An excerpt from the book, “Some Gave All,” available from Amazon
By Mike Simmons
Roosevelt Walker was the kind of guy you want on your side. He refused to succumb to peer pressure or to opposition. He had high standards and kept to them, no matter what. And the best part was that he didn’t think he was better than others because his standards were higher. He treated everyone with respect and decency (author’s opinion from personal knowledge.)
Roosevelt was born in Pensacola on September 17, 1958, to Roosevelt Sr. and Geneva Walker. Shortly afterward, the family moved to Chicago, Illinois, where Roosevelt spent a good part of his childhood. In 1975, he enlisted in the United States Army and served three years. Moving back to Chicago, he met and married Renee Mitchell. They soon returned to Pensacola and made it home.
Roosevelt began working with the Pensacola Police Department in 1981. Finally, he found it. This was the job for him. He loved it, and he was good at it. Before long, he had a proven reputation, in the court system, in the station, and on the street. He began in the Patrol Division but soon moved to Narcotics, where he worked undercover. He also continued his education.
Roosevelt resigned from his position at the police department to pursue his degree full-time. He worked for the University of West Florida Police and later for the Escambia County Sheriff’s Office as an aide. After he obtained his Bachelor’s degree, he became a road deputy – back to serving the public. It wasn’t long before he became a field training officer and began training new deputies as they began their careers in law enforcement.
At the beginning of 1998, two momentous events in Roosevelt’s life took place. On February 3, Roosevelt Jr. was promoted to sergeant at the Escambia County Sheriff’s Office by the new sheriff, Charlie Johnson. It was a moment that brought pride to his family, his friends, and to the Sheriff’s Office.
Eleven days later, on Valentine’s Day – February 14 – Roosevelt lost his mentor, the man who raised him. Roosevelt Walker Sr. passed away. The family celebrations turned to mourning.
Sgt. Walker was working the evening shift on Friday night, May 22, 1998. The evening shift – the busiest of all shifts. A weekend night – the busiest of all nights.
A new deputy was called on the radio and dispatched to a domestic disturbance on Nevada Circle, a location known for problems. Sgt. Walker, familiar with the area, radioed that he would be en route as a backup.
Nevada Circle was found off West Fairfield Drive, in the Oakcrest and Mayfair areas. While the neighborhood was the epitome of a great neighborhood for kids in the 1960s and 70s, it had had its problems for the past 10 years. It was lately more known for drugs, violence and criminal activity than anything else. The new deputy needed the veteran sergeant with him to keep him safe.
When they arrived, the problems – which had already reached criminal proportions – got worse. A domestic situation had become violent, and the aggressor was 33-year-old Angela Lavvorn. The trainee tried, as per policy, dialogue. He tried to talk to her, but she refused to calm down. Next, Sgt. Walker, who was an expert at communication, talked to her. He tried to get her to talk to him instead of resorting to violence. It appeared to both lawmen that Ms. Lavvorn was under the influence of some kind of drug. Her condition worsened. It was time to place her under arrest. As the two deputies put their hands on her to take her into custody, she fought back by spitting, kicking, and biting.
What Roosevelt hoped would be a simple solution turned into a major fight. When a person is under the influence of a mind-altering drug, they become erratic, violent, and strong. Techniques often applied by using pain-compliance become useless. Overpowering is met with superhuman strength. The two deputies had their hands full.
After a major battle, they were able to handcuff Lavvorn and take her into custody. The trainee looked at Roosevelt, hoping to get a “well done” by the veteran, but instead, he saw his sergeant grab his chest and collapse. An ambulance was called for and responded. Within minutes, Roosevelt was in the emergency room at nearby Baptist Hospital. But it was hopeless. Sergeant Roosevelt Walker died of a massive heart attack that evening.
Roosevelt’s family was in shock. How much more can we take? they wondered. A few months ago, they lost the family patriarch and now they lost their strong man. The Sheriff’s office wasn’t in much better shape. Roosevelt was one of those guys that everyone depended on, and he delivered. He was always there for his fellow officers. He wasn’t supposed to die.
Greater Union Baptist Church rises as a standard for Christianity above the other buildings along the side of Interstate 110. It is a beautiful and stately edifice. Thursday, May 28, 1998, was a hot spring day in Florida. But that didn’t deter the sea of officers, family, and friends from paying their final respects to a mountain of a man. The many law enforcement cars lined up for the procession and the officers, dressed in meticulously creased uniforms with shiny brass and badges, with covers that completed the Class A uniforms walked into the church. It was there. Even though they didn’t want it to be, it was. The casket holding their comrade. Of course, not everyone worked closely with him, but anyone who had ever met Roosevelt could call him a friend. That’s how he was. He made everyone feel important, from the sheriff or chief to the lowly new guy – no difference to him. They were going to miss that.
Roosevelt Walker
Upon entry into the place of worship, each officer or deputy removed his/her cover and placed it under their arm. Then they made their way to the front of the church to pay respects to the fallen officer.
The casket was guarded by friends who volunteered to give honor to Roosevelt. One by one, they passed by and said their final goodbyes, some verbally, others silently – in their own way.
At 12:00 noon, the Reverend Alvin Pinckard, pastor of Houser Memorial AME Zion Church, stepped to the microphone. He was masterful. A great communicator, he seemed to know just what to say to everyone – from church members to distant friends to law officers to close friends to immediate family. He offered words of comfort coupled with scripture that made the crowd know that Roosevelt – and all of us – are watched over by the Almighty.
At the close of the service, the officers filed out, replaced the covers on their heads, and formed a guarded gauntlet from the church to the waiting hearse. As the pallbearers exited the building, the command, “Present, Arms” was given, and every officer proudly saluted the sergeant.
Then the procession began. It continued through the streets of downtown Pensacola through to Pensacola Naval Air Station. As the motorcycles led the way and boarded the Station, the members of the U. S. Navy who were on duty at the gate came to attention and saluted. They remained so until the last car passed.
Full military honors were given to the late hero, and brief words were spoken by Rev. Pinkard. There is something final about the 21-gun salute and TAPS sounding. It was final. The service ended with Sheriff Johnson presenting the folded American flag to Roosevelt’s wife Renee, “from a grateful county.” To further complicate matters. Roosevelt Walker III graduated from Pensacola High School two days after his father’s funeral. It made the celebration less celebratory. Roosevelt III had already enlisted in the United States Marine Corps. Now he would serve like his dad, for his dad.
Good job Mike.
Thanks