At Law Enforcement Memorial, Solace in the Language of a Flag and the Bond of Shared Loss

In the long moments of silence during Wednesday evening’s Law Enforcement Memorial Service at the Flagler County Sheriff’s Office–in the pauses between the invocation and the sheriff’s reflections, as families of the fallen pinned red roses on the memorial wreath, during the solemn pinning of red roses–you could hear the flapping of the three flags above the 150 or so people assembled for the occasion, among them the American flag.




“I listened to the flag tonight. And I could hear it well. It spoke to me,” said Palm Coast Mayor David Alfin, who sat right below the three poles (the state and the Sheriff’s Office flags also flew.) On Feb. 2, 2021, FBI Special Agent Daniel Alfin, the mayor’s son, was shot and killed with his partner, Laura Schwartzenberger, while serving a warrant in South Florida. “Those aren’t words. But it was very important to me. I heard our American flag talk to me tonight.”

These memorials are never an an easy place to be for Alfin–he dreads them long in advance–and at the same time they’re an essential place to be. “Not Being alone is incredibly important,” he said. “The fact that we all can share in each other’s grief over the tragedy is strengthening and helps you get through the next year. I already dread doing this again next year, but it’s become a part of life. What I look forward to is being able to share that emotion with the other families. So it creates a bond amongst those that are feeling this tragedy. Strength is the community to be able to come together like this.”

With him were the family members or descendants of the law enforcement officers fallen in the line of duty through the years–Sheriff Perry Hall and Deputy George “Son” Durrance (1927), Sheriff Homer Brooks (1965), Deputy Charles “Chuck” Sease (2003), Sergeant Frankie Celico (2011), Deputy First Class Paul Luciano (2021), Bunnell Police Department Sgt. Dominic Guida (2021), with whose family sat Chief Dave Brannon. Every so many years, the black granite memorial bearing the names gets more crowded, the recitation of the names gets longer, the emotions they elicit dim not a bit.

“We must always celebrate their legacy,” Sheriff Rick Staly told the assembly. “Although our fallen heroes are no longer with us, their legacy lives on in the memories of their colleagues, friends, family, in a community they serve.”

Earlier in the day the sheriff had unveiled a memorial plaque to Perry Hall, for whom the county jail is named, and who was the county’s first fallen officer, on Aug. 21, 1927. He’d been elected sheriff just two years before when he raided a shack suspected of being used to produce moonshine, or illegal liquor–those were the years of Prohibition–in a northwest Flagler community known as Roy. Jim Smith struck him on the head with a glass bottle. The sheriff died the next day in a St. Augustine hospital. A posse of 200 men tracked Smith down in Georgia and killed him as he was fleeing from the home where they’d found him. The jail was named for Hall in 2018.




“Our work is not for everyone. protecting and serving goes beyond a standard nine to five job and requires whatever it takes to enforce the law to protect what we hold dear and serving the community day and night, even if that means laying down our own life for a stranger,” Staly said. “Law enforcement and correctional officers of the first responders, they’re lifesavers, they’re decision-makers, they’re the ones who wear the badge and stand between each of us and evil.” He spoke of the number of officers who have died so far this year. “I would like to be able to tell you that’s the last that we’ll lose across the nation and in Florida. But history unfortunately has a sad track record ever repeating itself.”

The sheriff is in the habit of signing two cards every time a law enforcement officer dies anywhere in the country–one for the agency where the officer served, one for the officer’s family. “Sadly, I have signed more cards this year, frankly, than I can count and remember in just a little over four months.”

Last year 137 law enforcement officers were killed in the line of duty, 48 by gunfire, 23 in car crashes, 15 from 9/11 related illnesses, 10 in vehicular assaults, and another 20 from Covid, heart attacks or duty-related illnesses. So far this year, 56 officers have died in the line of duty, 20 by gunfire, 20 either in crashes or from being struck by a vehicle, like Bill Hooser, the last officer killed this year.

He was a 50-year-old sergeant with the Santaquin Police Department in Utah after he initiated a traffic stop on I-15 the morning of May 5. He was responding to a report of a person standing on the back of a semi-trailer on I-15 south of Salt Lake City. The driver, a career criminal, “fled and turned his tractor-trailer around, driving south on the northbound lanes, when he hit Sergeant Hooser, his patrol car, and the trooper’s vehicle,” the Officer Down Memorial Page about Hooser reports. “Sergeant Hooser was killed instantly.” He had a wife, two daughters and a granddaughter. A candlelight vigil for Hooser took place Wednesday within hours of the memorial in Flagler.




Florida lost three law enforcement officers last year and one this year, Zachary Fink, a Florida Highway Patrol trooper killed during a car pursuit in St. Lucie on Feb. 2 when, making a U-turn after the suspect had done the same on I-95, a truck struck Fink’s car. Fink was 26. The truck driver, Arsenio Mas, 55, of Homestead, was also killed.

“Each of their stories is a testament to the bravery and valor of American’s law enforcement at every level, and a reminder of the tragic loss felt by countless families and loved ones across America when a hero falls,” the sheriff said. “We know that our community is strong, supportive and resilient, and that we can overcome any obstacle when we work together. We pledge to continue to honor the legacy of our fallen heroes to support their families and to always strive to make our community safer.”

Flagler Beach Police Chief Matt Doughney remembers losing friends and colleagues when he was in Daytona Beach and Avon Park. I had an on-duty Sergeant when I was the chief at Avon Park that died on Christmas morning in 2008,” Doughney said, referring to Sgt. Sergeant Marc Charles Wilbur, a 43-year-old veteran of 19 years on the force. He’d run a canine training session previously, and before his shift started, collapsed on a heart attack. “It’s something that you just really never, ever, ever get over losing somebody. Whether you’re the chief, whether you’re a deputy, whether you’re you’re the sheriff, no matter what rank, you’re losing a brother or sisters. It’s just heart-wrenching. But that’s the reality of law enforcement. We do it every day.”

As the families, the sheriff and other officers took part in the rose-pinning ceremony–red roses on a yellow wreath in front of the granite memorial–the rustles of the flags began to mix with the muffled sounds of choking, of sniffles and that other rustle tiny packs of tissue paper make as they tear. Alfin kept looking up at the sky, by then past dusk.

“I can see my son’s face when I look up,” Alfin said. “It’s a blank canvas for me, it’s a chance for me to see him alone, completely focused. And it’s a form of a bond and a communication.”