The funeral procession began hours before the service.
A dozen Lakewood police cars shone their golden caution lights as they sped down Interstate 25 in a line toward New Life Church in Colorado Springs to honor the life of Detective Jared Jensen.
The officers joined a sea of white patrol cars in the church’s parking lot late Monday morning, when about 3,000 law officials came to honor their fallen brother.
By 4 p.m., Interquest Parkway outside the church was brimming with cars of those waiting for the funeral procession to begin so they, too, could pay their respects.
Michelle Silvestri held her fraternal twins, one under each arm, and crouched along the road when the first motorcycle sailed by with lights flashing, signaling the beginning of the procession.
“He got shot by a bad guy, and he’s going up to heaven,” said 4-year-old Matthew, who placed his hand over his heart as the hearse and the limos passed by.
Meanwhile, down the road, on the rear window of his Chevrolet Tahoe, injured Denver firefighter Jimmy Hee placed a sign: “God made COPS so that … Firefighters can have heroes too. R.I.P. Brother.”
Toward the end of the route, near the Police Operations Center in downtown Colorado Springs, Gil Sintas parked his motor home. A couple of weeks ago, Jensen stopped by the motor home to make sure no one inside was selling drugs.
“I understand he was just doing his job,” Sintas said. “His main concern was the welfare and safety of everybody.”
His grandson, 10-year-old Victor Sintas, wore a toy police badge with a piece of black tape pulled across it to signify Jen sen’s death.
“I want to protect the town,” said Victor, who said he wants to be a police officer when he grows up. He recalled that Jen sen was “nice” when the officer stopped by the motor home.
Johnathan Lieberman, 10, and his family each held black balloons, accented by a silver star, a heart and an American flag. They released them into the air when the hearse and Jensen’s family passed by.
“We also left a bunch of red balloons at the memorial for all the broken hearts,” said Valerie, Johnathan’s mother.
Rachel Brown, 58, of Colorado Springs chanted a Native American prayer in her Sioux tongue along the parade route.
Brown held feathers and turned in all directions, blessing the processional route in anticipation of passing mourners.
“When one of our warriors die in battle, we send prayers and feathers so they can fly again,” Brown said.
Staff writer Julianne Bentley can be reached at jbentley@denverpost.com.
