On this day in Baltimore Police History 1956 we lost our brother Police Officer John R. Phelan due to gunfire based on the following;

The photograph of a rookie who dreamed of nothing more than police work as a career, now hangs in his nephew’s office, it is balanced by the unique patch of the Baltimore Police Department in a custom frame. The picture of the young man, full of life with unquestioned pride in his eyes, makes one contemplate his own mortality. At the end of 21, and with only four months of service protecting the City of Baltimore, Officer Phelan died at the back of an ambulance, the victim of a bullet from his own service weapon. His widow, 19 year old Jacquelyn Phelan, described her late husband’s love for police work as if it were a religion, she spoke of the many times he would rearrange his uniform, and clean his gun until he felt it was perfect. He would also polish the badge he worked so hard to earn. Sadly, the young man was killed before the birth of their first child. The neighborhood in the Northwest District lived in fear, as a gang of armed robbers on a rampage, were robbing small businesses and citizens at will. Officer Phelan bravely patrolled the areas hardest hit by those robberies. In an effort to catch the robbery suspects in the act, several officers hid in the back rooms of liquor stores, and grocery stores and patiently waited for these criminals to strike. Patrolman Wilbert J Schroeder hid in the rear of the Park’s Liquor Store in the 2700 Block of West North Avenue. Late on the evening of September 29, 1959, three men burst through the front door the liquor store brandishing handguns; they began shouting orders to the store owner William Park and his two employees, Gilmor Donte and James Curtis. On emerging from his hiding space, Patrolman Schroeder was met with a barrage of gunfire from less than 10 feet away, bullets flew, shattering bottles and cases of beer, but, amazingly, not a single person was struck, and the three robbers fled to the street. Officer Schroeder close behind, took aim at the largest member of the group and let his final round fly. It struck Alvin Herbert Braxton, a 6 foot, 210 lb. seventeen-year-old in his leg as he ran. The shot stopped Alvin Braxton in his tracks. With news a gun battle spreading fast, requests for assistance were quickly answered. Among those who responded were Patrolman Phelan and his partner, Patrolman Theodore Weintraub. With the scene secure, the officers sent for an ambulance to care off the young criminals for treatment to his leg wound. Medics, Walter Robinson and Mark Rohm arrived shortly afterward and loaded the critically injured man into their ambulance. In the mid 1950s, handcuffs, and leg irons were a luxury item. Often those patrolman who had them had spent their own money to acquire them. On this night not a single responding patrolman had a set of handcuffs to restrict the movement of the prisoner. In order to properly guard against escape, Officer Phelan and Weintraub joined the medics in the back of the ambulance for a ride to Lutheran Hospital. Braxton saw an opportunity to escape and began to fight despite the throbbing pain in his leg. The two patrolmen fought back in a desperate struggle within the closed quarters of the ambulance. The medics stopped their vehicle in the intersection of Popular Grove and Baker Street and went to aid of the patrolman. Before Robinson and Rohm could help, Braxton ripped of Officer Phelen’s gun from his holster and began firing wildly. He managed to shoot his way to temporary freedom by fatally wounding Officer Phelan and hitting Weintraub in both legs. The violent youth forced open the doors to the ambulance and assaulted a taxicab driver who was stopped nearby. He then took control of the cab and rammed the rear of the ambulance to keep the patrolman inside. By this time, others were responded to the sounds of gunfire, and frightened calls from citizens. Patrolman Henry Hau was first on the scene upon seeing Braxton Officer Hau took careful aim and shot Braxton four more times. With their ambulance damaged, Robinson and Rohm sped to the hospital in an attempt to save the two patrolmen’s lives. John Phelan died before he would reach the hospital, he would become the youngest officer to lose his life in the service of the city of Baltimore; eventually patrolman Weintraub would recover from his wounds. Patrolman Phillip Buratt and William DePaula, who were driving the patrol wagon, responded to the scene. Still without handcuffs, they transported the wounded Braxton to Lutheran Hospital for much needed care; upon arrival to the hospital Braxton would again attempt an escape, this time he would fight with all his strength despite his extensive injuries, eventually being subdued by an overwhelming number of police who finally handcuffed him. After he had received the necessary care, Braxton revealed the names of his fellow gang members, and where they could be found. Police arrested and charged Alvin Braxton, Roger Ray, Earl Pickett, and Albert Braxton, Alvin’s older brother, they were all charged with more than 11 robberies. The gang had stolen nearly $36,000 and three pistols. Allen Braxton was also tried convicted of murdering Officer John R. Phelan. If anything good could come of such a tragic moment, it was the public’s outcry over the fact that officers were not properly equipped. Newspaper editorials insisted on properly funding and equipping the Baltimore Police Department. One editorial looked upon the idea as a matter of common sense, “Certainly relatively small budget items should not stand in the way of maximum protective equipment for all policemen.” The editor went one to suggest that taxpayers would be far from hostile to inclusion of relatively small sums for general issuance of both handcuffs and new holsters.”

These measures did little to comfort young Jacqueline’s grief at the loss of her new husband, but they did promise that in the future, officers would have the added measure of safety that many officers today take for granted.

As his brothers and sisters of the Baltimore Police Department we will not let him be forgotten, His service Honored the City of Baltimore, and the Baltimore Police Department may he rest in peace, and may God bless him.

Sergeant John Platt 
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On this day in Baltimore Police History 2000, we lost our brothers, Sergeant Platt and Officer Kevin McCarthy who were killed when their patrol car as it was broadsided in that Hamilton intersection by a drunk driver. The two officers were on routine patrol in a residential area when the driver of a full-size pickup truck failed to obey a stop sign causing the collision.

The impact caused the officer’s patrol car to flip over and strike a utility pole. Both officers were killed instantly. Neither occupant of the pickup truck was injured. The driver of the vehicle was charged with DUI with other charges pending. The driver was found guilty of two counts of involuntary manslaughter and sentenced to two ten year sentences with all but six years suspended.

In 2003 after serving just 3 years and 2 months of his sentence, the driver of that vehicle was able to go home to his wife and kids, Sgt Platt and Officer McCarthy’s kids are still waiting to meet their dad’s, for them it will be a lifetime.

Sergeant Platt had been employed with the Baltimore City Police Department for 17 years and is survived by his wife, 3-year-old daughter, and 4-year-old son.

Officer McCarthy had been employed with the Baltimore City Police Department for 15 years and is survived by his 9-year-old daughter.

The Sun paper had a lot to say about the funeral of these two fine officers, as they reported the following:

The deaths of two police officers remind us not only of their vulnerability but our own. And when Mayor O'Malley offered his tender words of comfort, it took some of us back seven years, to another funeral, another slain policeman, and the randomness of life and death. This Officer’s name was Herman Jones. He was a 23-year veteran in a job in which every day is a roll of the dice. But the irony of his death, like Platt's and McCarthy's, was that it could have happened to anybody. Jones had gone to an East Baltimore carryout for an evening snack, where a teen-age kid who should have been home studying arithmetic pulled out a gun and shot him. And on a summer morning at the Little Ark Missionary Baptist Church, they laid Herman Jones' body in an open casket for everyone to see, Herman Jones' wife Linda and his children were nearby, as a choir sang so hauntingly that it tore everybody in the place up with tears.

Take my hand,

Precious Lord,

Lead me home.

And the Mayor of Baltimore was there that day. They saved a front- row seat for Kurt L. Schmoke directly in front of Herman Jones' casket, and the Mayor looked at poor Jones, and he heard the choir chanting its refrain, and you knew that something special was coming from Schmoke. The Mayor was so much like Jones. They were kids who'd grown up in post-war America, each a product of the great civil rights movement, each a graduate of Baltimore City College, each a football player for the legendary coach, George Young. This one would come from Schmoke's heart.

But nothing came
By the time the mayor reached the pulpit, he'd had time to think about the killing in his city, and he'd had time to absorb the emotional singing, and all of the church's mourners with their grief coming out of their pores, and there was nothing he could summon.

He muttered a few platitudes about the awfulness of killing and the need for some national sense of urgency, and in a few moments, he was done. Whatever passion he felt, he kept it to himself, and there were people who walked out of the Little Ark Missionary Baptist Church that morning feeling they had been cheated, the truth is Officer Joes was cheated, Platt's and McCarthy were the ones cheated, they gave their lives and the rules never change.

Last week, the new Mayor of Baltimore spoke quite beautifully. He calls the funerals of police officers the toughest part of his job. But the job is still new for Martin O'Malley. It has been his for less than a year. By the time of Herman Jones' funeral, Kurt L. Schmoke was five years into the job, and maybe 1,500 killings into it, and some of those killed were police officers of his city.

As their brothers and sisters of the Baltimore Police Department, we will not let them be forgotten. Their service Honored the City of Baltimore, and the Baltimore Police Department may they rest in peace, and may God always bless them.

Detective Charles H. Reid
Patrolman Killed Instantly in Crash

17 November 1943

Detective Charles H. Reid, 30 years old, of the 3800 block of Yolanda Road, was killed instantly early last night [16 Nov 1943] when his automobile left the East Lane on E. 33^rd St., near Ednor Road, ran up onto the parkway, and into a tree.

Patrolman Charles M. Michael, 28, of the 2700 block of Maryland Avenue, who was the passenger in the car, received a laceration to the scalp and chin as well as a contusion of his left leg. He was admitted to Union Memorial Hospital.

Both patrolmen were off duty and on their way home from working their shifts at the department at the time of their accident. Reid, who had been a member of the police department for over three years, was married but had no children.

On this day in Baltimore City Police History we lost our brother Detective John H. Richards based on the following: On August 31st 1871 at 7:45pm Detective Richards was attempting to question a young man about a stolen satchel. The suspect was seen in front of the store on Franklin Street when Detective Richards called out to him. The suspect suddenly produced a revolver, causing the unarmed Detective Richards to pull out his club and close the distance between the two. One shot was fired by the suspect, striking Detective Richards' arm a second was fired striking him in his upper chest. Those in the area heard two shots from a small pistol, which had resulted in seriously wounding Detective John Richards. A group of citizens observed the shooting and started to chase the suspect. The suspect attempted to shoot at the group but the gun misfired.

Witnesses are unsure of the events that followed, some say, after the gun misfired the suspect went to examined the gun to determine the cause of the misfired, he pulled the trigger and accidentally shot himself in the head; Others say he was cornered and once he realized he had no place to go, the subject turned the gun on himself. In either case the suspect died that day from a single shot to the head.

Detective Richards was taken to his home where his condition grew increasingly worse until this date back in 1871 when he succumbed to the wounds he received that day.

Detective Richards was survived by his wife.

As his brothers and sisters of the Baltimore Police Department we will not let him be forgotten, His service Honored the City of Baltimore, and the Baltimore Police Department may he rest in peace, and may God bless him.

On this day in Baltimore Police History 5 Nov, 1858 we lost our brother Police Officer Robert M. Rigdon in an Assassination by Gunfire – From the Baltimore Sun paper - The Examination before the Mayor – Investigation and Verdict of the Coroner’s Jury – The Excitement and Incidents of the Tragedy. – the killing of Robert M. Rigdon, an officer of the Western district, who was assassinated in the bosom of his family, at 468 West Baltimore street, the night previous, out of revenge for his testimony delivered in the case of Gambrill, concluded in Criminal Court on the same afternoon for the murder of officer Benjamin Benton, a brother officer of the deceased… The assassination appears to have been one of deliberate premeditation. Officer Rigdon, after answering roll call at the station house on Green street, retired into the privacy of his home. During the evening, and while Mr. Rigdon was in the back-room of his dwelling, a man (since recognized as Peter Corrie) entered the store-room, which is in the front part of the house, and looked at some undershirts and other articles displayed. In the store he conducted himself like a drunken man, but that was evidently feigned. His actions becoming repulsive to Mrs. Rigdon and a female attendant, she called on her husband to eject him from the premises. Fearful that the thing was a ruse to draw him within the reach of his enemies, Rigdon hesitated, and said to his wife, who stood in the doorway leading to the storeroom, “I don’t attend the store – tell him to go out,” or words to that effect. At that moment, while resting with his elbow against the mantel of the fireplace, where he had laid his pistol belt, the weapon of the crouching assailant in his rear was fired through the little window, which opens into the yard from the sitting room. Rigdon, who, from the position of the mantel, must have been but three or four feet distant from the weapon, received five slugs in his back, near the left side. His only exclamation was, “My God! I’m shot!” and attempted to reach for the sofa, but sank on the floor and died after heaving an audible groan. Persons passing upon the street and the residents alarmed by the shot, hastened into the house, where they stood horrified and trembling at the deed of blood before them, for a moment transfixed and unable to act. His wife is said to have acted heroically, and neither shrieked nor fainted, but recited all with coolness and self-possession which was remarkable. Officer J. Cook being in the vicinity hastened in the direction of the shot, and fell upon Peter Corrie as he was running away from the alley of Rigdon’s house.

The officer gave chase, when another man (since recognized as Mal Cropps,) followed, and ran along on the other side of the street. Cook singled out Corrie, and came up with him on the run, calling on him to stop. Corrie did not heed but ran down Baltimore to Pine and to Penn streets, the pursued and pursuer occasionally exchanging shots. At Penn street, Cook was joined by officers Jamison and Huggins, one of whom sprang his rattle in advance of Corrie, which so alarmed him, that he slackened his pace and was easily captured. When he found himself in the hands of the officers, he begged for life, and said as “God lived” he was innocent of the murder. He then in his fear, confessed, and said “Mal Cropps did it.” He was locked up in a cell at the western district.  

Officer Rigdon's murder could have the unfortunate distinction of being the first instance of an American law enforcement officer being murdered while off-duty, for his official actions as a lawenforcement officer.

Baltimore Sun Article Dated 11/08/1858

The Assassination of Robert M. Rigdon – The Examination before the Mayor – Investigation and Verdict of the Coroner’s Jury – The Excitement and Incidents of the Tragedy. – The Sun of Saturday contained the startling announcement of the killing of Robert M. Rigdon, an officer of the Western district, who was assassinated in the bosom of his family, No. 468 West Baltimore street, the night previous, out of revenge for his testimony delivered in the case of Gambrill, concluded in Criminal Court on the same afternoon for the murder of officer Benjamin Benton, a brother officer of the deceased… The assassination appears to have been one of deliberate premeditation. Officer Rigdon, after answering roll call at the station house on Green street, retired into the privacy of his home. During the evening, and while Mr. Rigdon was in the back-room of his dwelling, a man (since recognized as Peter Corrie) entered the store-room, which is in the front part of the house, and looked at some undershirts and other articles displayed. In the store he conducted himself like a drunken man, but that was evidently feigned.   His actions becoming repulsive to Mrs. Rigdon and a female attendant, she called on her husband to eject him from the premises. Fearful that the thing was a ruse to draw him within the reach of his enemies, Rigdon hesitated, and said to his wife, who stood in the doorway leading to the storeroom, “I don’t attend the store – tell him to go out,” or words to that effect.   At that moment, while resting with his elbow against the mantel of the fireplace, where he had laid his pistol belt, the weapon of the crouching assailant in his rear was fired through the little window, which opens into the yard from the sitting room. Rigdon, who, from the position of the mantel, must have been but three or four feet distant from the weapon, received five slugs in his back, near the left side. His only exclamation was, “My God! I’m shot!” and attempted to reach for the sofa, but sank on the floor and died after heaving an audible groan. Persons passing upon the street and the residents alarmed by the shot, hastened into the house, where they stood horrified and trembling at the deed of blood before them, for a moment transfixed and unable to act. His wife is said to have acted heroically, and neither shrieked nor fainted, but recited all with coolness and self-possession which was remarkable.   Officer J. Cook being in the vicinity hastened in the direction of the shot, and fell upon Peter Corrie as he was running away from the alley of Rigdon’s house.

The officer gave chase, when another man (since recognized as Mal Cropps, followed, and ran along on the other side of the street. Cook singled out Corrie, and came up with him on the run, calling on him to stop. Corrie did not heed but ran down Baltimore to Pine and to Penn streets, the pursued and pursuer exchanging shots occasionally. At Penn street, Cook was joined by officers Jamison and Huggins, one of whom sprang his rattle in advance of Corrie, which so alarmed him, that he slackened his pace and was easily captured. When he found himself in the hands of the officers, he begged for life, and said as “God lived” he was innocent of the murder. He then in his fear, confessed, and said “Mal Cropps did it.”   He was locked up in a cell at the western district. 

Baltimore Sun Article Dated January 27, 1859

At about 10 ½ o’clock it was announced that the jury, who had been out all night in the case of Corrie, had agreed upon a verdict, and they soon after entered the court. Their names having been called, and the prisoner directed to hold up his right hand, the court said the verdict must be received in silence, and without demonstration whatever on the part of the spectators. The clerk then, amid breathless silence, asked – “What say you, is the prisoner at the bar guilty or not guilty?” The foreman replied, “guilty of murder in the first degree.”

Baltimore Sun Article Dated April 9, 1859

Yesterday was the day fixed upon by the Governor of the State of Maryland for the execution of the four condemned murders, Henry C. Gambrill (Note; this is the person who murdered Officer Benton), Marion Cropps, Peter Corrie and John Stephens… Many persons had arrived in the city during Thursday to witness the scene – all parts of the State, the District of Columbia, Virginia and Pennsylvania, and even New York city and Buffalo being represented on this occasion. Early in the morning throngs of persons began to pour in from Baltimore, Howard, Anne Arundel, Harford and adjacent counties, and the houses of the city appeared empty themselves of their inhabitants – all wending their way to the streets and hills to the west and north of the jail, which commanded full view of the gallows erected within the jail yard. The housetops, windows, trees and all other places from whence a more enlarged view could be obtained were crowded with human beings. A sea of faces met the eye far and near – men, women and children – old age and infancy – white and black – swelled up the vast multitude, drawn to witness the horrible spectacle…

The execution throughout was conducted with the greatest precision and humanity, the orders and arrangements of Sheriff Creamer being carried out with the most scrupulous fidelity. To the sheriff and those deputies who assisted him every credit is due for the faithful discharge of their duties – No execution that ever occurred in Baltimore was performed with more strict regard to mercy and humanity, and not a single circumstance occurred which could cause regret, the performance of the stern demands of the law.   

As his brothers and sisters of the Baltimore Police Department we will not let him be forgotten, His service Honored the City of Baltimore, and the Baltimore Police Department may he rest in peace, and may God bless him.

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