A sorrowful winter wind blew through the air Friday as family, friends and fellow officers paid their final respects to State College Police Officer Robert Bradley.
Hundreds of people turned out for funeral services at the First Baptist Church in Bellefonte. Inside the church, Bradley’s casket was draped by an American flag.
Bradley, a 19 year veteran of the force, died unexpectedly while on duty on Monday.
Pastor Greg Shipe reminded the crowd that Friday was a day of both mourning and celebration.
“This is not saying goodbye; this is just saying ‘we’ll see you later,’ because you have the same savior that Bob has,” Shipe said. “To think ‘I will see him again in Heaven,’ what hope that brings, what a comfort that is.”
Shipe read from the very Bible that had been given to Bradley by his father, the same Bible that rested on his bedside in life. With that book, Shipe reminded the crowd that body may be little more than dust, but the soul lives on.
But the sense of the loss that comes with death also lives on through the years, lingering in the memories of those still living.
Mike Wiggin, a police officer from Latimore Township near Gettysburg, knows the pain that comes with losing a fellow officer. Though he never knew Bradley, he attended the service as a show of solidarity with the Bradley family and the State College Police Department.
Wiggin says something as simple as a patch, a badge, a desk in the department will always serve as a reminder of the loss suffered. But while that pain may linger, so too will the joy that lives in memories.
Kim Weigand, executive director of a support network for families who have lost an officer, also never knew Bradley. She says she attended to help show the family that they are not alone, as her own son also died in the line of duty.
“It’s as if your family portrait has fallen and shattered into a thousand pieces, but you can never put it back together again, because one of the pieces is missing,” Weigand says.
Family members and friends shared stories from Bradley’s life, prompting both tears and laughter from the audience: the time he got in trouble for throwing a snowball at a school bus, the time he played soccer on the roof of a supermarket with his cousins, the time he drove to the Pittsburgh airport just to show his newborn daughter to his sister for a few minutes before she boarded a plane.
Bob Bradley, Sr. also spoke, and thanked the gathered multitudes for honoring the life of his son.
He admitted he hadn’t seriously studied the Bible in many years, but said he’d been reflecting on Jesus’ Sermon on the Mount. One passage in particular stood out to him: “Blessed are those who mourn, for they shall be comforted.”
“And you boys in blue, Jesus had you in mind those thousands of years ago,” Bradley said. “Blessed are the peacemakers, for they are children of God. And my Bobby was a child of God.”
Later, on the road beside the burial site at Myer Cemetery, a line of police cruisers stretched for as far as the eye could see, their blue and red lights flashing in solemn tribute.
Police officers from across Pennsylvania stood at attention with firm resolve. Behind them, a bagpipe cried the tune of “Amazing Grace” while the sound of weeping, barely audible beneath the music, hung in the air.
But for all the grieving, there was hope.
