Orlando Sentinel

Farewell for ‘fighter,’ ‘hero’

Fallen Orlando police Officer Valencia remembered in emotional funeral service

- By Monivette Cordeiro and Jeff Weiner

Orlando police Officer Kevin Valencia lived after being shot in the head by a domestic violence suspect and, over the more than two years that followed, survived through 12 surgeries and a pandemic, his wife said.

As his rehab progressed, he made tremendous strides, Meghan Valencia said, managing to stand with help and eat pureed food.

“These were incredible feats for somebody who had such a traumatic brain injury,” she said, delivering a eulogy for her husband at First Baptist Church of Orlando, where he was hailed as a hero by family members and current and former colleagues. “I just don’t know how we got here.”

“To say that Kevin was a fighter would simply be an understate­ment,” she added.

Hundreds of law enforcemen­t officers from various agencies, as well as government officials and other guests, gathered Wednesday to remember Valencia, who died last week while in hospice care, years after he was wounded by a domestic violence suspect’s bullet in 2018.

OPD Chief Orlando Rolón described Valencia as a kind man, a team player and a public servant who made “the ultimate sacrifice.”

“He is the quintessen­tial police officer who is always prepared to meet the challenge,” the chief said.

Rolón highlighte­d the dangers that officers face and the demands of their jobs, which entail wearing body armor to work and the possibilit­y each day of encounteri­ng a lifeor-death situation. He said the bad actions of a few officers nationwide have tarnished the reputation of law enforcemen­t, but they

don’t represent the majority — Valencia does.

Those who think policing is “broken,” should remember Valencia and his family because “thinking otherwise is an injustice to them,” he said.

Meghan Valencia thanked OPD “for everything that they have done for my family.”

“For the past two and a half years, they’ve stood by us, they’ve helped us, they’ve come to birthday parties,” she said, fighting tears. “When you talk about a police family, it truly is a family.”

She described the difficulty of choosing how to remember her husband — as a police officer? As a father? As a husband?

“All that kept replaying in my mind was, ‘I shouldn’t be doing this,’ ” she said. “I’m only 29, and I’m having to sum up a life that had barely begun.”

Officer William Thomas remembered Valencia as his “brother,” recalling a time when Thomas’ son was sick and Valencia brought him and his wife ice cream at the hospital. He said Valencia kept a toy dinosaur that belonged to his own son on the dashboard of his patrol car to remind him of his family.

Another friend, Carlos Valladares, said Valencia was ready for anything during his time at the Doral Police Department. He kept goggles in his car, which he used when he jumped into a canal to save a driver who was drowning, and once showed up to remove a large alligator off a roadway with rope and duct tape.

“Kevin never seemed to be scared or hesitant when faced with dangerous situations,” Valladares said.

Members of Kevin Valencia’s family reminisced about his youth. Mario Escobar said he was 15 when his mother had Kevin, hoping for a girl but instead getting a “very cute” boy. As their mother’s health declined, Escobar took care of his 11-year-old brother, who knew how to make arepas, a typical Colombian dish, better than adults.

Later, Karen Chambers, the mother of Kevin’s high school best friend, became Kevin’s mother, too. There was never a dull moment with him, she said.

His brother, 18 years his senior, said Kevin was born with his own fan club and “every hug seemed like he was hanging on your neck.”

“My baby brother was not supposed to die before me, but he has,” said Stephen Scott, Valencia’s eldest sibling.

A hearse carrying Valencia’s flag-draped casket arrived at the church off South John Young Parkway around 9:30 a.m. It was greeted by the Orlando Police Department’s mounted patrol unit, which met it with a riderless horse as a symbolic reminder of the departed officer.

The funeral was followed by an outdoor ceremony, with tributes including a rifle volley, taps, helicopter flyover, final dispatch, a pipes and drums corps performanc­e of “Amazing Grace” and a formal flag-folding presentati­on.

As the service began, Pastor David Uth of First Baptist told those gathered, “We are here to honor a hero.”

“I remember so well the first moment the word got out,” he said of the night Valencia was wounded. “June 11, 2018, seems like a long time ago, but that was the day it all happened, that was the day we started to pray.”

Valencia was part of a squad that responded to Westbrook Apartments after Ciara López called police and said her boyfriend, Gary Wayne Lindsey Jr., had dragged her by the hair and repeatedly kicked her in the face. She fled to a nearby 7-Eleven and left her four children — Dove, 1; Aidan, 6; Lillia, 10; and Irayan, 12 — locked in their bedrooms in the apartment.

After initial attempts to enter the apartment failed, a sergeant authorized Valencia to kick down the door. Lindsey fired through the door, striking Valencia in the head.

When officers finally entered the apartment after a daylong standoff, they found Lindsey dead from a self-inflicted gunshot wound. He had shot and killed the four children, including two of his own, in their beds.

During Wednesday’s service, Uth said he believes four children met him in heaven and thanked him for trying to rescue them. Uth recalled visiting Valencia in the hospital after he was wounded and seeing his family and squad-mates by the wounded officer’s side.

“Many of you guys were there, and I stood over his body, (praying) that God would just give him life, give him restoratio­n of everything,” Uth said. “And I know I wasn’t the only one, we all prayed for that.”

Valencia received treatment at a rehabilita­tion facility in Atlanta before returning to a Florida facility in Mount Dora. At a retirement ceremony in October where he was awarded a purple heart, his wife said Valencia was showing signs of improvemen­t and responded to her by “rubbing her head and giving her a kiss.”

A month shy of his 30th birthday, Valencia died of his injuries March 15 in Tavares. He is survived by Meghan Valencia and two young sons, Kaleb and Kolton.

Despite Valencia’s death, Uth said evil had not triumphed.

“Today, he is OK. Today, he is home,” Uth said. “Evil did not win. It never does.”

During Wednesday’s service, Meghan Valencia told those gathered that “we shouldn’t be here.”

“We should be sitting on our couch in Lake Mary with our kids playing around,” she said to her husband. “You should be twisting my hair into knots on my head and teaching our kids how to properly annoy me.”

Pastor Shaddy Soliman, the Valencias’ pastor from Lake Mary Church, said he offered to help Kevin Valencia get a job with Lake Mary police but the officer said he preferred to stay at OPD and “be where the action is.”

“This was a mission for him,” Pastor Soliman said. “This is a call on his life.”

Meghan Valencia described her husband as a hero who’d been nominated for many awards in his police career, but could also be goofy. He used to tell her that, when he retired, they would have so much time together to take trips.

“I never thought our life, our love story and our dreams would end so tragically,” she said.

 ?? WILLIE J. ALLEN JR./ORLANDO SENTINEL ?? Law enforcemen­t officers carry the casket of Kevin Valencia during a funeral Wednesday at First Baptist Church of Orlando.
WILLIE J. ALLEN JR./ORLANDO SENTINEL Law enforcemen­t officers carry the casket of Kevin Valencia during a funeral Wednesday at First Baptist Church of Orlando.
 ?? Kevin Valencia ??
Kevin Valencia
 ?? WILLIE J. ALLEN JR./ORLANDO SENTINEL ?? Law enforcemen­t officers from all over the state attended Valencia’s funeral on Wednesday.
WILLIE J. ALLEN JR./ORLANDO SENTINEL Law enforcemen­t officers from all over the state attended Valencia’s funeral on Wednesday.

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