Rochester police Officer Manny Ortiz died in the line of duty.
He was killed Saturday evening when the firearm his job required him to carry accidentally discharged as he was driving to work.
Worn in his front waistband, it went off inadvertently, and he bled out.
In spite of the heroic efforts to save him by passersby and responding Monroe County sheriff’s deputies.
That is how this man died, and it is a direct consequence of the decision he made two decades ago to serve the people he loved – his neighbors and brothers and sisters in the city of Rochester. Cops carry guns, off duty and on, because they are always cops. The badge doesn’t turn off at the end of a shift, and the moral and legal duty to act is all day, every day, in every situation and locale.
And so is the need, the requirement, to be armed.
Thus it was duty – the line of duty – which took this officer’s life. And in death he should be memorialized and honored accordingly, and his family should receive the appropriate benefits.
But this is not about his passing. This man deserves to be remembered for his living. What truly matters about the memory of Manny Ortiz is not what is said at a news conference, but what has been said for more than a day as statements of love, respect and appreciation have poured out of the Rochester community.
From the congressman to the man on the corner, the reporter to the mayor, they all knew of him, they all admired him, they all honor him. In whatever their language, whatever their circumstance, whatever their relationship with the law.
Because of how he lived – a life of joy and service. A life dedicated to the protection and uplifting of others.
That’s not only who he was, it’s who his brother and sister officers are, it’s who more of us should be.
He was respected, because he showed respect. He was loved, because he loved. He was followed, because he had integrity. He is remembered, because he was a giant.
And in a day and age when it seems some in society want to war against the police, on the eve of a vote in which the city seeks to empower anti-police activists to end the careers of officers like Manny Ortiz, it is important to remember that this giant stood shoulder to shoulder with men and women of similar virtue and honor.
It has been in all the photos depicting Officer Ortiz with others in uniform. There is a palpable camaraderie, a brotherhood not of the uniform, but of the heart and soul. These are heroes cut from the same cloth. Different names, different backgrounds, different cultures – and one commitment to do the work of good, some would say the work of God. The work of protecting and serving people, on both sides of the law.
Charging – as Officer Ortiz did recently – a woman with a knife, disarming her barehanded, to protect others and her. That’s how he served, that’s how he lived. That’s who his brother and sister officers are.
That’s the holy work this man lived and gave his life for.
And that’s what he must be remembered for.
And that’s what more of us should respect, and strive to replicate.
This man died in the line of duty. But it was a duty given him by not just the city of Rochester or the state of New York, it was a duty given him by God, and hung around his neck at birth.
Because Manny was just a nickname, an appellation of fondness and familiarity.
His given name was Manuel, Spanish to the modern ear, but Hebrew in its origins. It means “God with us.”
And this officer showed how God is most often with us – in the loving ministrations of others. This officer’s life was as much a manifestation of Christian faith as a clerical collar or a saint’s halo.
He wasn’t perfect, but he was good, truly good, because he loved and he put his love into action. There is faith and hope, the Bible says, but love is best of all.
And in this town, love rides in a blue and white.
Officer Manuel Ortiz of the Rochester Police Department demonstrated that through more than 20 years of faithful service.
That is what his life meant, and that is what his memory must inspire.
He has been called back to the God who sent him; he died in the line of duty.
And now others must take up his work, and answer their own call to brotherhood. And we must more faithfully understand and respect those who, like this great man, wear a badge to work.