be it. "You have to take it where you can get it," he said with a laugh. "It works. I think I got in more than 125 miles last week." But, all three men agreed, the work is worth it. They had a firsthand opportunity to see the state's COPS chapter in action in 2003, when fellow officers Bryan Verkler and Tom Roberts were shot and killed in the line of duty. That means they know that every bit of money they raise during the trip (riders must have pledges equal to at least $100 per day to participate) will go toward helping a police officer's family heal. "If it wasn't for COPS, the survivors wouldn't get taken care of," Fedder said. "They'd be forgotten." Staff writer Adam Jackson (574) 235-6553 |
June 5, 2005
Late officer's kin, companion heading to courtWithout a will, dispute over possessions has 'torn
family apart.'
When Mishawaka police officer Tom Roberts was murdered on Dec. 13, 2003, he left behind a loving family. He didn't leave behind a will. And that has set the stage for a lawsuit and bad feelings between his longtime partner and his grown daughters. "If anyone else can learn something from this tragedy, I hope it is that they should have an updated will," says Deb McGinnis, Roberts' partner for 10 years. Lisa Roberts, one of Roberts' six surviving siblings, agrees. "People need a will," she says. But that's about all that Lisa Roberts and McGinnis seem to agree upon now. Because Indiana does not recognize common-law marriages and there wasn't any will, McGinnis was left without any legal claim to his insurance policies or the house in his name. Roberts' two daughters, Lindsay Roberts-Stalcup and Holly Roberts, collected on the policies -- well into six figures -- awarded to the family of an officer killed in the line of duty. They then sold the house in Mishawaka that their father had owned but that McGinnis had shared with him for a decade. They also filed a lawsuit through their lawyer on May 26 in Superior Court to have many of their father's possessions turned over to them. But it was the house that initiated the bad feelings. "Yes, they did offer it to me at a discount and the bank did work hard with me to try to swing it so I could afford it, but I just couldn't," says McGinnis, who works full-time in the Mishawaka police's records department. She says she could have afforded taking over the mortgage, which was about $35,000. She thought that would have been fair. So did Tom Roberts' two brothers. Some others in the family didn't. "This has torn our family apart," admits Lisa Roberts, whose brother along with fellow officer Bryan Verkler were killed while trying to arrest a 30-year-old troublemaker suspected of armed robbery. That man then killed himself. In March, McGinnis said, she was forced to leave the house and now lives with her sister and brother-in-law part of the time and with her grown son the rest of the time. She has most of the furniture and the belongings she says she shared with Roberts in storage. Lawsuit over possessions These are some of the possessions -- clothes, collections and other keepsakes along with furniture, appliances, tools and a bicycle -- that McGinnis and the two daughters will now battle over in court. Their lawyer, Mark Phillipoff, also had a motion granted for a temporary restraining order on all of the contested items to prevent McGinnis from selling them. The Roberts daughters -- both in their early 20s, one still in town and one in Illinois -- also want 15 months of rent for the time that McGinnis lived in the house after their father died. "She stripped the house bare," Lisa Roberts says. "We're talking everything -- down to the light bulbs and curtain rods." McGinnis admits she left very little behind but says that what was in the house was all she has left from the life she had with Roberts. And many of those items they bought together, she says. "Tom and I couldn't have lived like we did just on his salary," McGinnis says. "We both contributed (with her salary of $31,000 and his of $48,000 at the time of his death). "I did give the girls all the pictures of them and their dad," she says. "And maybe I will share some of the other items with the family at some point, but it will probably be with Tom's brothers when I do." Gary Roberts, Tom's younger brother, says his nieces have also accused him of taking some of his brother's Notre Dame memorabilia, which he says is not true. "So many hurtful things have been said since Tom's death that our family has been destroyed," Gary says. "I was asked for advice about what the girls should do with the house and I gave my opinion, that Deb should have the house in a way she could afford it. And then later, it was thrown back at me that I had taken sides." Roberts' daughters chose not to talk about the situation for publication and contend it should be kept private, out of respect to their father's memory. "And that woman (McGinnis) has made their lives a living hell," Lisa Roberts says. Phillipoff, the daughters' lawyer, did not return Tribune phone calls. Spencer Walton, McGinnis' attorney, says the case is "utterly ridiculous." No 'common-law' marriages According to Walton, common-law marriages are not recognized in Indiana, but possessions shared in a partnership should be another matter. Without a will, though, McGinnis had no legal claim to the house, which was in Tom Roberts' name. How did all these bad feelings develop when everyone seemed to accept McGinnis into the family when Roberts was still alive?
"They were not engaged and my brother never talked of marriage to me when he would call about recipes and Notre Dame football," Lisa Roberts counters. Others have said both Roberts and McGinnis had stated they were making plans for marriage -- and had bought airline tickets for a February honeymoon in the Caribbean. "The only reason we hadn't married yet was because we both had children from other marriages and we didn't want to complicate their lives any more than they were when they were younger," McGinnis says. She pauses. "I loved those girls and still care for them. I haven't forgotten what happened to me also happened to them." After officer's death McGinnis says that after Roberts' funeral, Lindsay and her boyfriend (and now her husband) had stopped by the house. "The last thing she said to me was that her father would have wanted me to have the house," McGinnis says. "Maybe things would have turned out a little different had she (McGinnis) shown a better attitude back then," Lisa Roberts says. "She seemed all about the money from the beginning." McGinnis disputes that she had any curt conversations with Lindsay or Holly after the funeral. "And during Tom's funeral, I took a back seat," she says. "I accepted that because of etiquette (of not being officially a Roberts)." She says she accepted Walton's pro bono services in January 2004. "I just thought it was going to be a formality for the legal work," she says. McGinnis suspected things might not be right when she didn't hear anything from Roberts' daughters in February 2004 when she offered through her attorney to assume the mortgage payments. McGinnis knew that her relationship with the girls had taken a bad turn when she wasn't listed as family in May of that year for National Police Week activities in Washington, D.C. The Roberts daughters, meanwhile, felt they had been made to feel uncomfortable by Mishawaka police at any ceremony concerning their dad, with the police taking McGinnis' side in the dispute, Lisa Roberts says. "We have tried to treat everyone with respect and equally," Mishawaka Police Chief Ken Witkowski says on that charge. "For gosh sakes, those are Tom's daughters. We want everyone to feel comfortable at the various ceremonies." Lisa Roberts disagrees. "Police officers have bullied those girls, which is certainly not honoring the man who died for them." Other disputed issues For every point, there seems to be a counterpoint.
McGinnis says her former house may still be in her name but that it is her son's house now, and that he makes the payments.
McGinnis says she only wrote her feelings down about the house and Tom Roberts on one unfinished wall in the basement and behind a door. Witkowski says any complaint of that nature -- writing on the wall -- would be considered a civil matter.
McGinnis says the van had been red-tagged because of a March snowstorm and that the tires were not slashed but had become flat on one side because the van had not been moved for several months. "I never wanted it to get this way," McGinnis says. "As long as I live, I will never understand how this has turned out." Lisa Roberts says: "My brother had 10 years to change the executor to his estate, and he didn't. Maybe he had a reason." A cemetery scene Gary Roberts becomes disgusted by any claims that his brother and McGinnis were not deeply in love. "On my brother's birthday -- May 25 -- I rode my motorcycle out to the cemetery, and there was Deb down on her hands and knees scrubbing Tom's gravestone," he says. "She had her gardening tools with her, too. I know she keeps that area perfect." If only her relationship with some of Roberts' family could be the same. "At this point, I don't care what is said about me," she adds. "I am more concerned about telling my story to keep what happened to me from happening to others." In 2000, more than 5.5 million nonmarried couples were living together in the United States, up from about 500,000 in 1970. And today, only 15 states have any kind of common-law marriage laws on the books. Neither Indiana nor Michigan is one of them. An ending to this story may still be far from over as it prepares to go to court. What a sad story it is: Broken hearts, a shattered family and the memory of a good cop disturbed -- partly because there was no will. Bill Moor's column appears on Tuesdays, Wednesdays, Fridays and Sundays. Contact him at bmoor@sbtinfo.com, or write him at the South Bend Tribune, 225 W. Colfax Ave., South Bend, IN 46626; (574) 235-6072. |
| Home | N.E.S. | Photo's | Links |
This makeshift memorial is
behind the garage of Hilda Brown's Broadway home in Mishawaka. It is at
this site that Patrolman Bryan Verkler collapsed after being shot Dec.
13, 2003, while responding to a call on Sarah Street with Cpl. Tom
Roberts, who also was killed that night.
Julie Garcia is the new
resident of 1012 Sarah St., the home where two Mishawaka police officers
-- Cpl. Tom Roberts and Patrolman Bryan Verkler -- were killed a year
ago.
A large crowd gathered Monday
night in front of the Mishawaka police station for the memorial service
honoring the lives of fallen officers Thomas Roberts and Bryan Verkler.
Debby Fedder holds her
daughter, Katie, 9, as they look around the fallen officers memorial
outside the Mishawaka police station before the start of the memorial
service for officers Thomas Roberts and Bryan Verkler.
Mishawaka Police officers, from
left, Cpl. Tim Reiter, Cpl. Mark Fedder and Sgt. Mark Flemming will
pedal their bicycles more than 1,100 miles around the state in June to
support Indiana Concerns of Police Survivors (COPS).
![[SIG]](http://www.southbendtribune.com/stories/2005/06/05/Moor.jpeg)
Holly and Lindsay Roberts are
seen here with their dad, the late Tom Roberts, on a Hawaiian vacation
when the daughters were teenagers.
