Anchorage Police Chief Kevin O'Leary gently slid his white-gloved hand from under hers and then stood to salute the widow of police officer Dan Seely.
A single teardrop slid off Deborah Seely's cheek and landed on the neatly folded flag O'Leary had just given her at the Thursday services in the Price City Cemetery.The flag had draped the bluish-gray casket of Anchorage police officer and native Utahn throughout four memorial services in two states. It symbolizes his service to the residents of Anchorage - the residents he died protecting Oct. 26.
Seely was shot and killed by Paul Ely Jr., whom he was attempting to serve with a $1,000 arrest warrant for failing to appear for a court hearing.
After shooting Seely in the face, Ely ran to a neighbor's house where his estranged wife, Christina, and two children had sought refuge.
He shot his 5-year-old daughter in the head as her mother tried to pull her up the steps of the house. The bullet passed through Jessica Ely's head and hit her mother in the stomach. Paul Ely then shot his 4-year-old son, Corey, in the head as the boy sat on a neighbor's lap. Then Paul Ely put the gun to his own head and killed himself.
Corey, Jessica and Paul Ely were pronounced dead at the scene. Christina Ely was taken to Providence Hospital in serious condition.
Seely was taken to the same hospital, where his wife, who is a police dispatcher, met his ambulance. He died about an hour after being shot.
Seely was born in Colorado and reared in the small central Utah town of Green River. It was there his family and co-workers remembered the man and his life for the last time.
Seely was characterized by co-workers and loved ones as a compassionate and moral person.
"If there was a penny on the floor, he'd say, `Oh, my gosh. I have to write a found property report,' " said fellow Anchorage police office Bernard Segal. "Everything about him was moral."
Segal introduced Seely to his future bride in the weight room of the Anchorage Police Department.
"He loved Deborah more than anything on this Earth," Segal said, his voice cracking. Seely was a workaholic dedicated to the job he'd waited a lifetime to do.
"Those who knew Dan would say, `Dan, get a life,' " Segal said. "Well, Dan got a life."
Seely and his wife would have celebrated their first wedding anniversary Monday. Their first child is expected in the spring.
Seely's cousin, Joe Stott, remembered the 40-year-old BYU graduate and former LDS missionary as the product of a long line of moral and courageous men. Stott also read thoughts from Seely's two sisters, brother and some nieces and nephews.
"Dan was the first person I talked to," his brother wrote. "I said, `Let go of my hand.' And 23 years later he did."
"For only getting one brother in this life I was blessed enough to get the very best."
"We live in a rotten, stinking world sometimes," said LDS Bishop Royd Hatt. "I have struggled to make sense of such an incident. But there is no sense to be made of it."
Deborah Seely was flanked by her mother and Dan's mother during Thursday's grave dedication. She sat stoically through most of the short ceremony. But when an officer played "Taps," she put a Kleenex over her face and wept.
A trust account for Deborah and Dan Seely's unborn child has been established through the Anchorage Police Department. In addition to the eight Anchorage city police officers, law enforcement representatives from Midvale, Price, Emery and Carbon counties, Alaska state police, U.S. Secret Service, Utah State Parks and the Utah Highway Patrol participated in the memorial service and burial.