[Congressional Record Volume 142, Number 11 (Friday, January 26, 1996)]
[Senate]
[Pages S527-S529]
From the Congressional Record Online through the Government Publishing Office [www.gpo.gov]




   OFFICER RONALD MICHAEL RYAN, JR., AND OFFICER TIMOTHY JAMES JONES

 Mr. WELLSTONE. Mr. President, I rise to pay tribute to two 
gallant police officers from Saint Paul, MN. On August 26, 1994, 
Officer Ronald Michael Ryan, Jr. and Officer Timothy James Jones gave 
their lives in the line of duty.
  It is important that the memory of their brave lives be a part of the 
official history of our country. I therefore ask that the following 
eulogies by Chief William Finney be printed in the Congressional Record 
on behalf of these two slain police officers: The eulogy by Chief 
William Finney in memory of Officer Ronald Michael Ryan, Jr. and the 
eulogy by Chief William Finney in memory of Officer Timothy James 
Jones.
  The eulogies follows:

        Ronald Michael Ryan, Jr.--Eulogy by Chief William Finney

       Ron Ryan junior brought youthful enthusiasm, warmth, 
     friendship and loyalty to our department. He touched our 
     lives in a very special way, and gave has all to his brothers 
     and sisters in blue. The greatest thing this extraordinary 
     young man gave to us was his commitment, to make our city a 
     better place to live, to make our department a more pleasant 
     place to work, and to add whatever he could to the lives of 
     those around him. He represented the very best that a Police 
     Officer can be, and in a very real way represented the spirit 
     of the St. Paul Police department.
       Many people think it's easy for the son of a Police Officer 
     to follow in dad's footsteps, especially when they work for 
     the same department. And especially when the son shares the 
     father's gift of gab, easy humor, and superior people skills. 
     But Ron Ryan junior learned just the opposite. He learned 
     that the trials and tribulations of being a rookie cop who is 
     the son of a cop were extra hard, that there would be a 
     little more razzing from the troops. Ron Junior had a routine 
     of polishing the brass buttons on his 

[[Page S528]]
     uniform before coming to work. One time a supervisor asked to look at 
     those buttons, and Ronnie obliged him. But when he got them 
     back he noticed they were quite tarnished, and that the 
     supervisor had switched them, for his own dirty ones. The gag 
     went on and on, and eventually, Ron got to the point of 
     bringing in an extra set of polished buttons to work. On a 
     larger scale, Ron Ryan junior polished up the image and 
     morale of this department with his tireless well of positive 
     energy.
       Ron was a hard worker, never afraid to help out a fellow 
     officer or be first on a call. And he was a quick thinker, 
     quick to figure out what had to be done in tough situations. 
     Just a year ago, he and two other officers formed a human 
     pyramid to remove three children from the second story of a 
     burning house. For that he received the Medal of Merit--our 
     second highest award--an amazing accomplishment for a rookie 
     cop. And he didn't let up. Just this year, he was given 
     another commendation. Think about that. Two commendations in 
     less than a year. Ron Ryan junior was one of the best young 
     Police Officers our department has seen.
       He joined us in July of 1990, as a parking enforcement 
     officer. Never losing sight of his real goal, he took our 
     oath as a Police Officer on January 23rd, 1993. And in just 
     19 short months he made his mark, served his beloved east 
     side, and made his department proud.
       Today, it is with the heaviest of hearts that I say goodbye 
     to Ron Ryan Junior. We will all remember you for your 
     courage, your heroism, your willingness to serve and that 
     sparkle you gave to those around you. And let no one ever 
     forget that Ron Ryan Junior was truly one of St. Paul's 
     finest.
                                                                    ____


          Timothy James Jones--Eulogy by Chief William Finney

       It is my distinct honor to share some thoughts today on the 
     life of Officer Timothy James Jones--a man who was not only a 
     St. Paul Police officer for the past 16 years, but also a 
     talented leader, a loving husband and father, and a special 
     friend to all of us. It is very difficult to convey in words 
     the scope of his contribution to our police department. Along 
     with his energy, humor, and commitment to police work, he 
     also brought what can be a rare commodity: results. 
     (Productivity) When Tim Jones answered a call, you could be 
     sure that the situation would be resolved. For 16 years, he 
     built a strong record of service. He was a mature police 
     officer, who had recently shifted his focus toward helping 
     younger officers improve their law enforcement skills. The 
     advice and direction that he gave the younger officers will 
     be a legacy which will live on in the future of the St. Paul 
     Police Department.
       Tim had an infectious grin and he could be a bit of a 
     jokester. One of his closest friends told me he's probably 
     looking down from heaven right now, laughing and calling us 
     names. His closest friends lovingly called him ``Nip,'' or 
     ``the Nipper.'' I personally preferred to just call him 
     Jonesy. Another of our Asian American officers, Pat Lyttle, 
     teamed up with Tim to form a racketball duo known as the 
     ``Far East Connection.'' Tim was always ready to laugh, and 
     more than willing to laugh at himself.
       But when he put on the uniform and hit the street, he was 
     all business. (Pride) He pursued his mission as a police 
     officer at 100 percent, at all times. He was known as the 
     officer who would be the first on the scene, and the last to 
     leave. (Professionalism) His assignment to the canine unit 
     was a natural progression in which he extended his 
     helpfulness across the city. And whenever Officer Jones 
     showed up with his canine partner Ninja or more recently 
     Laser, you knew the bad guy would be found. The other 
     officers would be attracted to him like a magnet, because 
     they knew he would get results. They would watch and wonder 
     and learn. That made him the purest kind of leader--one who 
     leads by example. (Participation) On three occasions, he was 
     given commendations by our police department for his 
     outstanding service to the community.
       His pursuit of excellence vaulted him into national 
     prominence. In 1988, he and NINJA ranked 4th in the United 
     States in individual canine competition. In 1989, they took 
     third place. In 1990, another third place finish. And in 
     1991, a 5th place finish. They were part of our St. Paul 
     Police canine team which took top honors nationally in 1989, 
     1990 and 1991. Tim didn't really strive for those kind of 
     honors--he just did the best job he could, and he got 
     results. And he made all of us proud.
       Lately he had been sharing his wisdom. He and Laser would 
     arrive first at the scene, as usual, locate the bad guy, and 
     then keep him confined as he allowed one of the younger 
     canine officers to go in and make the arrest. He wanted 
     those younger officers to get the experience they needed 
     to mature as he had. They responded by telling him he was 
     no longer the Nipper. No, they told him he had evolved 
     into ``Buddha,'' the wise one.
       Whether he was being the ``wise one'' or a ``wise guy'' Tim 
     Jones was a very special cop. Last Friday, when he heard what 
     had happened to his friend Ron Ryan, he came in on his day 
     off to help. That didn't surprise anyone--that was Tim Jones. 
     It didn't surprise anyone that he would be the first one to 
     locate the suspect, either. It was the outcome that has 
     shocked us, and left us with an empty place in our hearts. To 
     the end, he and his canine partner were heroes. With Officer 
     Jones down, his partner Laser continued to pursue the suspect 
     with his last breaths, after being mortally wounded. His 
     canine partners: Ninja, the national award winner, Laser, the 
     apprehender, and finally, K-C, the narcotics detector, who 
     carries on the Jonesy canine tradition.
       Tim Jones became a St. Paul police officer on October 31st, 
     1978. It was his 21st birthday. For 16 years, he learned and 
     excelled and led, and passed-on a unique legacy to those 
     around him. Officer Tim Jones epitomized the spirit and 
     essence of the police ``four P's: pride, professionalism, 
     participation and productivity.''
       He leaves behind his wife Roxanne, and children Matthew and 
     Chelsie. Recently Tim had been skipping golf games to take 
     his son to hockey practice several times a week. He gave 
     everything he had to his family, both at home and at the 
     police department. And we will all miss him deeply.
       To Roxanne, Matthew and Chelsie: It is not enough to say 
     that he is in heaven. The fact is, heaven was made for people 
     like Tim. He died as he had lived--trying to help others 
     without thinking of himself. But we will all be thinking 
     about you, Tim. For no one has ever given us greater gifts, 
     or a greater sacrifice. My, my, my--wasn't he a piece of 
     work.

  Mr. WELLSTONE. Mr. President, I ask further that the following 
remarks from The Saint Paul Police Department 1994 Annual Report be 
printed in the Record. Dedicated to the memory of Officer Ron Ryan, Jr. 
and Officer Timothy Jones, it is entitled, ``August 26, 1994--Our Day 
of Tragedy.''
  The material follows:

                  August 26, 1994--Our Day of Tragedy

       The morning of August 26, 1994 broke with a beauty and 
     clarity that is rare even during Minnesota's fleeting summer. 
     The air was calm, warm and clear as the sun rose above the 
     spire of Sacred Heart Catholic Church at 6th Street and Hope. 
     Officer Ron Ryan Jr., 26 years old, walked up to check on the 
     welfare of a man who was slumped down in the driver's seat of 
     a red subcompact car, parked in the church parking lot. The 
     officer's concern was met by a flurry of gunfire from the 
     drifter. The evil ambush claimed Officer Ryan's life, 
     shattered the calm of that morning, and set a sickening tone. 
     During the search for the suspect that day, there would be a 
     second ambush and the loss of Officer Timothy Jones and his 
     canine partner, Laser. Offsetting the horror and disbelief of 
     those events, was the professionalism of the Saint Paul 
     Police force, who put aside grief, until the search for the 
     suspect had been successfully completed. Only then did the 
     grieving process begin; a grief shared by hundreds of 
     thousands of metro area residents, by police officers across 
     the country, and by many others who reflected on our day of 
     tragedy.
       It had been 24 years since a Saint Paul Police Officer had 
     fallen to gunfire, more than two decades in which Saint Paul 
     officers had been spared the tragic realities of most other 
     American cities. Some would say it was Saint Paul's 
     reputation for treating suspects with respect. In the course 
     of arresting literally hundreds of thousands of suspects, no 
     Saint Paul Officer had been attacked with deadly force. But 
     it all changed that morning in August. Guy Baker, 26, a man 
     wanted on weapons charges in his native Iowa, had told 
     friends in Mason City that he was thinking about shooting a 
     police officer. For reasons which are still not clear, he 
     decided to borrow a friend's car and drive to Saint Paul. As 
     Officer Ryan walked up to the car that morning, Baker held a 
     gun under the coat he was using as a blanket. He knew the 
     officer would check his identity and then probably arrest him 
     for the warrant. Baker ambushed Office Ryan and then took his 
     service weapon after he had fallen. A resident who witnessed 
     the attack fired a shot at the suspect vehicle from the 
     window of his home, shattering the car's back window. But the 
     suspect got away before the first squads arrived at the 
     scene.
       Baker drove only a mile before he ditched the car and 
     changed clothing. In a wooded area close to I-94, he waited 
     for the officers he knew would be searching for him. Once 
     again he assumed a position that would allow him to ambush an 
     officer. Unlike the typical suspect who would be acting out 
     of fear, Baker's actions were those of a demented, yet highly 
     trained combat veteran. He took up a position inside an ice 
     fishing shack in the back yard of a home on Conway Street. 
     With a row of windows in the small structure, Baker had an 
     unrestricted view on the world outside. But it would be 
     nearly impossible to see him from the outside. He sat in his 
     killer's perch and waited.
       Officer Timothy Jones, 36, a veteran canine officer who had 
     won national awards, was enjoying a day off with his children 
     when he heard the news about his friend Ron Ryan. Without 
     hesitation he came into work to aid in the search for the 
     killer. In retrospect, no one was surprised that he would be 
     the first officer to locate the suspect. He was known as one 
     of the best officers in a canine unit that had won the top 
     national award four out of the last six years. As hundreds of 
     officers fanned out searching for the suspect it was Tim 
     Jones and Laser who picked up his scent and began moving 
     toward the fish house. As the officer approached the 
     structure, shots blasted from the inside, through the flimsy 
     window and wall of the structure, hitting Officer Jones. He 
     died less than four hours after his friend and co-worker Ron 
     Ryan. As Baker exited the fish house, Laser attacked, 
     latching onto the suspect with his powerful 

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     jaws. Baker shot the animal, but it attacked a second time. After being 
     shot several times, the dying canine was still crawling 
     towards the suspect with his last ounce of energy.
       Baker had made another getaway, but it was to be short 
     lived. Within two hours he was arrested and taken to the 
     hospital to be treated for the dog bites he had suffered. 
     Eventually he would plead guilty to the two murders.
       Twin Cities television and radio stations were providing 
     instant, live coverage of the events as they unfolded that 
     Friday. The unprecedented coverage made it a very public 
     tragedy, and that followed through to the funerals. Literally 
     thousands of people lined the streets along the funeral 
     procession routes.
       Officer Ryan was buried on August 30. In his eulogy, Chief 
     Finney said Ron Ryan Junior ``brought youthful enthusiasm, 
     warmth, friendship and loyalty to our department.'' More than 
     2,000 police officers from as far away as Canada attended the 
     funeral.
       Officer Jones was buried on August 31. Chief Finney called 
     him ``a talented leader, a loving husband and father, and a 
     special friend.'' An estimated 400 canine officers from 
     across Minnesota and many other states were on hand, along 
     with hundreds of other officers. A four mile long procession 
     of police cars stretched from the Cathedral to Elmhurst 
     Cemetery.
       The memories of these two fine officers will live on in the 
     history of our department. Ron Ryan Jr. gave much to us, in 
     just a short time. Tim Jones shared his knowledge and 
     maturity with his fellow officers. Without hesitation, they 
     gave the ultimate sacrifice while serving their department 
     and city. They will not be forgotten.

                          ____________________