It had to be one of the most beautiful places in the world - maybe the most beautiful place. For Geoff and Shawna Jensen, the mountains of northwest Wyoming and the Yellowstone area never got old. The views, the trees, and the pristine air - somewhat thinner at almost seven thousand feet above sea level, but crisp and fresh - were soothing to the soul. They would never leave.
Their jobs were demanding and sometimes very stressful, but when one worked in what was essentially a gigantic outdoor playground, relief and relaxation were within easy reach. A run on the ski slopes, a hike to a mountain peak, a bicycle ride down a gravel track, or just a leisurely drive - the medication for work ailments was never far away and always easy to take.
Moreover, if one wasn't blessed with tremendous wealth, as they were, this place was still perfect. Sitting on the deck during the day would often present skies as blue as azure. The same activity at night offered a completely new vista - far from the light pollution of the big cities - comprised of thousands and thousands of stars in a staggering display. Geoff and his wife agreed - God was in a very good mood when He made the Tetons.
As they drove their Mercedes sedan along Teton Pass Highway, it was another wondrous day, filled with anticipation. However, it wasn't the bright sunshine, which they saw in abundance with the thin wisps of high clouds acting as accents. Nor was it the pure, white, blinding snow. It reflected the sunlight and was still several feet deep along the side of the road at nearly eighty-five hundred feet. It wasn't the clean air, which they relished with every breath. It wasn't even the incredible scenery that had them excited.
Today was their big break, the culmination of years of frustration, pain, hard work, and expense. Geoff and Shawna were about to become parents. Both in their late twenties and unable to have children on their own, they were driving to the town of Idaho Falls, just across the border. There they would complete the process of adopting their precious child, a three-week-old infant offered up by a destitute young woman in Vietnam. In prior visits, they had seen him lying in a little bassinet and they had held him, cuddled him, and rocked him to sleep. Shawna had fed him, watching his little mouth suck on the bottle, his eyes looking at her. Today he would become family, and he was beautiful. Seven pounds, nineteen inches, smooth skin, and strands of coal-black hair...perfection with a heartbeat.
Shawna turned and looked at the new infant seat in the back and thought about the redecorating they had done at the house, turning one of the bedrooms into a nursery. The desire to hold their baby was almost too much to take. She looked at the clock on the radio - 8:45am - and tried to think. Before noon, the adoption process would be complete and she would hold her baby. The next time she got in the car, they would have a son. When they passed this spot going the other direction, she would be in the back seat, probably feeding little Adam Geoffrey Jensen - that was the name they had picked - his first bottle as a member of their little family.
As they crested the Pass and began their descent, a car pulled around to pass. Geoff thought it was a daring move, given the curves and extremely brief passing zones, so he slowed just a bit to allow the car more room. But it slowed as well, and when Geoff glanced to the left, the window of the passing car was down. Jensen did a double take, realizing too late that he was looking down the barrel of a machine gun. Before he could even speak, his window shattered and he felt the intense pressure as the first of numerous bullets pierced his head and neck - then there was nothing.
The gun fired until its thirty-round magazine was empty, and the passing car accelerated away. The Mercedes continued until the road curved to the left, then drove through the guardrail and came to rest against the snowy embankment on the right side of the road. Inside, the bullet-riddled bodies of Geoff and Shawna Jensen had shut down and begun the process of cooling off.
Later that Afternoon
As the applause faded, the Palm Beach Police Commissioner got up and walked to the podium. He adjusted the mic and began to speak. "This is an auspicious event. We are here today to recognize and celebrate the actions of one of our officers. The Palm Beach Police Department is filled with men and women who strive to serve and protect the people of our great city. All of you have my utmost respect, my complete support, and my total endorsement. I am proud to be your Commissioner. There are occasions, however, when the actions of officers merit special attention, and this is one of those occasions. Captain Harry Lipschitz will now read the affidavit he submitted."
The Commissioner turned and Harry got up and approached the dais, holding a piece of paper. "Good afternoon and thank you all." He looked down at the paper and began to read.
"On the evening of February 3, 1994, at approximately 6:30pm, Homicide Detective Sergeant Christopher James Lorenzo arrived at the home of his partner, Homicide Detective Sergeant Rita Lee Lance. He found her door open and, upon entering the residence, discovered Sergeant Lance badly beaten and held hostage by Hector Illev Castellana. According to documents retrieved from Interpol, Castellana was an Ecuadorian-born, Russian-trained assassin with thirty-four known kills and twenty-two probable kills to his credit. He was hired to kill both Sergeant Lance and Sergeant Lorenzo. With no regard for his own personal safety, Sergeant Lorenzo engaged Castellana and attempted to secure the release of his partner. When that failed, Castellana simultaneously stabbed Sergeant Lance with a knife - his intent being to eviscerate her - while shooting at Sergeant Lorenzo in an attempt to kill him. Sergeant Lorenzo returned fire, killing Castellana. Remaining calm, he promptly administered first aid to his partner as best he could, called for help, and kept Sergeant Lance alive until medics arrived. Subsequent interviews with emergency medics on the scene, witnesses in the building where Sergeant Lance lives, and numerous doctors that worked on - and with - Sergeant Lance, provided a single conclusion. Sergeant Christopher James Lorenzo's selfless actions, in the face of his own death, were instrumental in saving the life of his partner, Sergeant Rita Lee Lance. Therefore, it is my recommendation that Sergeant Lorenzo be awarded the Palm Beach Police Medal of Valor for his actions. Signed, Captain Harry Lipschitz, Monday, February 7, 1994."
Harry looked up at the audience. "Homicide Detective Sergeant Rita Lee Lance will now speak concerning her partner and his actions." There was absolute silence as Harry turned from the podium and took his seat. The Commissioner turned and nodded and Rita got up and walked to the podium. Those that knew her well could see she still moved slowly and with more effort than usual. She paused and looked over the small auditorium, filled with fellow officers, city dignitaries, and members of the press. Already emotional, she looked down at Chris, sitting in the front row, realizing there was almost no way she could get through what she wanted to say without breaking down.
"I'm not much of a public speaker, so I'll be brief. I want to thank the Commissioner and Captain Lipschitz for allowing me to say a few words this afternoon. By rights, I shouldn't be here today. I shouldn't be standing in front of you, talking about the best partner an officer could have. I should be dead - buried and gone. Five weeks ago, Hector Castellana told me he was going to kill me - he was going to cut me into pieces - but not until he had beaten and raped me. He accomplished at least part of the beating, but because Sergeant Lorenzo intervened, that was as far as Castellana got."
She paused to wipe her eyes and then her nose.
"Those of you that know Christopher well know that he is brash on occasion and that he is always confident. But there is another side to Chris as well. As the Commissioner said, he is an officer that, above all, desires to serve this community and he has risked his own health and life on occasions too numerous to tell. As my partner, he is a selfless companion, and he is the consummate protector. I'm an adult and can take care of myself, but unless you have a partner like Christopher, you have no idea how freeing it is to know that I have him as my backup."
She daubed her eyes again. This was even more difficult than she first imagined.
"He is always there for me. I never, ever, worry about his support or his loyalty to me." She paused for a moment, thinking. "I want to tell you a little secret. It's rather coincidental that the night before I was attacked, after a particularly emotional day, he and I talked about this very thing. I told Chris that if the need arose, I knew he would do anything to save me. I knew - I didn't suspect, I didn't hope, I didn't wish or imagine. I just knew. But I had no idea that twenty-four hours later, I would experience it first-hand."
"My guts are still healing as are my stomach and face, and therapy - which I started last week - is hideous," she paused as quiet laughter rippled through the room. "But my heart is whole and it is filled with gratitude," her voiced cracked and she began to cry, "for the man that was willing to trade his life for mine - my partner, my rock, my best friend, Sergeant Christopher Lorenzo. Come up here!"
The room erupted in cheers and those in their chairs began standing when Chris, in full uniform, stood and walked up the stairs to the platform. As Harry and the Commissioner approached the podium, Rita hugged Chris through her tears - ignoring the flashbulbs from the cameras around the room - and kissed his cheek. Then she whispered in his ear, "Thank you, Christopher. Thank you. You know I love you."
"I love you, too, Rita," Chris whispered with a smile and eyes welling with tears. Rita put her hand up and wiped his face where her mascara had smudged his cheek a little.
When the applause subsided, the Commissioner spoke to Chris. "On behalf of the grateful City of Palm Beach, I award you the Palm Beach Police Medal of Valor." He handed the metal bar to Harry, who turned and pinned it in the proper spot on his uniform. Harry and Chris saluted each other as the ceremony concluded and the audience applauded again.