Magic Bus
Get on board with the Garden State C.O.P.S. bus trip to the National
Law Enforcement Offi cers Memorial and see how this State PBA-sponsored
adventure charms the lives of survivors of offi cers lost in the line of duty
■ BY MITCHELL KRUGEL
■ PHOTOS BY AMBER RAMUNDO
Gaze long enough at the name on the wall, and the hand of
the loved one will almost burst through the granite. Something
magical like that seems to be happening to survivors of offi-
cers lost in the line of duty on this majestic Saturday afternoon,
when they have come with their Garden State Concern of Police
Survivor (C.O.P.S.) family to visit their loved ones at the National
Law Enforcement Officers Memorial (NLEOM) in Washington
D.C.
More than 80 wives, sons, daughters, brothers, sisters, moms,
dads, nieces, nephews and grandchildren have made this an-
nual pilgrimage through the support of the New Jersey State
PBA that provides buses, a family dinner and an experience
that can only be found at Wonderland, Oz or maybe the Sistine
Chapel. The 2018 C.O.P.S. bus trip to the memorial endows an
afternoon for survivors to commune with their officers in a
setting of peace and tranquility, and the remembrance washes
over Jennie Ciuppa.
At 95 years old, she left her apartment around 5 a.m. on April
14. A few helping hands, especially those from her son John, the
new Garden State C.O.P.S. president, have put Jennie right in
front of the wall where the name of her husband, Garfield Of-
ficer Ignazio Ciuppa, is inscribed. Sixty-four years ago, Ignazio
was lost to injuries sustained in a motorcycle accident, and Jen-
nie doesn’t need her glasses to focus on what she sees in that
name, what she has come for.
“That he will get out of there, walk right up to me and say,
‘Hello,’” Jennie wishes.
The bus trip serves as an annual reunion. A buffet is packed
into the front seats of each of the two buses. Cell phones are
passed as photo albums. Stories are shared about how wives,
sons, daughters, brothers, sisters, moms, dads, nieces, nephews
and grandchildren have flourished in the aftermath of all these
line of duty deaths through the relentless care and compassion
of the glorious C.O.P.S. organization.
Once the four-hour anticipation has brought them to the me-
morial, though, nary a word is spoken. Or needs to be. Survivors
spread out around the park lined on either side with names on
the memorial walls that stretch a block long each. Some like
Jeanne and Robin Strone, who lost their father, Passaic Patrol-
Jennie Ciuppa holds up an etching of the name of her husband, Garfi eld
Offi cer Iganazio Ciuppa, with her son Garden State C.O.P.S. President John
Ciuppa and his girlfriend.
man Robert Strone, 60 years ago, have come for the first time.
Some are here every year, like Patty Goodell, who lost her son,
Waldwick Officer Chris Goodell, in 2014, and comes on behalf
of the “Mothers of Police Officers” support group she is a mem-
ber of to pray for their sons and daughters.
“And to see Chris’s name again,” Patty confides. “To be here
is just like a connection to him, more so than anywhere else.”
The connections usually come with a feeling or a sign of the
officer’s presence. And a few hours on a spring Saturday when
the Garden State survivors have the memorial basically all to
themselves affords enough time to recognize the calling and
to respond, and the time and serenity that wouldn’t be there
amidst the bustle of National Police Week, when the world
comes to the NLEOM each May.
The one-day excursion is a chance to leave flowers, artwork
and a poster with a message asking daddy when he will be com-
ing home or wishing a sister a happy birthday. When the buses
unload, the afternoon at first becomes a revival of sorts. But it’s
not overstating to observe that, even for a few moments, survi-
vors feel like they are at heaven’s doorstep.
“Getting on the bus and coming down here with the survi-
CONTINUED ON PAGE 38
www.njcopsmagazine.com
■ MAY 2018 37