He was a good father, a good cop, a good friend and a good leader.
A humble man, Mike Thomas didn’t think he was anything special, but those who knew him knew better.
On Tuesday, at least 3,000 uniformed officers from throughout the area and about 1,000 others paid their respects to the Aurora police detective who was gunned down last week while waiting at a stoplight on his way to a training session.
“Mike was a tender warrior,” said Aurora police Capt. Jerry Hinkle, who gave the eulogy at Thomas’ funeral at Heritage Christian Center. “Mike’s life was a testimony to the truth that good overcomes evil.
“Go in peace, brother. We will see you on the other side.”
After the service, Thomas was buried in Fort Logan National Cemetery, in the same section as his father, Delbert Thomas, who, like his son, was an Air Force veteran. More than 500 cars took part in the procession from the church to the cemetery.
“It’s hard to be in the motorcade and not break out in tears,” said Aurora Police Chief Daniel Oates.
At Fort Logan, Oates presented Thomas’ daughter, Nicole Bantau, with the detective’s badge and the flag that had draped his coffin.
After the committal service, which included a 21-gun salute, Oates thanked the community on behalf of Thomas’ family.
“The family has been overwhelmed by the outpouring of the community today,” Oates said.
Some drove hundreds of miles to honor the fallen officer. Others just came even though they had only read about Thomas in the newspaper or seen him on television.
Kathy Marshall of Denver was on a tour bus heading to the high country to see the fall colors when the bus broke down near the church.
It was a fortuitous mishap, she said. She and others in the tour stood outside the Heritage Christian Center in amazement as the motorcade of officers from as far away as Canada began filtering into the parking lot.
“This is a very humbling experience,” Marshall said. “It teaches you loyalty, respect and humility. This is beautiful.”
The son of a Durango police officer, 8-year-old Joey Wysocki drove seven hours with his dad, Ron, to pay their respects. On the way to Aurora, the two talked about what happened to Thomas.
“It makes me kind of sad because he didn’t deserve to die,” the youngster said.
Gov. Bill Owens spoke of Thomas’ commitment to serving his community, noting that the 52-year-old had been in the Air Force and served 24 years on the Aurora police force.
“For Mike, his job was not about the accolades and medals. It was about helping others,” Owens said. “He never sounded the call of retreat.”
Thomas lived on the same block in the Mission Viejo neighborhood in Aurora where Owens once lived – before he was governor.
“We were so thrilled that an officer had moved in down the street,” Owens said. “While he didn’t know me, I knew him.”
Thomas affected many people’s lives in a variety of ways.
Hinkle said that on Friday the department received a card from a man named George who had run into Thomas when the man was a 14-year-old gang member without any direction in his life. Thomas pulled up to the boy in his squad car, Hinkle said, and told him to get in, and the two talked. Today, George is the owner of a security company.
Another card they received had a simple but sincere message: “You saved my life.”
The stage of the church was filled with about 40 bouquets of flowers, with two pictures of Thomas posing with his police dog in front. A single bagpiper played as officers carried Thomas’ coffin in. Then the officer’s family came in, which included his brother, Jim Thomas; mother, Norma; and daughter and son-in-law, Nicole and Nathan Bantau.
Thomas’ family released a prepared statement, which read in part: “Our lives have been forever changed, but Mike will remain in our hearts forever. Although we will never be able to fully recover, we feel so blessed to have been able to share in his life.”
Division Chief Ken Murphy, who first met Thomas when he was in the police academy, said Thomas had a passion for the Denver Broncos, saying that Thomas would even attend training camp.
“He was convinced he knew more than the coaches, and he probably did,” Murphy said. “No doubt, someone up there is getting an earful.”
Over and over again, those who knew Thomas said his daughter was his life. When Nicole was a child, Thomas would park his police cruiser outside her day care when he would fill out his paperwork.
“He felt comfort he was able to be close to his daughter, Nicole,” Murphy said.
And having a police dog around came in handy, Murphy said, when Nicole’s dates would come to pick her up.
“Nicole was never brought home late,” he said.
During the service, an eight-minute video was played showing pictures taken during Thomas’ life. They showed him on the slopes, next to his Harley-Davidson, at his daughter’s wedding and fixing up an old house.
Murphy said Thomas was humble to a fault. He would always tell Murphy, “I ain’t nobody,” and said Thomas would not have wanted all the attention he has gotten since his death.
“Even though he thought ‘I ain’t nobody’ – Mike, you were somebody.”
Staff writer Carlos Illescas can be reached at 303-954-1175 or cillescas@denverpost.com.
