[Congressional Record Volume 163, Number 123 (Thursday, July 20, 2017)]
[House]
[Pages H6135-H6136]
From the Congressional Record Online through the Government Publishing Office [www.gpo.gov]
HONORING THE MEMORY OF OFFICER MIOSOTIS FAMILIA
(Mr. FASO asked and was given permission to address the House for 1
minute and to revise and extend his remarks.)
Mr. FASO. Mr. Speaker, today I rise to honor the memory of Officer
Miosotis Familia.
Officer Familia was a member of the New York City Police Department's
46th Precinct in the Bronx who lost her life in the early hours of July
5. She was targeted by a deranged ex-convict who assassinated her in
cold blood.
As New York City Police Commissioner James O'Neill said at Officer
Familia's funeral: ``Everything our government stands for--freedom of
speech, freedom of worship, freedom from want, freedom from fear--
everything starts with public safety. Miosotis knew this, and she
wanted all of to us play our part.
``That is why violence against police and what we represent is a
dishonor to civilized society.''
With a renewed dedication to law enforcement and the communities they
serve, we pledge to keep Officer Familia's legacy alive.
Mr. Speaker, I include in the Record Commissioner O'Neill's remarks.
Remarks by Commissioner O'Neill for Officer Familia's Funeral
Good morning everybody.
Barbara [NYPD Chaplain Rev. Dr. Barbara Williams-Harris],
I'm not sure if I'm ready to celebrate yet. I have to work on
it.
Members of the NYPD Chaplains Unit; Pastor Davidson and the
staff and congregation of World Changers Church--I love the
name; Mayor de Blasio; Adriana, Gennie, Peter, Delilah;
Inspector Phil Rivera and all the men and women of the 4-6
Precinct in the Bronx; law enforcement officers from all
across our nation and the world, many of whom traveled great
distances to support us in this time of incredible sorrow;
and all other friends and family gathered here this morning:
On behalf of the entire New York City Police Department, I
extend our most profound condolences.
Police Officer Miosotis Familia was a kind and authentic
woman.
One of 10 children raised in Washington Heights before she
and her family moved together to the Bronx, she was serious
but sharp-witted. And though she was the youngest, her
siblings say she was never spoiled.
Miosotis was the glue that held her large family together.
She would mediate any dispute, especially among her six
feisty sisters. Known as a lovable goof, they playfully
called her ``La Loca,'' or Crazy Girl.
And later, as a mother, she would teach her own children
life lessons--like being kind to strangers, blessing others
with a smile, and respecting those less fortunate.
I'm told that Valentine's Day was her favorite holiday.
She'd really go overboard with the hearts and the decorations
in their Kingsbridge apartment, just so the kids could see
all the love that was theirs.
Like every New Yorker, Miosotis just wanted to do her job,
work hard, live without fear, improve her life, and the lives
of 86-year-old mother, her two daughters, and her son.
But she also wanted to do something else: She wanted to
improve the lives of other families, as well. When she made
that decision 12 years ago to become an NYPD cop--a Bronx
cop--she epitomized why many people choose to become police
officers.
Gennie, Peter, Delilah: I can talk forever about the great
things--the fantastic things that police officers do every
single day for millions of people--but nothing I can say will
bring your mom back. I'm sorry for that.
But I can make you this promise: Your mom didn't die in
vain. Your mom's legacy will never fade from importance or
memory.
Your mom made it her mission to make your home--New York
City--a better and safer place for everyone. And I vow to you
we will continue to find our way forward in her honor.
Because that's what cops do.
Cops are regular people who believe in the possibility of
making this a safer world. It's why we do what we do. It's
why we run toward, when others run away.
Your mom believed in the possibility of being part of
something larger than herself. She accepted the vast
responsibility that came with her decision, knowing that it
would be challenging, recognizing that someone has to do this
job, and believing she was willing and able to fill that
role. And she was right.
Miosotis wanted other people to know her, to work with her,
and to help her make this a better city for all of us.
Everything our government stands for--freedom of speech,
freedom of worship, freedom from want, freedom from fear--
everything starts with public safety. Miosotis knew this, and
she wanted all of us to play our part.
That is why violence against the police and what we
represent is a dishonor to civilized society. We should be
outraged that any single person had so little regard for your
right to public safety.
On the night our nation celebrated its independence, the
coward who committed this atrocity did not walk down the
street after midnight and shoot just anybody.
He shot a cop.
Mental illness and medication may have played a part--I
don't know. What is certain, however, is that he hated the
police. He saw us as the ``bad guys'' because countless times
he heard it in conversation, saw it on television, read it in
the newspapers. Combine that toxic blend with his special
brand of evil, and you get . . . this funeral.
Hate has consequences. When we demonize a whole group of
people--whether that group is defined by race, by religion,
or by occupation--this is the result. I don't know how else
to say it: This was an act of hate, in this case, against
police officers--the very people who stepped forward and made
a promise to protect you, day and night.
This amazing woman, this mother, this daughter, this
sister, this friend, this New York City police officer, was
assassinated solely because of what she represented and for
the responsibility she embraced.
All her killer could see was a uniform, even though
Miosotis was so much more. He blamed the police for his own
terrible choices in life. And for the way he emerged after
our society agreed he should go away to prison for a while.
As a city, and as a country, I don't believe we're in the
same place we were at the end of 2014, when Detectives Rafael
Ramos and WenJian Liu were assassinated under similar
circumstances in Brooklyn. We are on firmer ground now, with
police and communities working more effectively together.
But in mid-2017, there unquestionably is a creeping apathy
among the public about the work and role of its dedicated
police officers. I think of it this way: You don't really
notice the lights are on . . . until they go out. If we do
wrong, we are vilified. If we do right, we are ignored.
There is little attention paid to positive changes in
policing, in general, and in this police department, in
particular, no matter how effective they may be.
[[Page H6136]]
But the manner in which Miosotis was killed should remind
everybody that the civility of our society balances on a
knife's edge. And the 36,000 uniformed members of the NYPD
are just regular people who made a selfless decision to help
maintain that balance.
There is nothing more human than a 48-year-old mother of
three, living in the Bronx, who decided to swear an oath, put
on a uniform, and live a life with meaning. Fighting crime
and keeping people safe is not a responsibility that the
police take lightly, and neither should the public.
While crime continues to go down, year after year, that
provides little comfort when the fabric of our society, the
blanket of public safety we provide, is torn by a senseless,
direct assault on one of our protectors.
Here are the numbers we don't talk about nearly enough:
Since our start in 1845, more than 840 New York City police
officers have died in the line of duty. Miosotis is our
seventh cop to be shot and killed in just the last five
years. And she's our third female officer ever to be murdered
on the job.
Across our nation, 135 police officers were killed in the
line of duty last year, the sharpest spike in the last five
years. And just yesterday, New York State Trooper Joel Davis
was killed in the line of duty while responding to a radio
run of a domestic dispute in upstate New York.
Each of these murdered officers has one thing in common:
They lost their lives while protecting the lives of others.
Some people say: ``Well, that's what cops signed up for,
right? That's their job.''
Let me tell you something: Regular people sign up to be
cops. They sign up for this job of protecting strangers,
knowing there are inherent risks. But not one of us ever
agreed to be murdered in an act of indefensible hate. Not one
of us signed up to never return to our family or loved ones.
So, where are the demonstrations for this single mom, who
cared for her elderly mother and her own three children?
There is anger and sorrow, but why is there no outrage?
Because Miosotis was wearing a uniform? Because it was her
job?
I simply do not accept that.
Miosotis was targeted, ambushed, and assassinated. She
wasn't given a chance to defend herself. That should matter
to every single person who can hear my voice, in New York
City and beyond.
We know there's evil in this world. That's why we need the
police. But as New Yorkers, we can decide that people like
Miosotis' killer will ultimately fail. He will not drive us
apart. We can decide to come together and make our city
reflect the good inside all of us, the hopes and simple
dreams we share.
I'm asking the public to make a commitment to support your
police, to work with us. Commit to watching the backs of
those you call when you're scared, those you call when you're
in trouble.
NYPD cops answer about four-and-a-half million radio runs a
year, and are flagged down countless other times. AnAfor good
or bad, only a tiny handful of our actions make the news.
That tiny handful--some when things go right, others when
things go wrong--because that's what sells newspapers--those
are the ones that define us. And the millions--literally
millions--of our other actions go unnoticed.
But we don't turn away from criticism, because we know it
comes hand-in-hand with the possibility of making the safest
big city in America even safer. We know you need us. And we
need you. We want all our neighborhoods to be safer places
for our children, for our elderly, for ourselves.
But without peace and safety, we have nothing. It's a
shared responsibility. You must participate. You must not
retreat.
It seems that we put all our societal failures on our
police to solve. If there's not enough drug addiction
funding, many say it's the police who should change their
tactics. If there's not enough money for mental health, many
say it's the cops who need to alter what they're doing out on
the streets. If our society hasn't adequately invested in
schools, the cops need to figure that out.
We tell our police: ``You're the counselor, you're the
parent, you're the social worker, you're the referee.'' But
policing was never intended to solve all those problems.
It's our obligation to continually drive down crime and
keep people safe. That's what Miosotis vowed to do. And
that's the work we vow to continue in her stead.
What we are left with are the memories, moments shared,
lives touched, friendships forged. There is no making sense
of what is truly senseless. There is no explaining the
unexplainable. Words do not do it justice. We cannot fix the
hurt. We have to put that in the hands of a higher power. And
the higher power I'm talking about is you.
We need the public to take a more-active role in our city's
safety. I'm asking you to connect with your police. Listen to
my words: Your police. We are yours. We're here to help.
We're here to make things better. But we nee your assistance.
We need it now, more than ever. Because no one knows what's
going on a street, or a block, better than those who live and
work there every day.
That's how your neighborhoods will keep getting better. And
that's how we're going to continue to keep driving crime down
and keep everybody safe. And that's how we'll find our way
forward, together. That's Miosotis' legacy.
The pain we feel today will not soon pass, but we know she
did not die in vain. Our anger can be transformed into
effective change. Our sorrow can make us a better society. We
may not ever match the sacrifice made by Miosotis, but surely
we can try to match her sense of service. If we cannot match
her courage, we can strive to match her devotion.
In the last few days--the 4-6 Precinct, Police Plaza, all
across New York--we've received many, many messages of hope
and support. They tell us that people around the nation and
around the world love the police very much, and mourn with
us. They tell us they need us, and that they are proud of us.
I, too, couldn't be more proud of our cops.
To the men and women of the NYPD who bravely put on that
uniform every day--and they do, it takes courage--and to all
those who have come before us: Thank you for your dedication,
your leadership, and your powerful example.
And I also couldn't be more proud of--and thankful for--
Miosotis, whom I promote today to Detective-First Grade.
Please rise and applaud her life and service.
To Gennie, Peter, and Delilah: Here we are, today,
literally surrounded by a sea of blue as far as the eye can
see outside this building. And know this: Our family will
always be with yours. We don't ever forget. We will always be
here for you and this city.
And to all the members of the NYPD: Do not ever forget why
you chose to become a police officer. Be proud of who you are
and what you do. Always remember that Miosotis lived to
protect all New Yorkers, and her legacy protects us still.
We pray that she now finds rest, and that her beloved
family finds solace and peace and the strength to live the
lives their mother fought to give them.
God bless Miosotis. God bless her family. God bless every
member of the New York City Police Department, who will
forever carry on her most important work.
Thank you.
Mr. FASO. I also include in the Record my full statement. May God
bless Officer Miosotis Familia's memory.
Mr. Speaker and my colleagues, today I rise to honor the memory of
Officer Miosotis Familia. Officer Familia was a member of the New York
Police Department's 46th Precinct in the Bronx who lost her life in the
early hours of July 5th. She was targeted by a deranged ex-convict who
assassinated her in cold blood. All of New York was affected by this
evil act. The 48-year-old loving mother devoted her life to helping
others. Sadly, she becomes the third female NYPD officer to be murdered
on the job; the first in New York since 9/11.
Officer Familia had two daughters and a son. She wanted to leave them
a better future, a safer city. Every one of the 36,000 uniformed
members of the NYPD goes to work every day for this vision. They
sacrifice. They risk bodily harm, and worse. Too often they do so
despite a hostile media and an indifferent public. As New York Police
Commissioner James O'Neill said about her, and all law enforcement
personnel, at Officer Familia's funeral: ``Cops are regular people who
believe in the possibility of making this a safer world. It's why we do
what we do. It's why we run toward, when others run away.'' He
remarked, furthermore, ``Everything our government stands for--freedom
of speech, freedom of worship, freedom from want, freedom from fear--
everything starts with public safety. Miosotis knew this, and she
wanted all of us to play our part. That is why violence against the
police and what we represent is a dishonor to civilized society. We
should be outraged that any single person had so little regard for your
right to public safety.''
Through it all, Officer Miosotis Familia carried love in her heart:
love for the Bronx neighborhood she patrolled; love for the people of
her city and state; and love for the oath she swore all those years ago
when she made the decision to enter law enforcement: To serve and
protect.
Her killer--and I refuse to mention his name--was driven only by
hate. This is the hate which in 2016 resulted in the sharpest spike in
police killings in five years. It is the hate that robbed three
children of their mother with a single gunshot on a dark Bronx street.
I want to share with this Chamber a recollection by Officer Familia's
oldest daughter, delivered at her funeral. She said that Miosotis came
into her room on July 4 before going to work, a regular person
believing in the possibility of bringing about a safer world.
She said, ``I'm going to work now. And I love you.'' She hugged her
daughter, twice, and left to join her fellow officers. Now Officer
Familia joins those lost in the line of duty. With love in her heart,
she kept us safe. With a renewed dedication to law enforcement and the
communities they serve, we pledge here to keep Officer Miosotis
Familia's legacy alive.
____________________