Stronger Together
Children of the fallen fi nd resilience in their Garden State C.O.P.S. Family
■ STORY AND PHOTOS BY AMBER RAMUNDO
Almost every sense of emotion is palpable on the bus full of sur-
vivors – from the boisterous leaders who have attended the Garden
State Concerns of Police Survivors (C.O.P.S.) trip to the National
Law Enforcement Officers Memorial year after year to the solemn
families who gaze quietly out the window while considering what
it will be like to visit the memorial for the first time. But no matter
the emotion that they’re feeling or the tragedy that has led them to
take a seat on board, some of these family members share support
that has helped them grow up. They have been survivors for most
of their lives.
Along the five-hour journey to the National Law Enforcement
Officers Memorial in Washington D.C., the DiNardo family sets up
camp in the back of the bus. They play games, pass around snacks
and share inside jokes with friends who remind them that they’re
not alone. For the three siblings who lost their father, Marc Antho-
ny DiNardo, all before age 5, the C.O.P.S. memorial trip not only
brings them closer to their hero, but also to the other survivor chil-
dren who lost a parent at such a young age and have become a sup-
port system.
“They have the same feelings as us. They know what we’re go-
ing through,” states 12-year-old Gwendolyn DiNardo, about the
friends she’s made after years of attending the C.O.P.S. bus trip. “We
can all relate to each other in some way about what’s happened to
our families. We’re connected.”
Gwendolyn was 4 years old when her dad, a Jersey City Police
Department detective, was shot in the line of duty. She’s the big
sister to Marc and Ella, who were 3 and 1 at the time. Mary DiNar-
do has taken her kids to the memorial every year since the 2009
tragedy that made her a single mom of three. As the years have
passed and her kids have gotten older, she’s watched them develop
an understanding of what the trip means and what the memorial
symbolizes.
“The emotions have changed,” Mary explains. “Now, when we’re
at the Candlelight Vigil (during National Police Week), they’re cry-
ing. They’re listening to the speeches and they’re asking questions.
It’s interesting to see the change.”
By the time the bus pulls onto East Street in Washington D.C.,
the commotion in the back goes quiet as the survivors recognize
the landmark that tells them that they’ve arrived. Once gathered
at the memorial, each child stands close to his or her loved one.
Some speak and tell stories about their fallen officers. Others stand
in silence, still shocked by the sight of the name on the walls that
line both sides of the memorial.
When the DiNardos gather here, they send a message to their
dad. Each year, they carefully find a space on the memorial to leave
a handwritten letter taped to the cement.
“I’m so happy to be writing to you,” reads Ella’s note, scribbled
in purple marker under a photo of Marc DiNardo. “Every wish I
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NEW JERSEY COPS
■ MAY 2018
The DiNardo family, from left,
Mary, Marc, Gwendolyn and Ella,
have visited Marc Anthony DiNar-
do’s name on the memorial each
year since his passing in 2009.
The DiNardo children write messag-
es to their heroic father who was
killed in the line of duty.
From left, Lisa, Gracie and Julia Preslar make a tracing of William “Nichie”
Preslar’s name on the National Law Enforcement Offi cers Memorial, as they
do each year that they participate in the Garden State C.O.P.S. memorial bus
trip.
make is of you coming to life again! I love you.”
“Dear Dad, I miss you and I have very little space to write but ev-
erything’s fine,” writes Marc, the young man of the DiNardo house-
hold.
When Gwendolyn writes to her dad, she updates him on the
honor mission she has undertaken to share her dad’s legacy. Eight
years after her dad passed away, Gwendolyn carries boundless
courage and compassion as she travels to schools in Jersey City