**This is a hard and heavy post, so grab a Kleenex or feel free to skip away if you are not in an emotional place to read this. Most of the post is actually written by Theo after he was privileged to stand in Detective DelRio’s honor walk this morning**
On Monday evening, a DEA task force comprised of both federal and local agents executed a raid on a known local drug house. As Detective Jorge DelRio of the Dayton Police Department descended the basement stairs, he was shot twice in the face. Details of what happened in the next few moments have not been released, but we do know that Det. DelRio was loaded into
The past few days have been difficult for the Dayton blue family. No, actually…the past few months have been tough. Dayton was (begrudgingly) host to a white supremacist rally back in May. Just two days later, the Memorial Day tornadoes swept through the city, wreaking havoc in their path. The first responders in Dayton worked tireless overtime to help clean up and guard facilities against vandalism. And of course, we cannot forget the mass shooting that took place in the Oregon district on Aug 4th. The Dayton officers neutralized the situation in less than 30 seconds, but it was still a gruesome and tragic time. And now…this. Detective DelRio shot.
This morning, Det. DelRio was removed from life support and his organs were taken from his body. Many hospitals in the country have a ceremony called an “honor walk”. As a patient is moved from his room to the operating room, nurses, doctors, and staff are invited to line the halls in order to give honor to the person who is saving lives even in losing their own. In this case, law enforcement officers were also asked to join the honor walk and lined the hallways of Grandview Hospital. There was no official count, but estimates assume over 500 people lined the hallways for Detective DelRio’s honor walk.
Theo was invited to attend, and he took a moment this afternoon to capture the emotion of the moment. I asked his permission to share the following piece that he wrote
Honor Walk
A hush infiltrated through the rows of people, spreading between the small clusters of men and women standing in the hallways and waiting rooms. Everywhere I looked I could see my brothers and sisters in blue, officers who were gathered here for one singular purpose: to honor the fallen.
In the evening of November 4, 2019 a Dayton Police Detective and DEA Task Force officer had been shot. Detective Jorge DelRio, a 30 year veteran of the Dayton Police Department, was joined by other officers to serve a search warrant at a known drug house in Dayton. While descending into the basement, Det. DelRio was shot twice in the face by a resident of the house. He was rushed by police cruiser to Grandview Hospital where he remained on advanced life support until now.
As the silence became heavy among us, the crowd began to move. Hundreds of us slowly shuffled our way through a single door and then along a maze of hospital hallways. As we walked, we passed dozens and dozens of police officers already lining the walls. These were patrol officers, detectives, state troopers, federal agents, and command staff from jurisdictions all around Dayton. They stood in silence as we passed, looking to find our place along the wall.
After three nights on advanced life support, it was announced that Det. DelRio’s injuries were not survivable. He had spent the majority of his adult life serving the local community. One could not quantify the number of lives saved or changed for the better by the average police officer. Det. DelRio was not an average police officer. After 30 years on the police force, Det. DelRio could have chosen to retire years ago, but instead he continued to serve. Joining the DEA Task Force two decades prior, he continued to fight to take drugs off the streets of the community. Now, after he had already given so much, he was giving one last time, by donating his organs to countless people in need of them.
There I stood, shoulder to shoulder, with police officers I had never met. A second row of men and women stood quietly behind my row, and still another row stood facing us with their backs to the opposing wall, an impenetrable expanse between us. That expanse seemed to swallow up the concentrated gazes of each officer. After long moments of silence, attentions started to shift toward the end of the hall. As I glanced in the direction, I could see movement.
Step by step, the Dayton Police Honor Guard deliberately and proudly made their way toward us. Immediately to their rear followed several hospital staff, who appeared to shrink due to the vast attendance of on looking officers. They escorted a hospital bed, which was adorned with a large American flag. Beneath the flag Detective Jorge DelRio lay peacefully, the machines still ticking to keep his body alive. Without needing to look around, I could sense all eyes were on him, burning this image forever into our brains. Such a solemn and serious moment it was as he passed by. It felt as though the flag and the body which lay beneath were sacred. Our presence and gazes were not the source of this sacred moment, for in actuality we were merely here to witness the final step of Det. DelRio’s long path, a path of sacrifice.
As my eyes lingered on the passing man, my ears began to perceive sounds. They were the expressions of sorrow and grief coming from family members trailing the hospital bed. As if a veil was lifted, the sacred turned to pain. Most eyes of the observers were watery, and the few who were able to refrain were unable to hold back expressions of anguish. Yet this is why we were here, both to honor and to support. Behind Det. DelRio’s family came Dayton Police Command Staff, a large attendance of DEA agents, and lastly more Dayton Police Honor Guard. The time it took for everyone to pass was mere seconds, but the emotions felt by all were enough for a lifetime. And as the procession rounded the corner, onward through the next hallway of onlookers and supporters, we remained. Not a word was said. No one fidgeted. Hundreds of us remained as statues, once again staring into the expanse, overwhelmed with emotion and sorrow.
But sorrow was not alone, for it is not the tale of Det. DelRio’s life. He lived a life of sacrifice, a life of joy with his family and friends, and a life of dedication and battles won. Sorrow cannot and should not be the defining emotion in our hearts and minds. Instead, pride. Pride felt by us for the life he lived. Det. DelRio was not an average officer and not an average man. Men and women who choose to live this way make a community great. Men and women who love their families well, who serve their communities in whatever capacity they can, who work hard and always seek to do what’s right—these are men and women we can be proud of. Those who descend the basement stairs, we honor them.
A brief video of the honor walk
Ways you can help/support the family:
- Order blue bows to be hung along the route of the funeral procession (please email me for address). I will personally be helping to hang these bows
- Donate to the Go Fund Me account for funeral expenses and to help support his wife: click here
- Monetary donations to the local businesses who are providing food for the funeral- there are going to be a large number of law enforcement agencies in attendance
- Servers for the funeral on Tuesday morning