More than a year after Sgt. Michael Moran was ambushed and killed during a routine traffic stop in Cortez, the community and fellow law enforcement officers continue to remember and honor him.
It’s apparent in things like the Mike’s March event in November, and how, a week or so after that, the entire Cortez Police Department was outfitted with rifle-rated, bulletproof vests.
At last year’s Four Corners Board of Realtors Parade of Lights, police and community members’ cars spanned almost six blocks, painted with memorial messages like, “Rest in Peace.” And, more recently, the police department posthumously awarded him a Purple Heart and Medal of Honor, which his daughters accepted on his behalf.
“It’s surprising to me how much he impacted the community. I know he’d been here for a while, but I don’t think it’s common knowledge among most community members how much interaction cops have with the community and how people remember who they are,” said Jenny Bashore, the dispatcher who was in the car with Moran the day he was killed.
“I only had the privilege to work with him for a couple of months but, you know, his murder was clearly,” Bashore paused. “It was felt.”
Moran, 46, first joined the Cortez Police Department in 2012. Before that, he served as a Marine for nine years, including two tours in Iraq. In 2016, he became a K-9 officer and started working with his German shepherd counterpart, Otto.
After a tragedy like this, “You realize how much the public stands behind us. It’s really amazing,” said Interim Police Chief Andy Brock.
“Everybody’s outlook is a little bit different,” he said, “and the family within the department is a little bit different.”
The sense of family in the department has been a constant.
“This is a big family,” said Patrol Sgt. Vance Carver. “It’s been like that before Mike got shot, it’s been like that after Mike got shot. I don’t think it’s changed too much of anything within the department other than bringing us all closer.”
And so, although some things are undoubtedly different, most of the officers who spoke with The Journal agreed the tragedy brought everyone together – a positive from what Brock called a “horrible, negative thing.”
“I think Mike played an important role in everyone’s life, even after he passed away,” said Lt. Rogelio Maynard. “We weren’t in a great place before Mike passed away, and since then, I think morale has increased.”
Maynard said they’ve since learned to leave the “silly, petty stuff behind.”
“It sucks we had to lose someone like Mike for that to happen, but I’m just happy that we decided to grow from it,” Maynard said.
“You know, it’s funny how he was able to make us get over his own death by being who he was. I don’t really know how to explain that,” said Detective Shane Fletcher.
Fletcher said that, when Moran first died, “the sadness kind of brought everyone together. A lot of us had never been through something like that. It was the worst day of a lot of our lives.”
Some staff at the police department had been through something like that.
Rex Brinkerhoff, a property technician at the department, remembered when Dale Claxton was killed on duty more than 25 years ago.
When that happened, it took a decade to catch the people who killed him.
“For years, we’d wonder if they were out there still, if it was done,” Brinkerhoff said.
He said he’s thankful there was a sense of closure after Moran’s death and that “we weren’t looking for somebody, sending people into Utah.”
But even with that sense of closure, it was no less tragic to lose Moran.
“When you as a group experience something like that, it’ll either make you or break you,” said Brinkenhoff. “In this case, I think it’s brought a lot of the guys closer.”
While reflecting on his own habits in the wake of such an experience, Brinkenhoff said, “I’m a grudge holder – I’ll admit it – but you learn to, you know, say your piece and move on.”
Maynard emphasized that sentiment and reflected on his own interpersonal relationships and what it means to maintain them.
“I’ve learned not to take relationships for granted,” he said. “I try to get along with everyone because you don’t know … when someone’s last day is.” And so he said he works “on keeping relationships since we lost Mike.”
While some, like Brinkenhoff and Maynard, were reminded of the value of relationships when Moran died, others seem to have embodied some of his qualities.
“One thing I loved about Mike is he had our backs no matter what,” Carver said.
In that regard, he was “like a brother or sister, where no matter what happens, he was there to back you up.”
“Even if you were right or wrong, he’d have your back and then talk to you about it later if you were wrong,” he added. “He was just that kind of person.”
Now, after Moran’s death, Carver said that when he’s on duty, he makes it a point to back people up.
“On anything I can make it to, I’ll always be there. That’s one thing that kind of haunts me is, like I said, I was just right down the road when he got shot,” said Carver. “We heard Mike on a traffic stop and then he got shot.”
He felt “survivor’s guilt.”
“I think everything happened the way it was supposed to that day, so I’ve kind of moved past it in mourning,” he said. “But definitely, I’m not going to be sitting there whenever I could be backing up one of my brothers or sisters in the field.”
Bashore recalled that day in Moran’s squad car, and said the last thing Moran said to her before conducting the traffic stop that killed him was, “Stay put.”
“One of the last things he was thinking of was my safety,” said Bashore. “I believe he knew something was off with the driver even though he didn’t verbalize it.”
“That moment sticks in my head,” she said.
To help law enforcement officers, dispatch and even their families and the greater community after Moran died, a lot of groups stepped forward to offer counseling-type services and helping hands.
Chaplain Dave Guy, who’s been with the Cortez Police Department for about 29 years, leads a group of 12 people trained to help those who experienced something traumatic, cope with it. It’s called the Critical Incident Stress Management Team.
“First we addressed the people who were on the scene, but the rings of influence go out from there,” Guy said.
The seven debriefings the team held after Moran’s death started with the police department and dispatch, and rippled out to include hospital workers and citizens, too.
“Officers and people can get through traumatic things. But pictures, sounds and the emotional response can take years to address,” said Guy. “So that’s what the team is for: It helps them talk through the situation.”
The team also offers “tools and ways to address the reality of what they saw and heard,” though what they do isn’t therapy, Guy said.
It’s more about hearing stories and finding solidarity among people who have a shared, traumatic experience.
“It’s important to be someone they can come to when they need it,” said Chaplain Todd Erlandson, who does this work with Chaplain Guy. “The role of a chaplain is to be a person that’s there for them when they need help.”
Lately, instead of waiting around for someone in the department to approach them, Erlandson said they’ve been proactive: “Now, we’re asking how they’re doing instead of waiting for them to come to us.”
It’s the kind of proactive attitude Detective Lt. Angelo Martinez remembers Moran having.
“I remember Mike as being a go-getter, a good guy,” said Martinez. “He was a super good guy.”
“Mike definitely didn’t like to sit around,” said Maynard with a smile. “He was the one that liked to go out, and everyone just followed along with him. Mike was out there, everyone else was out there, too.”
Maynard added that Moran liked to hold people accountable, too.
“Which is a good thing, I think. In law enforcement in general, I think we all should be accountable, and Mike did a really good job at holding us all to that,” he said.
“He was really smart, really intuitive. It almost felt like he was reading you without you saying anything, which is I think what made him a good cop,” said Bashore “He was funny, mostly easygoing, and a really easy guy to talk to.”
She said the morning he died, he went on a call. “It really impressed me.”
“It was a complaint. Somebody was having a problem with her son, her teenage son,” said Bashore. “He patiently sat and listened to her. In my opinion, he was being more of a therapist than a cop and it was …. He handled her with grace and mercy and calm to deescalate her.”
Bashore said she and Moran had been on the same shift for a month before he died.
“I believe he was a bright light in the department,” said Bashore. “People who might struggle to fit in found a friend in him.”
Lori Johnson, the dispatch supervisor, said she didn’t realize how close so many of the dispatchers were with Moran; he frequently worked nights, though, and “had the opportunity to sit and visit with them, and build strong friendships.”
“And Mike was one of those guys you could trust with your secrets,” Johnson said.
She added that “Mike didn’t smile a lot. So when he smiled, it was a good thing- especially during day shift.”
Fletcher also remembered Moran as “grumpy,” too, but also as “one of the best to work with.”
“Whatever you needed, he’d help you out with it. He’d stay late for you,” said Fletcher. “He did stay late just to hang out with everybody long after his shift.”
He was a great guy; “nobody’s going to tell you different,” Carver said.
So even though it’s been more than a year now, “everyone is still pretty impacted. It still feels pretty raw,” said Bashore. “It feels like the longest and shortest year.”
