To hear the story that aired on Weekend Edition Sunday, click the play icon above. The story's transcript is below.
For the second time in as many days, the Atlanta Police Department yesterday attended a funeral for one of their own.
On Nov. 3rd, Officer Richard Halford was flying a police helicopter in search of a missing 9-year-old. Officer Shawn Smiley sat next to him, assisting. For reasons not yet know, that helicopter struck power lines and crashed on a northwest Atlanta street, killing both.
Saturday, his friends, family, hundreds of police officers and some who never met him gathered to say goodbye.
Officer Shawn Smiley was different things to different people, but always uniquely special.
“Even in death, he taught us a lesson. Not many people lose their lives in the service of others. I’d like to believe there’s a special place in heaven for people like him.”
To a police chief, Officer Smiley was the ultimate example of those sworn to serve and protect. To a Lieutenant who commanded Smiley fresh out of the police academy, he was someone who earned respect.
“Shawn was definitely a leader amongst his peers. He was in his late 30s when he joined APD. And you could tell he had an agenda for success. He was a driven man, and I’m here to tell you he has succeeded.”
From the day he joined the force, Officer Smiley was on a mission to make it to the prestigious and highly selective air unit. To the head of that section, Officer Smiley was an anomaly.
“We only chose one out of hundreds. And for Shawn to be chosen out of the hundreds of officers we interviewed in such an early point in his career, it’s unheard of. It doesn’t happen.”
To Atlanta’s Mayor, he was an example:
“This was a man on a mission. In my neighborhood, we’d say this say this is somebody who was a man on fire who had a spirit for people and a heart for service.”
Shawn Smiley was a friend to his fellow officers, who thought of his last name as an adjective. His patrol partner remembers how the two made often long shifts “fun.”
“As smiley and I finish eating, we looking at the Waffle House getting crowded. He was like, ‘Dog, you ready to go?’ And I’m looking at Smiles like ‘Hey man, we should run out of here. Just hit the door and just run.’ Smiley was looking at me like ‘uh-uh.’ I said Smiley, come on. So I counted to three. I said one, two, and I’m looking at Smiley’s face, and he’s looking at me like this. And I said three. And I took off running like I had a 9-1-1 call. I turned behind me and Smiley was right behind me running. Man, we got to the patrol car and we looked inside the Waffle House, and everyone was outside because they wanted to know what we was doing.”
To Elizabeth, William and Victoria, Shawn Smiley was simply dad.
“Hi dad, this is your love bug. I’m going to miss when you call me that.
I love you daddy.
I will love, cry, and miss you forever. Love Victoria.”
To wife Terra, he was the college sweetheart she called husband for the past 18 years. And to his mother, Carol Smiley:
“I’m gonna tell you, a lot of me is missing. I’m gonna tell you that.”
Shawn was a son whose presence made her full, and whose absence leaves a hole in her heart.
“So the first thing Shawn heard from me was a song. It was sweet. So I thought it be fitting that the last thing I do would be to sing a song.”
Officer Shawn Smiley was 40 years old.
A memorial fund is set up at area Wells Fargo Banks for his family, as well as the family of Officer Richard Halford.
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