Deputy’s Devotion Praised

Several thousand mourners filled a Santa Ana church Thursday to honor Orange County Sheriff’s Deputy Steve Edward Parsons, who died last weekend from injuries suffered in a traffic collision.

Outside, hundreds of police motorcycles were parked four abreast and dozens of rows deep in silent tribute on Fairview Street, which was closed between MacArthur Boulevard and Sunflower Avenue during the midmorning service.

Inside, their riders from police agencies throughout Southern California remembered one of their own, the first Sheriff’s Department motorcycle officer to die in the line of duty. Each officer attending was reminded anew of his or her own vulnerability while piloting the two-wheelers.

The 36-year-old Parsons was mortally injured June 19, when a driver traveling 50 miles an hour ran a red light at Moulton Parkway and Laguna Hills Drive in Aliso Viejo, striking Parsons’ motorcycle and throwing him 60 feet through the air.

The 10-year Sheriff’s Department veteran remained in a medically induced coma until Saturday evening, when family members authorized doctors to remove him from life support at Mission Hospital Regional Medical Center in Mission Viejo.

“Steve Parsons had done everything he possibly could,” Orange County Sheriff Mike Carona said Thursday, adding that the father of two small children was “in the wrong place at the wrong time. . . .

“Nobody could have expected entering an intersection 15 seconds after the light had gone green that someone could have run a red light,” Carona said. “Every single day [cops] know something like this can happen. No matter how good they are, how hard they train. Something like this can happen.”

Sylvia Steinhardt, 77, of Laguna Hills has not been charged in the incident, which remains under investigation.

In Thursday’s emotional farewell at Calvary Chapel of Costa Mesa, friends and fellow officers recalled Parsons as a man who could be “goofy” at times, but also someone who was absolutely devoted to his family and a no-nonsense cop with a reputation for writing more than his share of tickets.

“The first time I met Steve Parsons was for a traffic stop, then he writes me a citation,” said Carona, as laughter echoed through the sanctuary.

Deputy Brian Hall explained why other motorcycle officers nicknamed him the “Iceman.”

As the story goes, Parsons was so focused on ticketing traffic offenders that he stopped a Catholic priest who was rushing to pronounce last rites for a parishioner. Instead of issuing a warning, Parsons made the clergyman wait as he wrote a citation.

“He wrote tickets, that’s what he did all day,” Hall said. “Nobody gets a break from Steve.”

The story prompted Calvary Pastor Chuck Smith to joke in the eulogy that Parsons “gave a new meaning to ticket-master.”

Then, drawing from the message of Psalm 23, Smith said that Parsons, like David, “wielded a rod and staff as he was enduring to make that neighborhood [where he patrolled in Laguna Hills] the safest place to drive.”

Parsons’ devotion to his wife, Kathy; daughter, Kelsey, 6; and son, Nathan, 3, was evident in a video shown during the services. Almost every photo showed them together, either at home or on a family outing. The officer rarely worked overtime, friends said, because it took him away from his family.

Gov. Gray Davis, who was in Orange County the day Parsons was injured, called him “a true California hero” in a letter read by Carona. Davis wrote that the officer’s memory must be honored “in a way that does justice to his life.”

In closing remarks to the memorial service, Carona said that “every police officer is a servant of God.”

“When God calls one of his children home, it is not our role to question his decision. But rather to simply ask, ‘Father, what is it you would have us do for his children and family?’ ”

Carona said the highest honor Parsons could possibly earn came from his wife when she said he would be remembered not just as a great cop, but as a great father.

Moments later, Carona escorted Kathy Parsons from the church. They marched slowly behind a piper, who played a funeral dirge and led them and family members between two seemingly endless rows of uniformed officers who saluted the widow and her children as they made their way to a waiting limousine.

The officer was cremated and his ashes were inurned at Pacific View Memorial Park in Newport Beach.