Rare Killing Jolts Close-Knit Department

GLENDALE — As news of the death of Investigator Charles Lazzaretto blared from a radio in the lobby, Glendale police officers gathered at the station Wednesday to remember their towering, quick-witted comrade, the first Glendale officer to die in the line of duty in 25 years.

Several officers broke down as they recalled Lazzaretto--or Laz, as co-workers called him--the 6-foot-4 department comedian who was an avid reader and embraced hobbies ranging from computers to scuba diving.

“He was the best officer. The best,” Officer Louie Mazadiego said haltingly. “We are all in shock.”

Lazzaretto, 30, the father of two small boys, was shot in a darkened warehouse in Chatsworth late Tuesday while trying to apprehend a man suspected of beating a woman, Glendale police said. The officer had entered the warehouse and was instantly caught in a barrage of gunfire as his partner dived for cover.

Struck in the head, Lazzaretto lay still for nearly two hours as backup officers struggled to get near him but were driven back by more gunfire. Two Los Angeles police officers were wounded in the confrontation, which eventually left the suspect--identified by Glendale police as Israel Chapa Gonzalez, 28--dead.

Such a calamity is almost unknown in Glendale’s close-knit department of 229 officers. Glendale lost an officer in a motorcycle crash in 1926 and another in a traffic accident in 1972.

But the only other slaying of an officer occurred in 1915, when a local town marshal was killed by a robbery suspect, said Sgt. Rick Young, adding: “We have a lot of healing to do.”

Lazzaretto, who lived in Valencia, was described as devoted to his two sons, ages 3 and 2, and his wife, Annamaria, a part-time dispatcher.

He was known as a sharp and dedicated officer who often was commended by judges and prosecutors for his meticulous work. His doggedness, said Glendale Police Chief James E. Anthony, was apparent in his pursuit of Gonzalez in the Chatsworth warehouse Tuesday night.

“He worked everything as if it was the big case,” Officer Roger Johnstone said.

While easygoing with others, Lazzaretto was occasionally hard on himself and was so self-effacing that, once, when as a young officer his patrol car broke down, he called his sergeant to meekly ask how much he would have to pay to have it towed.

“I thought he was messing with me. I was laughing, I said, ‘You don’t have to pay for a tow truck!’ ” said Sgt. Mel Barnes.

But Lazzaretto also dazzled colleagues with the breadth of his interests outside work. He scuba-dived in the Caribbean, golfed, flew model planes, played softball, hunted, fished, ran marathons, played soccer with his brothers, and was a whiz with computers. “Your typical Mr. gadget guy,” said Johnstone. “He had a knack for figuring things out.”

Friends and colleagues were often shown Lazzaretto’s new computer tricks and gadgets, said family friend Cameron Thornton. He constantly changed his screen-saver on his computer at work. “Welcome to my world,” it proclaimed on Wednesday.

Lazzaretto also burned through novels and biographies. “Most of us just read publications that relate to policing,” Officer Kevin Hirano said. “But he was a voracious reader.”

In recent years, Lazzaretto had taken up long-distance running, completing a marathon in Washington, D.C., with his father, former Burbank City Manager Andrew Lazzaretto.

Hirano, who attended the police academy with Lazzaretto, said policing came easily to him. “We would all be cramming for a test and he would go out and watch a movie. Then he would get the highest score in the class.”

“He could have done anything,” said Officer Bob Masucci.

Others described Lazzaretto as “a big teaser,” commonly seen striding through the halls with a wad of bubble gum in his mouth. He jokingly hollered “yes SIR!” in response to even the most casual greeting, a relic from his days in the U.S. Marine Corps Reserve.

And when his former patrol partner, Officer Jay Katska, would show up for work, Lazzaretto greeted him with absurd nicknames. “Jay-Jazzy-Jay,” he’d belt out. Katska would tease him because he carried more guns and ammunition than most officers. “Yeah, but who you gonna call if you get in trouble?” Lazzaretto would retort, Katska said.

“You never saw him frustrated,” said Community Service Officer Cyndi Lindner.

Lazzaretto was called a hero by Chief Anthony in a grim-faced news conference Wednesday. Anthony, who just the day before announced his pending retirement, said condolences from Glendale residents had been pouring into police headquarters since early morning, and numerous flower arrangements had been delivered. “It’s like losing a member of the family,” he said.

Lazzaretto joined the department 10 years ago, spending two years as a reserve officer before going full time.

An arson investigator for much of his career, he was recently named to the robbery/homicide unit. Colleagues said he was thrilled about the transfer.

Being a police officer was Lazzaretto’s dream since boyhood, said Dominic Lazzaretto, 25, of Glendale, one of the officer’s three younger brothers.

“He was always the law-and-order brother. I’m not sure why,” Dominic said, adding that Charles was the first in the family to go into law enforcement.

On Wednesday, officers milled around the Police Department lobby, crying and hugging each other, even as they attended to the more mundane duties of police work.

In a scene that underscored the unreal cast to the day, one officer took a deep breath before fielding a call about tree trimming, calmly explaining regulations on branches and power lines as a co-worker sat at his elbow, weeping quietly.

Dominic said the family never talked to Charles about the dangers of his job. “It was always in the back of everyone’s minds. But we always supported him 100%. He loved his work. He loved doing it.”