They say you never forget where you were, or what you were doing, when something tramatic happens in your life. April 3, 1997, I remember exactly where I was. I was in Lompoc, CA, at the ball field in staff housing for the prison I worked at. We were practicing for a Law Enforcement tournament coming up in a couple weeks. The sirens at the Penitentiary went off. I look right at Dave Brunk and asked what day it was. He responded, "Thursday." This is not good. See, they test the siren at certain times on Fridays. It wasn't long before we had ambulnaces rolling up to the institution. Staff were responding from the reservation to the USP. That is a day I will never forget. We lost a fellow officer, SORT Brother, husband and father to a senseless act. This is the excerpt from the Officer Down Memorial Page regarding Scott.
Senior Officer Specialist Scott James Williams
United States Department of Justice - Federal Bureau of Prisons
End of Watch: Thursday, April 3, 1997
Tour of Duty: 4 years
Badge Number: Not available
Cause of Death: Stabbed
Date of Incident: Thursday, April 3, 1997
Incident Location: California
Weapon Used: Edged weapon; Shank
Suspect Info: Awaiting trial
Senior Officer Scott Williams was killed after being stabbed by an inmate with a make shift knife. Four other officers who came to Officer Williams' assistance were also stabbed by the same inmate. Officer Williams was pronounced dead at 1855 hours. The incident took place in the US Penitentiary in Lompoc, California.
The suspect was charged with Officer Williams' murder and was awaiting trial as of June 2008.
Senior Officer Williams had served with the Federal Bureau of Prisons for 4 years. He was survived by his wife and two daughters."
The Officer's stood and faced God,
Which must always come to pass.
They hoped their shoes were shining.
Just as brightly as their brass.
"Step forward now, Officers.
How shall I deal with you?
Have you always turned the other cheek?
To My church have you been true?"
The men squared their shoulders and
The Policeman spoke first
"No, Lord, I guess We ain't,
Because those of us who carry badges
can't always be a saint.
We've had to work most Sundays,
and at times our talk was rough,
and sometimes we've been violent,
Because the streets are tough.
The Corrections Officer then added,
But we never took a penny,
That wasn't ours to keep...
Though we worked a lot of overtime
When the bills got just too steep.
And we never passed a cry for help,
Though at times we shook with fear.
And sometimes, God forgive us,
We've wept unmanly tears.
Together they say,
We know We don't deserve a place
Among the people here.
They never wanted us around
Except to calm their fear.
If you've a place for us here, Lord,
It needn't be so grand.
We never expected or had too much,
But if you don't...We'll understand.
There was silence around the throne
Where the saints had often trod.
As the Officers waited quietly,
For the judgment of their God.
"Step forward now, Officers,
You've borne your burdens well.
Come walk a beat on Heaven's streets,
You've done your time in hell."
You are not forgotten Scott.