St. Louis Police Officer Killed in the line of duty; St. Louis Post-Dispatch, January 30, 2004 - Jeremy Kohler and Shane Graber

Hundreds attend slain officer's funeral; St. Louis Post-Dispatch, February 4, 2004 - Bill Bryan and Jeremy Kohler

Nick Sloan always wanted to be a cop, just like his dad;  St. Louis Post-Dispatch, February 1, 2004 - Bill Bryan

Slain officer is called hero for his sacrifice;  St. Louis Post-Dispatch, February 4, 2004 - Bill Bryan and Jeremy Kohler

Mourners pack St. Louis' Cathedral Basilica for slain officer's funeral Mass; Associated Press, February 4, 2004

A Shooting in St. Louis;  Source Unknown

Nick;  Source Unknown, February 9, 2004

Officer Sloan Remembered; KSDK, February 2, 2004

Police Officer Sloan, Line of Duty Death;  Source Unknown

Obituary of Nicholas Kevin Sloan;  St. Louis Post-Dispatch, February X, 2004

Funeral Mass for Officer Sloan;  FOX 2 News

Police Officers are a Close Knit Brotherhood;  KSDK, February 4, 2004

Funeral Held for Slain Officer;  KSDK, February 4, 2004

Officer Nicholas Sloan Visitation;  KPLR, February 3, 2004 - Melanie Moon

A suspected drug dealer, apparently bent on escaping from two officers on a neighborhood patrol, shot both Friday afternoon, killing one and then falling dead from return fire, police said.

Officer Nicholas Sloan, 24, shot with his own pistol, became the 154th member of the St. Louis police to die in the line of duty. He was the first to die in a shooting since Chief Joe Mokwa demanded that all personnel wear bulletproof vests on duty.

Mokwa said a slug penetrated the edge of Sloan's vest but missed its protective plates, striking Sloan in the shoulder and veering through his heart. The stricken officer staggered a short distance into the Seven Twenty Five Liquor Mart, at 725 North Taylor Avenue, and collapsed.

Returning fire

Shots hit Sloan's partner, Gabriel Keithley, 26, in the hip, below the vest, and shoulder, above its protection. But Keithley still managed to fire back.

The mortally injured gunman, Dennis E. Hathorn, 31, of Centreville, walked about 200 yards and collapsed between two cars in the 4400 block of Enright Avenue. With him, police said they found Sloan's gun and several rocks of crack cocaine.

"This is an extreme tragedy for the department and for all law-abiding citizens in the city of St. Louis," Mayor Francis Slay said outside Barnes-Jewish Hospital, where Keithley was in surgery and expected to survive. "We are proud of them. We will not forget Officer Sloan, who gave his life for the citizens of St. Louis. We are grieving for you."

Mokwa struggled to keep his composure in publicly announcing the death of Sloan, the father of a 13-month-old child and son of police Sgt. Terry Sloan, a 31-year veteran who commands the vice squad.

Nicholas Sloan and Keithley joined the department in 2001.

In October 2002, Mokwa ordered all city officers to wear bulletproof vests, after a seventh shooting incident involving police in three months. On Friday, he lamented that the policy could not save Sloan.

"You can only wear so much body armor," Mokwa said. "Police officers are mortal. When it's your time to go, nothing can save you."

Sloan and Keithley were in plain clothes, working as part of Operation Weed and Seed, which targets selected neighborhoods with the aim of clearing out drug dealing and nuisance crimes and helping to restore the vitality of communities.

Apparent drug sale

Mokwa said witnesses told of seeing a man who appeared to be dealing drugs from a car to a pedestrian near Taylor and Enright avenues about 12:50 p.m. The apparent buyer walked away, and the officers approached the car.

The chief said detectives were told the man got out and was being frisked when a violent confrontation erupted. He grabbed Sloan's pistol and opened fire, and Keithley shot back.

Patrol cars blocked off side streets for ambulances rushing Sloan and Keithley to Barnes. At least 100 officers, many of high rank and some crying, gathered at the hospital. Police arrived with Sloan's girlfriend and child, and Keithley's wife.

A woman standing just outside the emergency room lobby screamed and slammed her hand against a wall over and over as officers tried to comfort her.

At the shooting scene, scores of heavily armed police searched for what they thought could be more suspects until details of what happened became clearer. Helicopters from TV stations and St. Louis County police hovered overhead.

Kim Norman, director of the Weed and Seed unit, said Sloan and Keithley worked in an aggressive squad that always wanted to do more.

"These two officers have been doing extraordinary work," Norman said.

Other fatalities

Before Friday, the two most recent line-of-duty deaths of city officers involved traffic collisions.

Last spring, Officer James Branson died of complications from surgery to repair his broken ankle, almost a month after his patrol car collided with an SUV while chasing suspects in a stolen car. Branson's partner was critically injured.

Officer Michael Barwick was killed in August 2002 when his patrol car collided with a van while following a stolen car. Two other officers who worked to rescue Barwick and his injured partner from their burning car were injured.

The last city officer shot to death was Robert J. Stanze, killed in 2000 while arresting a suspect in the earlier wounding of a Berkeley officer. Harold R. Richardson is serving a life prison term without parole for murdering Stanze.

Hundreds and hundreds filled the St. Louis Cathedral Basilica on Wednesday to pay their final respects to St. Louis Police officer Nicholas Kevin Sloan.

Sloan, 24, was fatally shot by a suspected drug dealer on Friday.

Police Chief Joe Mokwa told the overflow gathering that Sloan loved participating in sports, "and he had a passion for justice." Mokwa's voice broke at the end of his eulogy.

The Most Reverend Raymond L. Burke, the new archbishop of St. Louis, was the celebrant for the funeral Mass.

"I wish to convey the deepest esteem and gratitude to all police officers. . . I pray for your safety."

"We must all continue to pray for an end to violence in our city, our nation and our world," said Burke, who was installed last week as archbishop.

Burke also asked the gathering to continue to pray for the complete recovery of Officer Gabriel Keithley, who was wounded by Sloan's assailant and managed to return fire and kill the assailant.

Keithley was brought to the funeral by a city ambulance and sat in a wheelchair in the front of the church.

"We're safer now because of officers like Nick. Crime is down but there is always a price to pay for such success."

Sloan's father, Sgt. Terry Sloan, is a longtime member of the St. Louis Police Department. Sloan grew up wanting to follow in his father's footsteps.

"What he wanted more than anything in life, he achieved," Mokwa said. "He always respected and admired his father and wanted to be just like him."

The Rev. Charles Burgoon of St. Gabriel the Archangel, Sloan's home parish in south St. Louis, called him a talented athlete in his youth.

"St. Louis is a different place today," Burgoon said in a homily. "The life of a young police officer has been snuffed out. We realize the sacrifices made by police officers who put their lives on the line for all of us to make our community a safer place. Our hearts are heavy but police officers continue to serve us day in and day out.

Sloan's two older sisters also gave eulogies.

As the procession departed the cathedral about 1 p.m., Calvary Cemetery came alive. Sloan was coming to rest, but a few tasks remained for those preparing his burial.

Certain details must be perfect at police funerals. The 21-gun salute. "Amazing Grace" on the bagpipes. "Taps" on the bugle. No one ever hopes they never have to do these for real. But it ends up being an annual event.

"I'd rather do anything than play an officer's funeral," said St. Louis County police officer Dave Sandbach, a member of the department's bagpipes and drums unit. "That being said, it's an honor to be here."

Nearby, St. Louis police officer Willie Walker instructed seven comrades bearing rifles on finer points of the 21-gun salute.

"Detail!" Walker bellowed. "Take position! Ready! Aim! Fire!" Seven shots. Three times.

Walker nodded. The rifles hadn't been cocked in sync on "ready." But it was crisp.

About 1:20 p.m., the gold hearse bearing Sloan sailed through the cemetery gate, followed by the red fire department ambulance with Keithley.

The young police partners, one wounded, one gone forever, wended through the labyrinth of ancient oaks and ice. They stopped on a hill in nearly the exact center of the cemetery, a spot festooned with red and white carnations, sunflowers and black-eyed susans.

Behind them came limousines bearing Sloan's family and loved ones, Burke, then more than 100 police cars.

The officers stood in the snow and lined up shoulder to shoulder, five deep. The rear of the ambulance opened and Keithley, in uniform and partly reclined in a stretcher, was lowered out and carried to graveside.

The bagpipes played "Going Home." The hearse opened and pallbearers grimly carried the cherrywood casket to the grave.

Sloan was the 154th member of the St. Louis police to die in the line of duty.

The Associated Press contributed information for this story.

Nick Sloan always wanted to be a cop, just like his dad.

"Nick idolized his father; he wanted to follow in his footsteps," said St. Louis police Lt. Col. Roy Joachimstaler, a close friend of Nick's dad, Sgt. Terry Sloan.

"We played softball together a lot over the years, and Nick, even in diapers, would be there watching his dad."

On Friday night at Barnes-Jewish Hospital, where Sloan had been pronounced dead, friends tried to console his parents. Sloan's mother, Chris, remarked that being a police officer was what her son wanted to do, Joachimstaler said.

Nick Sloan was shot to death just before 1 p.m. Friday after he and his partner tried to arrest a suspected drug dealer in the 700 block of North Taylor Avenue. The bullet that killed Sloan caught the edge of his bullet-proof vest near the shoulder, then veered through his heart.

Sloan was 24. He leaves behind a 13-month-old son, Gavin.

Sloan's partner, Gabe Keithley, 26, was also shot and wounded but returned fire and killed the suspect, Dennis E. Hathorn, 31, of Centreville, who collapsed nearly a block away.

Terry Sloan, supervisor of the vice squad, never pushed Nick, his only son, to be a cop, but he didn't object either, Joachimstaler said.

"When Nick graduated from the (police) academy three years ago, Terry was so proud of him, but a lot of us were proud of him too because we had seen him grow up, literally."

Joachimstaler said he was quite impressed with the younger Sloan's work ethic. "He was one heck of a cop. He really enjoyed working with the community. He wasn't afraid to stick his nose into the neighborhood and see what the bad guys were doing."

Sloan and Keithley worked in a unit that specialized in going into specific neighborhoods to try to correct problems like open drug dealing. They were working their regular beat Friday in plain clothes in a neighborhood beset by drug problems and other crimes.

Joachimstaler used words like "quiet," "unassuming" and "strong character" to describe the younger Sloan.

"It's still a hard pill to swallow," he said. "We're not only burying a St. Louis police officer, but we're burying Nick Sloan. There's a person behind that uniform."

Police said Hathorn was wanted for desertion from the Army, and that could have made him anxious about being arrested.

Sloan and Keithley saw a man standing alongside a car, apparently making a drug deal. The officers ordered the motorist out of his car, and he jumped on Sloan and was able to get his pistol out of its holster during a struggle and fire several shots, killing Sloan and wounding Keithley.

Police described Hathorn as a crack cocaine dealer, and said his record showed traffic violations but no arrests for drugs or violent crimes in Missouri. Homicide detectives were waiting to hear if he had a record in Illinois.

Keithley, wounded in the hip and shoulder, was in serious condition Saturday at an undisclosed hospital. But Police Chief Joe Mokwa said he was much improved over Friday evening. "He's in good spirits. He looks good. He's got a good attitude," Mokwa said.

Visitation for Sloan will be from 1 to 9 p.m. Tuesday at Kutis Funeral Home, 2906 Gravois Avenue. On Wednesday, a service for Sloan will be held at 9 a.m. at the funeral home. After the service, participants will go in a procession to the St. Louis Cathedral, 4431 Lindell Boulevard, where a funeral Mass will be celebrated.

In addition to his son and his parents, Sloan is survived by two sisters.

Officer Nicholas Sloan arrived by hearse and Officer Gabriel Keithley by ambulance as the partners were reunited for a last time Wednesday at an emotional funeral Mass at the St. Louis Cathedral Basilica.

"It's up to all of us to keep Nick's memory alive so Gavin can someday understand the magnitude of his father's bravery, kindness, sacrifice and courage," St. Louis Police Chief Joe Mokwa told the standing-room-only gathering.

Gavin, at 13 months too young to comprehend the sadness, sat with his mother, Kirsten Winterer, and other family in front of a sea of mourners.

Sloan, 24, and Keithley, 26, were shot Friday while trying to arrest a suspected drug dealer. Keithley returned fire, killing the attacker.

Hundreds of officers from a wide range of jurisdictions waited more than an hour in freezing weather outside the cathedral to meet the late-arriving gold hearse, amid the somber moan of bagpipes.

The Rev. Raymond L. Burke, the new Roman Catholic archbishop of St. Louis, was the celebrant of the Mass and said he wanted to convey his "deepest esteem and gratitude to all police officers. ... You're keeping St. Louis safe for all of us.

"We must all continue to pray for an end to violence in our city, our nation and our world," he said.

Burke asked the congregation to pray for Keithley's recovery, which led to a standing ovation. Keithley, wounded in the shoulder and hip, arrived in uniform from his hospital bed, with the help of city fire department paramedics.

Sloan's oldest sister, Kelly Brown, 31, spoke to her brother as well as the crowd: "I keep waiting for you to call me on my cell phone and tell me it's just a bad dream and we're not alone.

"I keep hearing your voice saying, 'Kel, don't cry. I don't want to see you so sad.' Well, Nick, when that guy shot you in the heart, it broke mine.

"I love you so much. I promise we will never let Gavin forget the hero his dad is and how much you love him."

Sloan's other sister, Heather Claspill, 27, said, "You've made me a much stronger person. I love you so much and I can't wait to see you again."

The sisters described how Sloan wanted to follow in the footsteps of his dad, Sgt. Terry Sloan, a 31-year veteran of the department.

Claspill brought a moment of laughter when she related a story recalled by her mother, Chris, of a trip to the fabric store when Nick was about 7.

"Dad was in (drug enforcement) at the time, and we were looking at these big bags of stuffing and fiber you put in pillows and Nick said, 'Wouldn't dad love it if those bags were full of cocaine?'

"Two ladies' eyes got real big, and my mother said, 'I can't imagine what they're thinking.'"

Brown told of a time, when Nick was 3 or 4, that he put on his dad's hat and boots.

"People ask me how I can sleep at night knowing my dad and my brother are police officers," she said. "I tell them they love their jobs and this is what they wanted to do."

Said Mokwa, "To Chris and Terry, I thank you for sharing your son with all of us on the police force. Just like Nick was there for us, we'll be there for you, today, tomorrow, next year and the years to come.

"I hope you take some comfort in knowing that Nick's death was not in vain, that he performed his duties and gave his life with honor and respect." Mokwa choked up when he said, "Please accept my deep sympathy, my admiration, my most humble appreciation to serve by your side."

When the service was over, Terry Sloan left with Gavin, asleep, whose head rested on his grandfather's broad right shoulder.

As the procession left the cathedral about 1 p.m., Calvary Cemetery came alive. A few tasks remained for those who intended his burial to be perfect.

"I'd rather do anything than play an officer's funeral," said St. Louis County police Officer Dave Sandbach, a member of the bagpipes and drums unit. "That being said, it's an honor to be here."

Nearby, St. Louis Officer Willie Walker instructed seven comrades bearing rifles on finer points of the 21-gun salute.

"Detail!" Walker bellowed. "Take position! Ready! Aim! Fire!" Seven shots. Three times. Walker nodded. The rifles had not been cocked in sync on "ready," Walker noted. But the rest of the practice was crisp.

About 1:20 p.m., the hearse glided through the cemetery gate, followed by a red fire department ambulance bearing Keithley.

They wended through the gray labyrinth of ancient oaks and ice, stopping on a hill in nearly the exact center of the cemetery, an otherwise forlorn spot festooned with red and white carnations, sunflowers and black-eyed Susans.

Behind them came limousines bearing family and other loved ones, Archbishop Burke, and more than 100 police cars from as far as Arnold, Hillsboro and St. Peters and beyond.

The officers' boots crunched through the snow as they lined up shoulder to shoulder, five deep. Keithley, reclining on a stretcher, was carried to the graveside.

Bagpipes played "Going Home" and then there was just silence.

The hearse opened and pallbearers grimly carried the solid cherry wood casket to the grave.

ST. LOUIS (AP) -- Archbishop Raymond Burke prayed for "an end to violence" as he presided at the funeral Mass attended by hundreds Wednesday for slain St. Louis police officer Nicholas Kevin Sloan.

A standing-room-only crowd packed St. Louis' Cathedral Basilica. Sloan's coffin was carried in by an honor guard of St. Louis police officers as bagpipes played and officers lined the street and sidewalk standing at attention.

"We must all continue to pray for an end to violence in our city, our nation and our world," said Burke, who was installed last week as the new archbishop of St. Louis. "I ask you to pray for all members of the St. Louis Metropolitan Police Department and ask for them to be made safe."

Attending the Mass for Sloan, 24, were his family and friends, hundreds of police officers from St. Louis, St. Louis County and the region, and members of the Missouri Highway Patrol and St. Louis Fire Department. Mayor Francis Slay also was in attendance.

Sloan's injured partner, 26-year-old Gabriel Keithley, was brought to the funeral by ambulance and attended the service in a wheelchair.

Sloan was shot to death Friday during a drug arrest in St. Louis. Keithley was shot in the hip and shoulder. Both officers were wearing civilian clothes and body armor, though bullets fired at them apparently missed the bullet-resistant vests, police had said.

A suspected drug dealer, Dennis E. Hathorn, 31, of Centreville, Ill., grabbed Sloan's pistol during the arrest and shot him fatally. The bullet went through his heart. Keithley also was shot but he was able to fire back at Hathorn, who later died.

Police found Hathorn, who managed to stagger about 200 yards from the scene, with Sloan's pistol and several rocks of crack cocaine.

Francis Hathorn, of East St. Louis, Ill., said she believed her son fought back thinking he was being robbed. "I know he didn't know they were police officers," she said this week.

She said that she never had known her son, who had no prior criminal record, to be involved in drugs. But she said he mentioned before Christmas that he was having trouble paying child support and other expenses.

Both officers joined the department in 2001. They did community policing in the Operation Weed and Seed program, which attempts to rid neighborhoods of drug dealing and nuisance crimes.

"I'm proud because Nick was one of our very best," St. Louis Police Chief Joe Mokwa said in a eulogy. "Nick was a fine officer. Nick was a young man with passion.

"We're safer now because of officers like Nick. Crime is down but there is always a price to pay for such success."

Sloan's father, Sgt. Terry Sloan, is a longtime member of the St. Louis Police Department. Sloan grew up wanting to follow in his father's footsteps.

"What he wanted more than anything in life, he achieved," Mokwa said. "He always respected and admired his father and wanted to be just like him."

The Rev. Charles Burgoon of St. Gabriel the Archangel, Sloan's home parish in south St. Louis, called him a talented athlete in his youth.

"St. Louis is a different place today," Burgoon said in a homily. "The life of a young police officer has been snuffed out. We realize the sacrifices made by police officers who put their lives on the line for all of us to make our community a safer place. Our hearts are heavy but police officers continue to serve us day in and day out.

"We must not forget that Nick Sloan is a disciple of Christ."

Sloan's two sisters, Kelly Brown and Heather Claspill, each gave a short eulogy. Both women had difficulty getting through their remarks.

Sloan leaves behind a 13-month old son, Gavin, and his companion Kirsten Winterer. In addition to them, Sloan is survived by his parents and two sisters.

A private service for the family was held at Kutis Funeral Home prior to the public funeral.

Sloan was the 154th member of the St. Louis police to die in the line of duty.

I have lived in the St. Louis area for many years. I live in the suburbs and feel reasonably safe in the area where I live, but the streets of the city can be very mean sometimes. We hear about shootings all the time and I guess we get used to it to a certain extent. But that does not diminish the horror that is experienced by some people somewhere every time such a thing occurs. I would like to tell you about one such incident that occurred here in St. Louis just last week, four days before this article was written.

Apparently this is what happened. Dennis Eugene Hathorn, 31, of Centreville, Illinois was stopped outside of a liquor store at 12:50 p.m. on Friday, January 30, 2004 near the 4400 block of Enright Avenue in St. Louis by two St. Louis City police officers. They stopped him because they thought they saw him selling drugs from a car in front of the Seven Twenty Five Liquor Mart at 725 North Taylor Avenue. The officers, Nicholas Sloan, 24, and his partner Gabriel Keithley, 26, were in plain clothing but wore dark blue jackets with the word "police" in bright yellow lettering on the front and back, according to police. Also according to the police, Hathorn grabbed Sloan's pistol from its holster and fired as the officers tried to frisk him; the shots struck both officers. Officer Keithley returned fire and Hathorn staggered about 200 yards, collapsed, and died.

Keithley was hospitalized in serious condition with gunshot wounds, but is expected to recover. Officer Sloan died at the scene.

Hathorn worked as a conductor for the Kansas City Southern Railway, and had no criminal record. His mother said that she never knew her only child, Dennis, to be involved with drugs, and wondered if he sold drugs to solve financial trouble. She believes that he fought back because he thought he was being robbed.

But the police, and records obtained by a local newspaper reporter, paint a somewhat different picture. According to those sources, Hathorn had been arrested numerous times on traffic-related matters. On November 13 he failed to appear for a hearing to verify his medical insurance coverage for his youngest child -- it seems that Dennis owed $236 per week in child support for four children, ages 1 to 7, whom he had with three women. He had been in the Army in Fort Knox, Kentucky and was discharged for "other than honorable conditions" rather than face a court-martial. He left Fort Knox to visit his ailing mother in 1996 and never returned voluntarily. His mother said that he served three months in confinement before getting his discharge. And according to police, the military wanted Hathorn for desertion. On January 30, after he had been shot to death by the St. Louis police, the police say they found five large "rocks" of crack cocaine and 19 small ones in a pouch lying next to him; the pouch also contained his identification. The large rocks were "wholesale" size, not yet cut up for single sales.

I attended a Church service this past Sunday not far from the area where the shootings occurred. At least thirty uniformed St. Louis police officers attended it also, although they do not usually attend services at that location. At the end of the service, one officer who identified himself as Officer Sloan's sergeant gave a brief talk. He said that Nicholas Sloan was the son of a career police officer who wanted to follow in his father's footsteps. He said that Sloan could have been assigned to just about any area of the city, but chose the mean streets where he had been working because that is what he wanted. It is a rough district. Sloan left a thirteen-month-old son. When this sergeant described how they would call Sloan's home from the police car and everyone in the car would listen to Sloan converse with his toddler, many people in the church congregation began crying. Eventually, the speaker became distraught and had difficulty continuing; another officer, a woman, went up to the podium to help him. It was a very emotional, very moving experience.

He also noted that Officer Sloan had removed dozens and dozens of weapons from the streets of St. Louis, and apprehended a large number of drug dealers who were no longer selling drugs on the streets of St. Louis.

What do I think about this? It is a horrible tragedy. I admire these officers for showing up at the church service in uniform to honor one of their own. I admire them for taking on a difficult job even though they do not have to do so; it is a job that has to be done, and they know that. They get very little reward or recognition for the difficulty and danger that they face nearly every day.

As for the vermin that is out on the streets causing immeasurable grief for others, I have no sympathy. No sympathy whatsoever. What good does shooting someone do? It is a horrible crime, it ripples out and affects dozens of other people, some of them very seriously for the rest of their lives -- just ask Officer Sloan's son about thirty years from now. Nothing good comes from it. Nothing.

Parents everywhere have an obligation to teach their children a sense of personal responsibility. That is one of the major problems in twenty-first century America -- a lack of personal responsibility. It causes a tremendous amount of problems, grief, and death, but I am afraid that a lack of personal responsibility is here to stay and will continue to be a serious problem until the end of time.

Officer Sloan will be buried tomorrow.

What do you think?

ST. LOUIS POLICE OFFICER NICHOLAS SLOAN, who was buried last Wednesday, represented the very best of St. Louis' finest. Though only 24 years old, he had made more than 400 narcotics arrests in the past three years and had 160 cases pending in St. Louis Circuit Court when he was shot to death Jan. 30.

He was an aggressive, high-speed young officer who nonetheless did things by the book. "Gratefully, but unfortunately, he was following protocols when he was killed," said Police Chief Joseph Mokwa. "This situation just got out of control in a hurry."

Chief Mokwa said a full department investigation was underway, but preliminary indications are that Officer Sloan had followed procedures drilled into him during training and that had served him well on the streets. "The practicality of this job is that it's inherently dangerous," Chief Mokwa said. "You just can't train for every set of circumstances."

Officer Sloan and his partner, Gabriel Keithley, were working in a plainclothes narcotics intervention program when they responded to a complaint that a man was selling drugs out of a black car in the parking lot of a liquor store at Delmar Boulevard and Taylor Avenue. Dressed in jeans and blue police-raid jackets, the young officers walked up to the car. The suspect, Dennis Eugene Hathorn, 31, jumped out of the car and began wrestling with Officer Keithley, who was the first to approach him.

"At that point, the officers had three options," Chief Mokwa explained. "One, let the guy go. Two, try to control him. Three, use deadly force. Using deadly force is sacrosanct to us, the last alternative we use."

Rather than draw his weapon, Officer Sloan jumped into the fray. Hathorn was somehow able to grab Officer Sloan's weapon from his belt holster. The weapon was a standard department-issue double-action 9 mm Beretta semiautomatic. Hathorn shot Officer Keithley below his armored vest and then fatally shot Officer Sloan through a gap in his vest. Though seriously wounded, Officer Keithley pulled his own weapon and killed Hathorn.

Police rules of engagement allow officers to use deadly force only when a suspect is threatening deadly force. Until the split second that Hathorn grabbed Officer Sloan's weapon, that rule didn't apply. By then, it was too late.

The city is patrolled by 1,500 police officers, 350 of whom haven't reached their 25th birthday. They are trained hard and thrown into the fire, gathering more experience in dangerous situations in their first year than many veteran suburban officers ever face. It may be true, as Chief Mokwa says, that confrontations such as the one that killed Officer Sloan are inevitable. But it may also be that different protocols or new nonlethal weapons could help avoid such tragedies in the future. The Police Board should bend every effort to find out. The city can't afford to lose men like Nicholas Sloan.

A single police car stands watch in front of the home where slain St. Louis police officer Nicholas Sloan once lived.

The 24-year-old officer was shot and killed as he and his partner Gabriel Kiethley, 26, tried to arrest a drug suspect in the 700 block of North Taylor.

The suspect grabbed Sloan's service weapon, firing shots that evaded Sloan's body armor. Keithley was also wounded and returned fire, killing the suspect.

"You couldn't ask for a better neighbor," says friend and next door neighbor Mel Kraus.
"When he has a barbecue he'd say Mr. Kraus, if the noise gets too loud let me know, I'll quiet them down. If anytime I can help you concerning police work, let me know first."

At the St. Louis police North Patrol Division, where Sloan was assigned, black bunting hangs over the front door. Officers walk slowly into the division. All are feeling the loss.

Police officer Darren Hanner says Sloan was a dedicated police officer, "It's a time for all to step back and take stock in what's important to them. The job and his family was important to Officer Sloan."

Police Officer Nicholas Sloan
St. Louis Police Department

End of Watch: Friday, January 30th, 2004
Date of Incident: Friday, January 30th, 2004
Age: 24 Years
Tour of Duty: 3 Years
Weapon Used: Officer's handgun
Suspect Info: Dennis E. Hathorn, 31; of Centreville, Illinois was then shot to death by the officer's partner.
img

During a plain clothes weed and seed operation a suspected drug dealer disarmed, shot and killed St. Louis police officer Nicholas Sloan outside a liquor store on Friday, January 30th, 2004 at about 12:50 p.m. The officer’s partner Gabriel Keithley was shot in the hip, shoulder and stomach before fatally shooting the suspect. Police Chief Mokwa said both wore body armor but were hit above and below it. The fatal shot clipped Sloan's bullet resistant vest, he explained.

Witnesses told police the 31 year old suspect appeared to have sold drugs out of a car before the officers approached. The man got out of the car and was arrested but then violently resisted and managed to grab Sloan's gun and fire.

Officer Nicholas Sloan, 24, was the son of Sgt. Terry Sloan, a 31-year department veteran and head of the city's vice squad and is also survived by his 13-month old child and girlfriend.

"This is an extreme tragedy for the department and all law-abiding citizens of the city of St. Louis," Mayor Francis Slay said. "There's not a whole lot you can tell the family of a police officer who has been shot, and one of whom has been killed."

Since he was 2-1/2 years old, Nick always wanted to be a St. Louis Police Officer and be just like his dad. He had a heart of gold that no bullet could ever stop. He lived life to the fullest every day. Nick wanted to make a difference and he did. Everyday in our minds, forever in our hearts. In lieu of flowers, the family requests donations to the Gavin Sloan Trust Fund, c/o Lindell Bank & Trust, P.O. Box 211, 63166.

Funeral from KUTIS Funeral Home, 2906 Gravois Ave., on Wednesday, Feb. 4 at 9:00 a.m. to the Cathedral Basilica of St. Louis (New Cathedral), for 10:00 a.m. Mass. Interment Calvary Cemetery. Visitation Tuesday from 1-9 p.m.

A funeral mass took place on Wednesday at the Cathedral Basilica for St. Louis Police Officer Nick Sloan. He was shot to death in the line of duty last Friday. Hundreds paid their respects to the parents, girlfriend and son of the slain 24-year-old officer. Sloan's partner, officer Gabe Keithley, was shot several times before shooting and killing the suspect. He was released from the hospital on Tuesday, and also went to the visitation. Stay with FOX 2 for live reports on the funeral procession.

The Sloan family is asking in lieu of flowers, donations be sent to a trust fund for Sloan's 13-month-old son, Gavin. You can send those donations to the Gavin Sloan Trust Fund at Lindell Bank and Trust, PO Box 211. St. Louis, MO 63166.

You can also help Nicholas Sloan's girlfriend, Kirsten Winterer, who raises their son, Gavin. You can make your donation at any Bank of America.

Following Wednesday's funeral mass for Officer Nicholas Sloan, he was buried at the Calvary Cemetery in north St. Louis.

Before the funeral mass, Officer Sloan was remembered at a memorial service at Kutis funeral home. It lasted about an hour and as you can imagine it was an emotional experience for those who attended.

Police officers from throughout the region gathered to pay their last respects to a man that many of them didn't even know. But they still called him a brother.

"When you get into the job, and we all wear different uniforms, different patches and we're from different states, but it's all the same. He had loved ones just we all do and it's important to come here to show we support everybody," said Officer Michael Pyburn of Champaign, Illinois.

Officer Sloan will always be remembered as a man who followed in his father's footsteps. And a loving father of a 13-month old son.

The lengthy procession from the south St. Louis funeral home to the midtown Cathedral Basilica gave time for many to reflect on the dangers of being a police officer, as well as reflect on their own lives.

"When the hearse went by, I had my hat off to pay some respect," said Mike Ramsdell, a St. Louis man who watched the procession from the street. "My mother taught us to be respectful."

Sgt. Ron Oldani of the Police Officers Association says on days like this he's reminded of the people he's stood with at other funerals. "You think about the families and what they're going through. I've been through it as a family member. It's a terrible, terrible time."

Officer Nicholas Sloan was the 156th St. Louis police officer to be die in the line of duty.

Family, friends, hundred's of police officers and strangers have gathered Wednesday afternoon to remember fallen St. Louis police officer Nicholas Sloan.

As the bells tolled from the Cathedral Basilica, the life of Nicholas Kevin Sloan, 24, was celebrated Wednesday. New St. Louis Archbishop Raymond Burke led the mass honoring Sloan.

Sloan was shot and killed last Friday as he and his partner, Gabriel Keithley, tried to arrest a drug suspect.

About 10:00 a.m. Wednesday, the funeral procession, led by a gauntlet of police, arrived at the Cathedral Basilica. Officer Keithley arrived earlier, carried in a wheel chair, as fellow officers lined the cathedral steps.

With local dignitaries looking on, the Sloan family, Nicholas' father Terry, a St. Louis police officer himself, his mother Chris, girlfriend Kristin, and their 13-month-old son, Gavin, led the standing-room-only crowd of officers into Sloan's last celebration of mass.

Police from dozens of departments from around the area and around the nation were moved to tears. "There will be a lot tears from many police officers today," said Dellwood Police Chief Dan Chapman. "Officers know this could happen to anyone of them and that's why they all come together."

During the ceremony, speakers said "Nick died the way he lived, with a very good heart, trying to help his community."

Following Wednesday's funeral mass, Officer Sloan was buried at Calvary cemetery in North St. Louis. On the way from the cathedral to the cemetery, the procession passed the North Patrol Division Headquarters. Officer Sloan was an 8th District police officer.

It's been four days since a St. Louis police officer was killed with his own gun during a drug bust.

Officer Nicholas Sloan was killed when a suspect grabbed his gun and opened fire, also wounding his partner.

One by one, police officers, firefighters, family and friends entered Kutis Funeral Home, some waiting in long lines in freezing temperatures.

The 24-year-old, who leaves behind a young child, died Friday while arresting a drug suspect. In an attempt to escape, the suspect grabbed Sloan's pistol shooting him and his partner Gabriel Keithley.

Keithley was shot twice but managed to fire back killing the suspect, and was released from the hospital Tuesday. While his wounds appear to be healing, family members say emotionally he is struggling with the death of his partner.

"He has the best attitude a person can have and he did his job, we want him to take time to get emotional support he needs to get through a process like this," said St. Louis Police Chief Joe Mokwa.

Sloan was a second generation police officer. His father, Sergeant Terry Sloan, is a 31-year-department veteran and head of the city's vice squad. Nick Sloan even carried his father's badge from when he was a patrolman.

"I thinks he's honored his son wanted to grow up in a tradition of his father. What a better attribute could you have a son that was to follow in your footsteps and emulate you," said Chief Mokwa.