SALINAS — One by one, family and fellow law enforcement colleagues stood and spoke at a public memorial Thursday for Salinas police officer Jorge David Alvarado Jr., who was shot and killed last month in the line of duty. They spoke of his sense of service, his love of family and the ideals that drove the 30-year-old man.
Roughly 1,000 members of law enforcement from as far away as Boston, Chicago and Dallas sat in a sea of blue to pay respects to Alvarado, who was helping plan his wedding when he was shot and killed on Feb. 25.
His fiancee, Veronica Alvarado, shared some of the funny moments the couple shared, his love of nature and their mutual love of animals. Pausing from time to time to take some deep breaths, she shared that she and Alvarado were high school sweethearts.
“We were inseparable,” she said. “We were each other’s purpose. Now I feel I’ve lost my purpose.”
David Espinoza, an officer with the Dallas Police Department who is from Salinas, looked out over the scores of uniforms Thursday and said he was comforted by what he saw.
“I love the support, seeing all these people come together,” he said.
David Alcazar, an officer with the Chicago Police Department, is part of a group called Brotherhood for the Fallen. These officers collect donations and sometimes spend their own money to travel around the country to memorialize fallen police officers.
“I’ve been to several of these — one in Seattle, one in South Carolina and now this one,” he said. “And honestly, it can become emotionally exhausting with the grief.”
Bagpipes played while military and law enforcement color guards carried the flag-draped casket into the Rabobank Stadium. Alvarado’s family, shrouded in black, followed behind. Before becoming a police officer, Alvarado was a U.S. Army sergeant and a combat veteran, having served in the 101st Airborne Division during Operation Enduring Freedom in Afghanistan.
Carlos Maraver, a retired firefighter with the Carmel Fire Department, and his wife Juana traveled over from the Peninsula to pay respects to Alvarado. The ceremony reminded Maraver about a fellow firefighter who lost his life and was memorialized in a similar way, drawing firefighters as far away as from Minnesota. As Maraver told his story, Juana Maraver scanned the estimated 1,300 people on the arena lawn plus hundreds more in grandstands at the rear of the stadium.
“It’s so moving to see this sea of law enforcement,” she said.
Jorge Ernesto Alvarado, the fallen officer’s brother who is also a Salinas police officer, recalled his little brother’s sense of service. Jorge Ernesto Alvarado is the oldest of the four brothers and described “D-Boy” as a warrior.
“He was a man of service and he died being in service,” Jorge Ernesto Alvarado said. “On Feb. 25, he never retreated from his final battle.”
Salinas Mayor Kimbley Craig cautioned about politicizing Alvarado’s death and lauded the outpouring of sympathy the community has shown, noting that thousands of people have stopped by the police department to pay their respects. She lamented that the night before, sitting in front of her laptop, she struggled to find the words that would comfort the family and the community of Salinas.
“What do you tell a military family? What do you tell a law enforcement family?” she said. “I don’t know what to say except I’m so, so very sorry.”
Alvarado’s boss, Salinas Police Chief Roberto Filice, reflected on the difficult moment for both Salinas police and the broader community.
“JD was a fighter, a warrior and a guardian,” Filice said. “He fought right up to the end. He gave 100% because that’s who JD was.”
Before coming to Salinas, Alvarado served in the Colma Police Department. Cmdr. Sherwin Lum recalled the huge smile that would often be on Alvarado’s face each shift when he came on duty. He shared that Alvarado earned the nickname “Koala,” when a fellow officer texted him for a ride and inadvertently got a text back from Alvarado that featured a koala emoji and a heart.
“That was meant for my love, Veronica,” read Alvarado’s response, Lum said. But it was too late; the nickname stuck with his fellow officers.
“He was a tender-hearted soul,” Lum said. “Jorge was a good one, and it seems God takes the best.”
