Officer Recalled as Dedicated, a Man of Many Interests

As news of the death of Investigator Charles “Chuck” Lazzaretto blared from a radio in the lobby, Glendale officers gathered at the police station Wednesday to remember their towering, quick-witted comrade, the first Glendale officer to die in the line of duty in 25 years.

Several officers broke down as they recalled Lazzaretto--or Laz, as co-workers called him--the 6-foot, 4-inch department comedian who was also an avid reader and embraced hobbies ranging from computers to scuba diving.

“He was the best officer. The best,” Officer Louie Mazadiego said haltingly. “We are all in shock.”

Lazzaretto, 30, the father of two small boys, was shot in a darkened warehouse in Chatsworth late Tuesday while trying to apprehend a man suspected of beating and attempting to kill his girlfriend. The officer had entered the warehouse and was instantly caught in a barrage of gunfire as his partner dived for cover.

Struck in the head, Lazzaretto lay still for nearly two hours as backup officers struggled to get near him but were driven back by more gunfire. Two Los Angeles police officers were wounded in the confrontation, which eventually left the suspect--identified as 28-year-old Israel Chapa Gonzalez--dead, Glendale police said.

Such a calamity is almost unknown in the Glendale Police Department, a close-knit agency of 229 officers. Glendale lost an officer in a motorcycle crash in 1926 and another to a traffic accident in 1972.

But the only other slaying of an officer occurred in 1915, when a local town marshal was killed by a robbery suspect, said Sgt. Rick Young, Glendale police spokesman, adding, “We have a lot of healing to do.”

Lazzaretto, who lived in Valencia, was described as devoted to his two sons, ages 3 and 2, and to his wife, Annamaria, a part-time dispatcher.

He was known as a sharp and dedicated officer who was often commended by judges and prosecutors for his meticulous work. His doggedness, said Glendale Police Chief James E. Anthony, was clear in his pursuit of Gonzalez in the Chatsworth warehouse Tuesday night.

“He worked everything as if it was the big case,” said Officer Roger Johnstone.

While easygoing with others, Lazzaretto was occasionally hard on himself and was so self-effacing that once, when as a young officer his patrol car broke down, he called his sergeant to meekly ask how much he would have to pay to have it towed.

“I thought he was messing with me. I was laughing. I said, ‘You don’t have to pay for a tow truck!’ ” recalled the sergeant, Mel Barnes.

But Lazzaretto also dazzled colleagues with the breadth of his interests outside work: He scuba-dived in Fiji, golfed, flew model planes, played softball, hunted, fished, ran marathons, played soccer with his brothers and was a whiz with computers. “Your typical Mr. Gadget guy,” Johnstone said. “He had a knack for figuring things out.”

Friends and colleagues were often shown Lazzaretto’s new computer tricks and gadgets, said family friend Cameron Thornton. He constantly changed his screen saver on his computer at work. “Welcome to my world,” it proclaimed Wednesday.

Lazzaretto also burned through novels and biographies so quickly his colleagues couldn’t keep track of what he was reading.

“Most of us just read publications that relate to policing,” said Officer Kevin Hirano. “But he was a voracious reader.”

In recent years, Lazzaretto had taken up long-distance running, completing a marathon in Washington recently with his father, former Burbank City Manager Andrew Lazzaretto.

Hirano, who attended the Police Academy with Lazzaretto, said policing came easily to him. “We would all be cramming for a test, and he would go out and watch a movie. Then he would get the highest score in the class.”

“He could have done anything,” said Officer Bob Masucci.

Others described Lazzaretto as “a big teaser,” commonly seen striding through the halls with a wad of bubble gum in his mouth. He jokingly hollered, “Yes, SIR!” in response to even the most casual greeting, a relic from his days in the U.S. Marine Corps Reserve.

And whenever his former patrol partner, Officer Jay Katska, showed up for work, Lazzaretto would greet him with absurd nicknames: “Jay-Jazzy-Jay,” he’d belt out. Katska would tease him because he carried more guns and ammunition than most officers. “Yeah, but who you gonna call if you get in trouble?” Lazzaretto would retort.

“You never saw him frustrated,” said community service officer Cyndi Lindner.

Lazzaretto joined the department 10 years ago, spending two years as a reserve officer before going full time.

An arson investigator for much of his career, he had recently been named to the robbery-homicide unit, a transfer colleagues said he was thrilled about.

Being a police officer was Lazzaretto’s dream since boyhood, said Dominic Lazzaretto, 25, of Glendale, one of the officer’s three younger brothers.

“He was always the law and order brother. I’m not sure why,” he said, adding that Charles was the first in the family to go into law enforcement.

On Wednesday, officers milled around the Police Department lobby, crying and hugging each other, even as they attended to the more mundane duties of Glendale police work.

In a scene that underscored the unreal cast to the day, one officer took a deep breath before fielding a call about tree trimming, calmly explaining regulations on branches and power lines as a co-worker sat at his elbow weeping quietly.

Dominic Lazzaretto said the family never talked to Charles about the dangers of his job. “It was always in the back of everyone’s minds. But we always supported him 100%. He loved his work. He loved doing it.”