A closer look

Greg Risling

Not many people know where Patty Henry went, but they have never

forgotten her.

Shielded from the public by a tightly woven blue curtain, she was

shrouded in sadness over the death of her husband, Newport Beach Police

Officer Bob Henry.

Five years ago, Patty watched her husband linger in a coma. He succumbed

to complications from a gunshot wound he received when a suicidal father

shot Henry and then killed himself. Henry clung to life for 33 days.

The shooting stunned the city where murder is a foreign word and losing a

police officer is a travesty. The community rallied around the Henry

family although Patty, a mourning widow, was secluded in privacy with her

three children.

Patty has emerged from the sadness a new woman. She has since remarried,

had another child and happily lives in South County. She has climbed to a

peak that looked impossible to reach after trekking through a valley,

which seemed endless.

“I’m in a great place,” said Patty in her first interview since her

former husband’s death. “I’m in love, have a wonderful family and

extremely happy. I’m so grateful to the people who still think about us.

It’s five years later and I still feel their support.”

A bright future ends

As husband and wife, Patty and Bob planned for a bright future. They had

three children together, Bobby now 11; Jenna, 7; and Alyssa now 5, who

was four weeks old when her father was shot.

The couple shared their feelings about what would happened should either

one of them die. They weren’t fatalistic, just realistic that at any

given time, the unexpected could happen.

Bob Henry was 30 when he was struck down in the line of duty March 12,

1995. Patty was staying at her parents home in Fullerton after watching

her younger sister perform in a high school theater production.

She awoke about 4 a.m. to tend to Alyssa who was stirring. Funny, she

thought, the baby hadn’t had any problems at this hour.

It was about the same time, Henry confronted 24-year-old Carlos Caicedo

of Garden Grove, a despondent father who was worried about losing his

young son in a custody battle. He had scribbled a suicide note before

heading to an empty church parking lot on 16th Street. Caicedo had been

drinking and was carrying a .38-caliber revolver. There were no

witnesses, but a subsequent investigation by the Orange County District

Attorney’s office pieced together the series of events.

A struggle may have ensued between Henry and Caicedo. A shot was fired

from the revolver, striking Henry in the head. Authorities said Caicedo

then took the officer’s .45-caliber pistol and killed himself. When

police arrived, they found the suspect’s body slumped over Henry’s.

Officers had a difficult time finding Patty. A friend of the couple’s

called his parents, who in turn, contacted Patty’s parents. She knew

something was wrong.

“I just remember thinking he wasn’t dead, but I didn’t know how serious

it was,” said Patty, who noted Henry loved working the graveyard shift.

“Even though he was a police officer, I never ever worried about his

safety. I don’t do worrying well.”

There probably wasn’t anything that prepared Patty for what she was about

to see. Henry was in bad shape. His head had swollen and his breathing

was labored. Yet she never gave up hope, even though the initial

prognosis was bleak.

“I refused to believe he was going to die,” she recalled.

Patty was right: he was defying the odds. The chances of surviving a gun

shot wound to the head was less than 5 percent. But Henry kept battling

and Patty never left his side.

Although Henry never regained consciousness, she talked to him. He held

her hand when she spoke and refused to let go. When Patty and other

family members gathered around his bedside one time, she saw a tear in

the corner of his eye.

“He was trapped,” she said. “He couldn’t communicate, but we could tell

him things. I told him no matter what happened, we would be OK.”

His condition improved during the tenuous time, but when a blood clot was

found in the officer’s lung, Patty knew the worst was coming. A week

later, on April 13, Henry went into cardiac arrest and died. Patty was at

his bedside.

“It was very peaceful,” she remembered. “To be there when he took his

last breath, I knew he was complete. The best way I can describe that

time when he was in a coma was there were great days of hope and dire

moments of crisis.”

‘Organized chaos’

In the ensuing weeks after his death, Patty was thrown into “organized

chaos” as she calls it. She attended her husband’s funeral, attended

police officer memorials and tended to family affairs. Some days she

didn’t feel like getting out of bed because she thought it wasn’t her

life anymore.

But Patty was assisted by a support system that stretched for miles. Not

only was she helped by her own family and the Henry clan, the rank and

file of law enforcement pitched in.

Patty kept her focus on the children, who were too young to understand

the death of their father. A social worker told Patty to be completely

honest with the children.

She sees many of her husband’s attributes in their children. Small

mannerisms -- the tilting of the head or a glowing smile -- have been

passed on.

Patty realizes she can’t answer all of the questions the children ask

about their father. But she does her best to tell them what kind of man

he was.

“I hope as they grow there are enough people to fill in the blanks, so

they can get a complete picture of who he was,” she said.

Meeting Mr. Right again

Life has changed for Patty since Henry’s death. Maybe the biggest

adventure was meeting someone who wasn’t intimidated of her past. She

found “Mr. Right” a second time, and has asked to keep his identity

private. She’s known him since they were 12, where they grew up in the

same neighborhood. Her new husband not only knew Bob, but is also a

police officer.

The couple were married in 1998 and have a 6-month-old son named Matthew.

She said Henry would have wanted her to find someone she could love and

love her back.

“We both believed that you aren’t supposed to go through this world

alone,” she said.

Patty admits she doesn’t focus on Henry every day, although he still is

part of her life. She has her family, her health and the memories of a

man who helped her become a better person.

“I’m a whole different person than I was five years ago,” she added.

“Emotionally there is a point where you do get better and you can move

on. I will never forget him.”