FORT BRAGG, CA — Ten years ago, on March 19, 2014, Mendocino County Deputy Sheriff Ricky Del Fiorentino, a 26-year law enforcement veteran, died in the line of duty on a dirt side road behind the Cleone grocery store on Highway 1 north of Fort Bragg. The Mendocino County Sheriff’s Office annually holds an in-house luncheon in Del Fiorentino’s honor.
Every year, except for a time given to a failing parent, Beth Del Fiorentino and her daughter Lexie make the journey from Oregon to Fort Bragg to attend the luncheon and visit the place where her husband and Lexie’s father died. They lay down roses and then walk along MacKerricher’s beach, something the three of them used to do a few times weekly.
Del Fiorentino’s death resulted from one man’s crime spree that day, which began in Eugene, Oregon. Ricardo Antonio Chaney fled from Eugene after he shot and killed anthropology professor and family friend George Bundy Wasson in his home, which Chaney then set on fire.
Intent on avoiding arrest, Chaney carjacked a BMW, forced the young occupants into the trunk, and headed south. Using the car’s trunk release latch from the inside, the two young people soon escaped at an intersection.
Chaney’s third action occurred in Mendocino County near Leggett at the Confusion Hill tourist site on US 101. His encounter with the store’s owner, John Mills, resulted in shots fired by both men before Chaney drove off heading south. Mills’ call to the Sheriff’s Office brought armed law enforcement from many agencies out for a search.
Chaney was spotted but evaded officers when he diverted at high speed off the freeway onto Highway 1, leading west to the coast north of Fort Bragg. Deputy Sheriff Ricky Del Fiorentino routinely patrolled the Mendocino coast, but the sheriff’s office assumed he had first headed to Leggett.
Lt. Sheriff Clint Wyant usually patrolled the North sector of the county but had a planned trip to the county jail in Ukiah to deliver a previously arrested person. Del Fiorentino, who had made the arrest, met Wyant halfway to Ukiah on S.R.20 to turn over his arrested passenger for the final leg of the trip to the jail.
Two hours later, law enforcement was searching Highway 1 and all sideroads. Del Fiorentino was the first to come upon the unoccupied, stolen vehicle on a dirt lane behind the Cleone grocery store. As far as could be determined, Del Fiorentino was ambushed and killed before he could exit his patrol car.
Patrolling nearby, Fort Bragg Police Lt. John Naulty heard gunshots and drove directly to the location. He found Chaney rifling through Del Fiorentino’s patrol car. Shots were exchanged, and Chaney died. Wyant then heard Naulty’s radioed call of “1199”, meaning “Officer Down.”
Wyant, along with about 100 other officers, sped to the scene. His close friend had died in the patrol car, but Wyant had to make two mental adjustments. He assumed his role as a SWAT team member and began the work of securing the scene by searching for other possible suspects and protecting any evidence of the crime at the scene.
County Sheriff Tom Allman bore the burden of informing Del Fiorentino’s next of kin. In her role as Co-Coach of the Girls’ High School Cheerleading team, Beth Del Fiorentino recalled that she was waiting on Main Street in Fort Bragg to pick up trophies for a Fort Bragg High School awards night.
“I saw all the vehicles driving past,” she said, “and I couldn’t get ahold of Ricky.” She went home and later opened her door to the County Sheriff, who gave her news of something rare in the county sheriff’s department history– death in the line of duty.
Tim Del Fiorentino, who was 19 years old when his father died and is now a sergeant in the Mendocino County Sheriff’s Office, said that from that devastating moment through all the days prior to the memorial service, the Sheriff’s Office never left the family alone. An officer was always available to secure any need, and the generous community kept them supplied with food.
The memorial service held a week later at the Cotton Auditorium in Fort Bragg, brought hundreds of law enforcement officers from nearby, within the state, within the country, and outside the country. Community members thronged the streets during the motorcade procession.
The crowds were so massive that outdoor tents housed television monitors so those unable to sit in the auditorium could view the service. Inside, even side hallways were full of mourners.
The word most people used that day to describe the memorial service is “overwhelming.” Beth Del Fiorentino does not recall much of that day, let alone what she said during the service. Tim Del Fiorentino spoke to thank everyone for coming. Afterward, besieged by the media, Beth elected to go home.
Ten years later, she commented, “It definitely never gets easier. Ricky was my best friend. It was an immensely hard loss.” She lives now in La Pine, Oregon, south of Bend, where Ricky had wanted to retire. She and her daughter Lexie, now 16, left Fort Bragg in June 2015, although they had no social connections in Oregon to greet them.
Although she was only six years old when her father died, Beth describes Lexie’s memories of her father as “very vivid.” She added that Lexie viewed him as “her best friend” and that “we talk about him often.”
Lexie’s favorite memories are of weekly walks at MacKerricher Beach with her parents and family camping trips to Hat Creek. “I miss having him around to do the things we used to do together,” she said. “He made a lot of time to spend with us.”
Beth, who responded to the question about Del Fiorentino’s commitment to his job, supports Lexie’s comments. “100% to job and family,” she said. Yet other people also stressed how much time he gave to community sports activities.
Over the years, he coached his children’s sports teams, became the wrestling coach for Fort Bragg High School, and revived the Police Athletics League (PAL) sponsored by the county’s police and sheriff’s units. Youth projects, including an annual fishing camp, became Del Fiorentino’s hallmark as president of PAL.
Ask anyone who knew Del Fiorentino well about what they remember of him, and grief just beneath the surface wells up as fresh as it was ten years ago. Independent descriptions of Del Fiorentino’s characteristics and personality are remarkably similar.
Julie Whipple, a technician at the Mendocino County Sheriff’s Office, recalls a man with a blended family who “treated everybody like his own.” She added, “He was all heart. Anybody needed help, he was there to help them.” Whipple had long been a co-worker with Del Fiorentino and remembers a man who was “very involved in the community” who had also revived PAL.
What Whipple recalled most about Del Fiorentino was his laugh, and she added, “I never talked to anyone who didn’t like him. Even the people he arrested would do anything he asked.” Whipple is still stunned by the number of people who came to the memorial service.
Sgt. Tim Del Fiorentino also stated that he has never heard a negative story about this father. “I am always approached in public when people recognize my last name,” said Fiorentino. “They always tell me a story about him.”
He remembers a father with an “infectious belly laugh” who was “very committed to his job and his family and was respected in the community.” Del Fiorentino recalls a father “very involved in our lives who loved outdoor sports. He held his kids to a high moral standard,” said Del Fiorentino, “and wanted us to be successful.”
Del Fiorentino credits former County Sheriff Tom Allman with the personal care the family received after his father’s death and honors him for the efforts Allman made to help a kid partly raised in a sheriff’s office earn his own place there.
Sheriff’s Lt. Clint Wyant was a close friend of Del Fiorentino, a relationship forged during the long manhunt for Aaron Bassler in 2011. “We worked hand-in-hand together for years,” said Wyant. “Then there were shifts together of fifteen hours for thirty days straight during the search for Bassler.”
Wyant said about his friend and co-worker, “He was a larger-than-life kind of guy. I can honestly say that I never saw Ricky in a bad mood or ever a time when he didn’t have a smile on his face. He was a very happy, positive guy. ” He added, “It was a privilege to know him.”
Wyant also recalled Del Fiorentino’s “very distinct laugh” and stressed, “He was a genuine guy; he wasn’t fake. He would give you the shirt off his back and the last five dollars in his wallet if you needed it.”
Wyant said he thinks about the service call from Confusion Hill every day. He said, “His legacy still lives on. There are still Ricky stories even ten years later. I feel bad for the younger generation who never knew Ricky.” He added, “If you had the pleasure of knowing him, he touched everybody’s lives.”
Wyant supervised Tim Del Fiorentino when he was hired at the sheriff’s department. He remembered watching the young man grow up over the years. “I still re-live some memories through his son,” he said. “There are so many things about Tim that remind me of his dad.”
He continued, “His laugh, the way he walks–there are so many characteristics. Working with his son, seeing that he’s following his dad’s footsteps, and seeing him all the time almost makes it seem that Ricky is still here.”
Beth Fiorentino said, “There wasn’t anything not to love about him, his laugh and his smile and his huge heart.” She then described the national support group, Concerns of Police Survivors (C.O.P.S.), that still helps her deal with her loss. “They’re an amazing organization,” she said. In her world, ten years ago often does feel like yesterday.
