Elite unit cop dies of car chase injuries
Published: Chicago Tribune - February 14, 2006
A member of the Chicago Police Department's elite anti-gang unit died Sunday, nearly a month after his squad car went out of control during a chase and smashed into a building.
Eric Solorio, 26, had been hospitalized since the Jan. 17 accident in the city's Englewood neighborhood.
It was the first fatality for the targeted response unit, created in 2003 to go after gangs in the city's most violent neighborhoods.
The unit accepted only the most aggressive and most talented officers from within the force, and Solorio was exactly what the department had in mind, said Cmdr. Edward O'Donnell, who left the unit last week to join the bomb and arson unit.
"You can apply for the unit but a lot of the guys, like Solorio, were [handpicked]," said O'Donnell, who visited the charismatic officer nearly every day for the last month at Christ Medical Center, Oak Lawn. "He was impressive."
Solorio was a passenger in the squad car, O'Donnell said. It is not known what caused the car to go out of control, but road conditions were bad that evening, he said.
Solorio's partner suffered minor injuries and was released from the hospital, O'Donnell said.
The two were patrolling the Englewood neighborhood when a car sped past them. The officers chased it for a few blocks until they reached the 700 block of West Marquette Road, where the squad car spun out of control, smashing into a tree and a building, O'Donnell said.
Solorio suffered spine injuries and was able to move only his shoulders and arms. He was, however, able to speak with the dozens of officers, family members and friends who visited him in Christ Hospital in the days after the accident.
Friends who grew up with Solorio on the Southwest Side say he seemed untouched by the gangs and the violence that surrounded them, that he rarely acknowledged their existence.
Instead of hanging out on the streets, Solorio read, friends said.
Weekdays spent at Quigley Prep High School were followed by weekends in which he took study courses, they said.
There was a constant urgency about Solorio, who since childhood seemed to be searching for a way to help others, friends and family said.
After high school he entered St. Joseph College Seminary at Loyola University but transferred to the school's premed program.
When he announced to friends that he had finally found his calling, to become a police officer, few were surprised.
"He wanted to help people to live better, which is why he wanted to be a doctor, but he couldn't wait, he wanted to do it right away, immediately," said Juan J. Mendez, 29, Solorio's cousin who grew up with him near 43rd and Honore Streets. "He was one of those people that loved the city he lived in and he loved the people."
When he joined the targeted response unit, Solorio immersed himself in his work, again surrounded by, but seemingly untouched by the violence, said Daniel Anaya, 26, a childhood friend who also went to Loyola.
"He gave to the job, but he never let the job take him and he never got jaded," Anaya said. "Unlike most people, everything to him was very apparent and immediate."
Even after his first surgery, Solorio had nurses at Christ Hospital laughing as he blew everyone kisses despite having tubes in his throat and being under sedation, Anaya said.
"He had this spirit and he loved to experience different things," he said. "That's why this job was a good pick for him."
Solorio never ventured far from his family.
When his father died about two years ago, the new officer spent even more time with his mother, urging her to be mindful of her health and spending vacations with her, said Mendez.
"I think he knew that he had come a long way from where we grew up and his parents had worked hard to give him everything," he said. "He tried to do everything for them."
As the young officer turned into a veteran, he continued to educate himself outside of the force, much as he had sought lessons outside of Quigley Prep.
Solorio was still enrolling in international studies courses at Loyola University while he worked the gang beat, friends said.
Before another surgery on Thursday to stop internal bleeding, Solorio told Anaya that he still wanted to be a police officer and in a harsh whisper said, "I don't want to die."
On Monday, word of Solorio's death spread throughout the Police Department.
"One of our own has been taken from us," Supt. Philip Cline said in a printed statement. "The community has lost a friend and protector, and a family has lost a loved one whose character and courage they will continue to love and respect forever."
Solorio is survived by his mother, Amelia; two sisters, Richelle Romo and Rosa Solorio; and a brother, Richard Carrillo.
Visitation will be from 2 to 9 p.m. Tuesday and Wednesday in the Blake Lamb Funeral Home at 5800 W. 63rd St.
A funeral mass will be said at 10 a.m. Thursday in Holy Cross Church, 4541 S. Wood St.
----------
Published: Chicago Tribune - February 14, 2006
A member of the Chicago Police Department's elite anti-gang unit died Sunday, nearly a month after his squad car went out of control during a chase and smashed into a building.
Eric Solorio, 26, had been hospitalized since the Jan. 17 accident in the city's Englewood neighborhood.
It was the first fatality for the targeted response unit, created in 2003 to go after gangs in the city's most violent neighborhoods.
The unit accepted only the most aggressive and most talented officers from within the force, and Solorio was exactly what the department had in mind, said Cmdr. Edward O'Donnell, who left the unit last week to join the bomb and arson unit.
"You can apply for the unit but a lot of the guys, like Solorio, were [handpicked]," said O'Donnell, who visited the charismatic officer nearly every day for the last month at Christ Medical Center, Oak Lawn. "He was impressive."
Solorio was a passenger in the squad car, O'Donnell said. It is not known what caused the car to go out of control, but road conditions were bad that evening, he said.
Solorio's partner suffered minor injuries and was released from the hospital, O'Donnell said.
The two were patrolling the Englewood neighborhood when a car sped past them. The officers chased it for a few blocks until they reached the 700 block of West Marquette Road, where the squad car spun out of control, smashing into a tree and a building, O'Donnell said.
Solorio suffered spine injuries and was able to move only his shoulders and arms. He was, however, able to speak with the dozens of officers, family members and friends who visited him in Christ Hospital in the days after the accident.
Friends who grew up with Solorio on the Southwest Side say he seemed untouched by the gangs and the violence that surrounded them, that he rarely acknowledged their existence.
Instead of hanging out on the streets, Solorio read, friends said.
Weekdays spent at Quigley Prep High School were followed by weekends in which he took study courses, they said.
There was a constant urgency about Solorio, who since childhood seemed to be searching for a way to help others, friends and family said.
After high school he entered St. Joseph College Seminary at Loyola University but transferred to the school's premed program.
When he announced to friends that he had finally found his calling, to become a police officer, few were surprised.
"He wanted to help people to live better, which is why he wanted to be a doctor, but he couldn't wait, he wanted to do it right away, immediately," said Juan J. Mendez, 29, Solorio's cousin who grew up with him near 43rd and Honore Streets. "He was one of those people that loved the city he lived in and he loved the people."
When he joined the targeted response unit, Solorio immersed himself in his work, again surrounded by, but seemingly untouched by the violence, said Daniel Anaya, 26, a childhood friend who also went to Loyola.
"He gave to the job, but he never let the job take him and he never got jaded," Anaya said. "Unlike most people, everything to him was very apparent and immediate."
Even after his first surgery, Solorio had nurses at Christ Hospital laughing as he blew everyone kisses despite having tubes in his throat and being under sedation, Anaya said.
"He had this spirit and he loved to experience different things," he said. "That's why this job was a good pick for him."
Solorio never ventured far from his family.
When his father died about two years ago, the new officer spent even more time with his mother, urging her to be mindful of her health and spending vacations with her, said Mendez.
"I think he knew that he had come a long way from where we grew up and his parents had worked hard to give him everything," he said. "He tried to do everything for them."
As the young officer turned into a veteran, he continued to educate himself outside of the force, much as he had sought lessons outside of Quigley Prep.
Solorio was still enrolling in international studies courses at Loyola University while he worked the gang beat, friends said.
Before another surgery on Thursday to stop internal bleeding, Solorio told Anaya that he still wanted to be a police officer and in a harsh whisper said, "I don't want to die."
On Monday, word of Solorio's death spread throughout the Police Department.
"One of our own has been taken from us," Supt. Philip Cline said in a printed statement. "The community has lost a friend and protector, and a family has lost a loved one whose character and courage they will continue to love and respect forever."
Solorio is survived by his mother, Amelia; two sisters, Richelle Romo and Rosa Solorio; and a brother, Richard Carrillo.
Visitation will be from 2 to 9 p.m. Tuesday and Wednesday in the Blake Lamb Funeral Home at 5800 W. 63rd St.
A funeral mass will be said at 10 a.m. Thursday in Holy Cross Church, 4541 S. Wood St.
----------
Elite unit cop dies of car chase injuries
Published: Chicago Tribune - February 14, 2006
A member of the Chicago Police Department's elite anti-gang unit died Sunday, nearly a month after his squad car went out of control during a chase and smashed into a building.
Eric Solorio, 26, had been hospitalized since the Jan. 17 accident in the city's Englewood neighborhood.
It was the first fatality for the targeted response unit, created in 2003 to go after gangs in the city's most violent neighborhoods.
The unit accepted only the most aggressive and most talented officers from within the force, and Solorio was exactly what the department had in mind, said Cmdr. Edward O'Donnell, who left the unit last week to join the bomb and arson unit.
"You can apply for the unit but a lot of the guys, like Solorio, were [handpicked]," said O'Donnell, who visited the charismatic officer nearly every day for the last month at Christ Medical Center, Oak Lawn. "He was impressive."
Solorio was a passenger in the squad car, O'Donnell said. It is not known what caused the car to go out of control, but road conditions were bad that evening, he said.
Solorio's partner suffered minor injuries and was released from the hospital, O'Donnell said.
The two were patrolling the Englewood neighborhood when a car sped past them. The officers chased it for a few blocks until they reached the 700 block of West Marquette Road, where the squad car spun out of control, smashing into a tree and a building, O'Donnell said.
Solorio suffered spine injuries and was able to move only his shoulders and arms. He was, however, able to speak with the dozens of officers, family members and friends who visited him in Christ Hospital in the days after the accident.
Friends who grew up with Solorio on the Southwest Side say he seemed untouched by the gangs and the violence that surrounded them, that he rarely acknowledged their existence.
Instead of hanging out on the streets, Solorio read, friends said.
Weekdays spent at Quigley Prep High School were followed by weekends in which he took study courses, they said.
There was a constant urgency about Solorio, who since childhood seemed to be searching for a way to help others, friends and family said.
After high school he entered St. Joseph College Seminary at Loyola University but transferred to the school's premed program.
When he announced to friends that he had finally found his calling, to become a police officer, few were surprised.
"He wanted to help people to live better, which is why he wanted to be a doctor, but he couldn't wait, he wanted to do it right away, immediately," said Juan J. Mendez, 29, Solorio's cousin who grew up with him near 43rd and Honore Streets. "He was one of those people that loved the city he lived in and he loved the people."
When he joined the targeted response unit, Solorio immersed himself in his work, again surrounded by, but seemingly untouched by the violence, said Daniel Anaya, 26, a childhood friend who also went to Loyola.
"He gave to the job, but he never let the job take him and he never got jaded," Anaya said. "Unlike most people, everything to him was very apparent and immediate."
Even after his first surgery, Solorio had nurses at Christ Hospital laughing as he blew everyone kisses despite having tubes in his throat and being under sedation, Anaya said.
"He had this spirit and he loved to experience different things," he said. "That's why this job was a good pick for him."
Solorio never ventured far from his family.
When his father died about two years ago, the new officer spent even more time with his mother, urging her to be mindful of her health and spending vacations with her, said Mendez.
"I think he knew that he had come a long way from where we grew up and his parents had worked hard to give him everything," he said. "He tried to do everything for them."
As the young officer turned into a veteran, he continued to educate himself outside of the force, much as he had sought lessons outside of Quigley Prep.
Solorio was still enrolling in international studies courses at Loyola University while he worked the gang beat, friends said.
Before another surgery on Thursday to stop internal bleeding, Solorio told Anaya that he still wanted to be a police officer and in a harsh whisper said, "I don't want to die."
On Monday, word of Solorio's death spread throughout the Police Department.
"One of our own has been taken from us," Supt. Philip Cline said in a printed statement. "The community has lost a friend and protector, and a family has lost a loved one whose character and courage they will continue to love and respect forever."
Solorio is survived by his mother, Amelia; two sisters, Richelle Romo and Rosa Solorio; and a brother, Richard Carrillo.
Visitation will be from 2 to 9 p.m. Tuesday and Wednesday in the Blake Lamb Funeral Home at 5800 W. 63rd St.
A funeral mass will be said at 10 a.m. Thursday in Holy Cross Church, 4541 S. Wood St.
----------
Published: Chicago Tribune - February 14, 2006
A member of the Chicago Police Department's elite anti-gang unit died Sunday, nearly a month after his squad car went out of control during a chase and smashed into a building.
Eric Solorio, 26, had been hospitalized since the Jan. 17 accident in the city's Englewood neighborhood.
It was the first fatality for the targeted response unit, created in 2003 to go after gangs in the city's most violent neighborhoods.
The unit accepted only the most aggressive and most talented officers from within the force, and Solorio was exactly what the department had in mind, said Cmdr. Edward O'Donnell, who left the unit last week to join the bomb and arson unit.
"You can apply for the unit but a lot of the guys, like Solorio, were [handpicked]," said O'Donnell, who visited the charismatic officer nearly every day for the last month at Christ Medical Center, Oak Lawn. "He was impressive."
Solorio was a passenger in the squad car, O'Donnell said. It is not known what caused the car to go out of control, but road conditions were bad that evening, he said.
Solorio's partner suffered minor injuries and was released from the hospital, O'Donnell said.
The two were patrolling the Englewood neighborhood when a car sped past them. The officers chased it for a few blocks until they reached the 700 block of West Marquette Road, where the squad car spun out of control, smashing into a tree and a building, O'Donnell said.
Solorio suffered spine injuries and was able to move only his shoulders and arms. He was, however, able to speak with the dozens of officers, family members and friends who visited him in Christ Hospital in the days after the accident.
Friends who grew up with Solorio on the Southwest Side say he seemed untouched by the gangs and the violence that surrounded them, that he rarely acknowledged their existence.
Instead of hanging out on the streets, Solorio read, friends said.
Weekdays spent at Quigley Prep High School were followed by weekends in which he took study courses, they said.
There was a constant urgency about Solorio, who since childhood seemed to be searching for a way to help others, friends and family said.
After high school he entered St. Joseph College Seminary at Loyola University but transferred to the school's premed program.
When he announced to friends that he had finally found his calling, to become a police officer, few were surprised.
"He wanted to help people to live better, which is why he wanted to be a doctor, but he couldn't wait, he wanted to do it right away, immediately," said Juan J. Mendez, 29, Solorio's cousin who grew up with him near 43rd and Honore Streets. "He was one of those people that loved the city he lived in and he loved the people."
When he joined the targeted response unit, Solorio immersed himself in his work, again surrounded by, but seemingly untouched by the violence, said Daniel Anaya, 26, a childhood friend who also went to Loyola.
"He gave to the job, but he never let the job take him and he never got jaded," Anaya said. "Unlike most people, everything to him was very apparent and immediate."
Even after his first surgery, Solorio had nurses at Christ Hospital laughing as he blew everyone kisses despite having tubes in his throat and being under sedation, Anaya said.
"He had this spirit and he loved to experience different things," he said. "That's why this job was a good pick for him."
Solorio never ventured far from his family.
When his father died about two years ago, the new officer spent even more time with his mother, urging her to be mindful of her health and spending vacations with her, said Mendez.
"I think he knew that he had come a long way from where we grew up and his parents had worked hard to give him everything," he said. "He tried to do everything for them."
As the young officer turned into a veteran, he continued to educate himself outside of the force, much as he had sought lessons outside of Quigley Prep.
Solorio was still enrolling in international studies courses at Loyola University while he worked the gang beat, friends said.
Before another surgery on Thursday to stop internal bleeding, Solorio told Anaya that he still wanted to be a police officer and in a harsh whisper said, "I don't want to die."
On Monday, word of Solorio's death spread throughout the Police Department.
"One of our own has been taken from us," Supt. Philip Cline said in a printed statement. "The community has lost a friend and protector, and a family has lost a loved one whose character and courage they will continue to love and respect forever."
Solorio is survived by his mother, Amelia; two sisters, Richelle Romo and Rosa Solorio; and a brother, Richard Carrillo.
Visitation will be from 2 to 9 p.m. Tuesday and Wednesday in the Blake Lamb Funeral Home at 5800 W. 63rd St.
A funeral mass will be said at 10 a.m. Thursday in Holy Cross Church, 4541 S. Wood St.
----------
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