Los Angeles Police Dept - Officer killed in the line of duty
End of Watch: Sunday, October 20, 1935
Policeman Owen Yancey was shot and killed by a woman who mistook him for a prowler.
Policeman Yancey had responded to a disturbance call near the home and was searching the area when the occupant fired two rounds through a wall, striking Policeman Yancey.
Policeman Yancey is survived by his wife and two sons.
-----
(Letter dated 05/20/1994)
Dear Sgt. Moreland:
I have had to do a lot of remembering and thinking to write this letter.
My father (Owen D. Yancey) was killed in 1935, I was just about to turn eight years-old. I can remember some things about him.
He was born in Oklahoma at the turn of the century, next to the youngest of about ten children on a small farm near Chandler, in Lincoln County. In the early twenties he and a 'buddy' came to California because there was not much to do in Oklahoma at the time. He was in the L.A. area for several years. He had a sister living in Inglewood. As soon as he made the academy, he sent for his sweetheart, (my mother) she arrived in L.A. by train, picked-up and rushed to Inglewood, pushed in the front door and there was the family, my father and a preacher waiting for her, almost a reverse 'shotgun wedding.'
They settled at 1019 West 65th Place in L.A. and had two kids. I can remember the 1932 Olympics. Dad directed traffic on the south side of the Coliseum. Mom took me to a couple of events. Later, in 1933, we had the earthquake. Dad was waiting for a fellow officer in front of University Station when it hit. He drove home, checked on us, then went back on duty and wasn't seen for a week.
Later, we moved to the 'Outland,' 116th Street and San Pedro. That's where we were living when dad was killed. When we got word of the shooting my mother ended up riding on the back of an L.A. Officer's motorcycle, skirts flying, to the General Hospital, code-three. The Motor Officer (Stambaugh) was our neighbor. He got a day-off without pay for that stunt.
My mother raised two boys on the Police pension. After the medical insurance payment, it amounted to about $98 a month. My brother and I both started working at a very young age. My mother never remarried, I think mainly to keep the pension because of the stories she heard from another officer about police widows who married bums and ended up losing their penions.
My father was tall and good looking, after he died I think I was in shock for quite a while. I just knew I had lost something wonderful. He usually worked nights so i did not get to be with him as much as I wanted. My brother was four years younger and does not remember much about dad.
I have missed him all my life.
I am starting to cry, so I'll say goodbye.
Sincerely,
Owen Yancey, Sr.
P.S. Owen D. Yancey was a loving father and I believe a good husband. I can remember more hugs from my father than my mother. His death left a void in my life that I didn't realize until I had children of my own.
For m
End of Watch: Sunday, October 20, 1935
Policeman Owen Yancey was shot and killed by a woman who mistook him for a prowler.
Policeman Yancey had responded to a disturbance call near the home and was searching the area when the occupant fired two rounds through a wall, striking Policeman Yancey.
Policeman Yancey is survived by his wife and two sons.
-----
(Letter dated 05/20/1994)
Dear Sgt. Moreland:
I have had to do a lot of remembering and thinking to write this letter.
My father (Owen D. Yancey) was killed in 1935, I was just about to turn eight years-old. I can remember some things about him.
He was born in Oklahoma at the turn of the century, next to the youngest of about ten children on a small farm near Chandler, in Lincoln County. In the early twenties he and a 'buddy' came to California because there was not much to do in Oklahoma at the time. He was in the L.A. area for several years. He had a sister living in Inglewood. As soon as he made the academy, he sent for his sweetheart, (my mother) she arrived in L.A. by train, picked-up and rushed to Inglewood, pushed in the front door and there was the family, my father and a preacher waiting for her, almost a reverse 'shotgun wedding.'
They settled at 1019 West 65th Place in L.A. and had two kids. I can remember the 1932 Olympics. Dad directed traffic on the south side of the Coliseum. Mom took me to a couple of events. Later, in 1933, we had the earthquake. Dad was waiting for a fellow officer in front of University Station when it hit. He drove home, checked on us, then went back on duty and wasn't seen for a week.
Later, we moved to the 'Outland,' 116th Street and San Pedro. That's where we were living when dad was killed. When we got word of the shooting my mother ended up riding on the back of an L.A. Officer's motorcycle, skirts flying, to the General Hospital, code-three. The Motor Officer (Stambaugh) was our neighbor. He got a day-off without pay for that stunt.
My mother raised two boys on the Police pension. After the medical insurance payment, it amounted to about $98 a month. My brother and I both started working at a very young age. My mother never remarried, I think mainly to keep the pension because of the stories she heard from another officer about police widows who married bums and ended up losing their penions.
My father was tall and good looking, after he died I think I was in shock for quite a while. I just knew I had lost something wonderful. He usually worked nights so i did not get to be with him as much as I wanted. My brother was four years younger and does not remember much about dad.
I have missed him all my life.
I am starting to cry, so I'll say goodbye.
Sincerely,
Owen Yancey, Sr.
P.S. Owen D. Yancey was a loving father and I believe a good husband. I can remember more hugs from my father than my mother. His death left a void in my life that I didn't realize until I had children of my own.
For m
Los Angeles Police Dept - Officer killed in the line of duty
End of Watch: Sunday, October 20, 1935
Policeman Owen Yancey was shot and killed by a woman who mistook him for a prowler.
Policeman Yancey had responded to a disturbance call near the home and was searching the area when the occupant fired two rounds through a wall, striking Policeman Yancey.
Policeman Yancey is survived by his wife and two sons.
-----
(Letter dated 05/20/1994)
Dear Sgt. Moreland:
I have had to do a lot of remembering and thinking to write this letter.
My father (Owen D. Yancey) was killed in 1935, I was just about to turn eight years-old. I can remember some things about him.
He was born in Oklahoma at the turn of the century, next to the youngest of about ten children on a small farm near Chandler, in Lincoln County. In the early twenties he and a 'buddy' came to California because there was not much to do in Oklahoma at the time. He was in the L.A. area for several years. He had a sister living in Inglewood. As soon as he made the academy, he sent for his sweetheart, (my mother) she arrived in L.A. by train, picked-up and rushed to Inglewood, pushed in the front door and there was the family, my father and a preacher waiting for her, almost a reverse 'shotgun wedding.'
They settled at 1019 West 65th Place in L.A. and had two kids. I can remember the 1932 Olympics. Dad directed traffic on the south side of the Coliseum. Mom took me to a couple of events. Later, in 1933, we had the earthquake. Dad was waiting for a fellow officer in front of University Station when it hit. He drove home, checked on us, then went back on duty and wasn't seen for a week.
Later, we moved to the 'Outland,' 116th Street and San Pedro. That's where we were living when dad was killed. When we got word of the shooting my mother ended up riding on the back of an L.A. Officer's motorcycle, skirts flying, to the General Hospital, code-three. The Motor Officer (Stambaugh) was our neighbor. He got a day-off without pay for that stunt.
My mother raised two boys on the Police pension. After the medical insurance payment, it amounted to about $98 a month. My brother and I both started working at a very young age. My mother never remarried, I think mainly to keep the pension because of the stories she heard from another officer about police widows who married bums and ended up losing their penions.
My father was tall and good looking, after he died I think I was in shock for quite a while. I just knew I had lost something wonderful. He usually worked nights so i did not get to be with him as much as I wanted. My brother was four years younger and does not remember much about dad.
I have missed him all my life.
I am starting to cry, so I'll say goodbye.
Sincerely,
Owen Yancey, Sr.
P.S. Owen D. Yancey was a loving father and I believe a good husband. I can remember more hugs from my father than my mother. His death left a void in my life that I didn't realize until I had children of my own.
For m
End of Watch: Sunday, October 20, 1935
Policeman Owen Yancey was shot and killed by a woman who mistook him for a prowler.
Policeman Yancey had responded to a disturbance call near the home and was searching the area when the occupant fired two rounds through a wall, striking Policeman Yancey.
Policeman Yancey is survived by his wife and two sons.
-----
(Letter dated 05/20/1994)
Dear Sgt. Moreland:
I have had to do a lot of remembering and thinking to write this letter.
My father (Owen D. Yancey) was killed in 1935, I was just about to turn eight years-old. I can remember some things about him.
He was born in Oklahoma at the turn of the century, next to the youngest of about ten children on a small farm near Chandler, in Lincoln County. In the early twenties he and a 'buddy' came to California because there was not much to do in Oklahoma at the time. He was in the L.A. area for several years. He had a sister living in Inglewood. As soon as he made the academy, he sent for his sweetheart, (my mother) she arrived in L.A. by train, picked-up and rushed to Inglewood, pushed in the front door and there was the family, my father and a preacher waiting for her, almost a reverse 'shotgun wedding.'
They settled at 1019 West 65th Place in L.A. and had two kids. I can remember the 1932 Olympics. Dad directed traffic on the south side of the Coliseum. Mom took me to a couple of events. Later, in 1933, we had the earthquake. Dad was waiting for a fellow officer in front of University Station when it hit. He drove home, checked on us, then went back on duty and wasn't seen for a week.
Later, we moved to the 'Outland,' 116th Street and San Pedro. That's where we were living when dad was killed. When we got word of the shooting my mother ended up riding on the back of an L.A. Officer's motorcycle, skirts flying, to the General Hospital, code-three. The Motor Officer (Stambaugh) was our neighbor. He got a day-off without pay for that stunt.
My mother raised two boys on the Police pension. After the medical insurance payment, it amounted to about $98 a month. My brother and I both started working at a very young age. My mother never remarried, I think mainly to keep the pension because of the stories she heard from another officer about police widows who married bums and ended up losing their penions.
My father was tall and good looking, after he died I think I was in shock for quite a while. I just knew I had lost something wonderful. He usually worked nights so i did not get to be with him as much as I wanted. My brother was four years younger and does not remember much about dad.
I have missed him all my life.
I am starting to cry, so I'll say goodbye.
Sincerely,
Owen Yancey, Sr.
P.S. Owen D. Yancey was a loving father and I believe a good husband. I can remember more hugs from my father than my mother. His death left a void in my life that I didn't realize until I had children of my own.
For m
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