A familiar mourner and a grieving city

Scene: While investigating a stolen car, Aurora patrol officer Thompson Richardson is shot by 17-year-old Delmar Miller. Wounded on the streets of downtown Aurora, Richardson shoots Miller, then drags him to the police station where they both collapse. Meanwhile, Miller's car thief partner, 19-year-old Francis Houston, flees the scene as bystanders watch.

Chapter V


Tuesday, April 17, 1928

Delmar Miller confessed before he even left the hospital.

The 17-year-old from Bloomington admitted to former Aurora police chief Frank Michels that he had shot Thompson Richardson. But Miller was also quick to put the blame on his fellow car thief, Francis Houston.

"We were walking around the corner," Miller told Michels from his hospital bed. "And Houston motioned to me – you better shoot, only chance to get away – that's what he meant when he motioned.

"I was walking on the left side, the gun in my right pocket," Miller continued. "I shot through the pocket."

After 30 years on the force, Michels had retired the day Thompson was shot. But the chief who had solved some of Illinois' biggest cases came back to take care of one last investigation, the murder of one of his own.

"Even though you knew this man was going to die," Michels pressed, "you wouldn't want to change that statement?"

"The one thing I want to say is that I was sorry after I shot him," Miller said.

Meanwhile, in the same St. Charles hospital, Richardson was clinging to life. His pulse had slowed every day. Doctors who were at first optimistic, began to see that the bullet had done too much damage.

At 1:35 p.m., three days after he was shot on the streets of downtown Aurora, Thompson Richardson, 37, died.

As if startled from a cozy nap, the citizens of Aurora, who had stood by as Richardson had a gunfight with Miller and Houston, who had watched Houston flee the scene, suddenly grieved their hero.

The Beacon News started "the Richardson Fund," to raise money for the officers' wife and three young children. Average citizens, suddenly remembering the protection they took for granted, gave generously.

The St. Olaf Church choir donated $10, the Police Benevolent Association gave $500. North Aurora mayor Charles Greene chipped in $10, while the Greenman Elementary schoolboy patrol scrounged up $1.05 for their idol.

By the end of the month, more than $3,300 had been raised. The donations would eventually pay off the family's $4,700 mortgage, allowing widowed Etta Richardson to live in her Spencer Street home into her nineties.

On the day of the funeral, residents filled the streets of Aurora. A brigade of 15 city, county and state motorcycles led the procession to Riverside Cemetery. City officials, firefighters and the police department leadership walked in front of three cars filled with floral offerings.

To ride in the first motorcycle, the police department selected perhaps the only officer who could match Richardson's bravery.

They chose one of their veterans, an officer who had been in the car as patrolman Alfred Olin was shot to death in 1918, who - nearly killed by gangsters - chased the murderer's car even as he bled through his uniform.

Lester Wedemaier would lead the funeral procession.

Chapter VI


Friday, April 20, 1928

A few blocks from where they had stood by as police officer Thompson Richardson was shot, the citizens of Aurora now came to pay tribute.

Unable to find a seat, more than a thousand people stood silently outside St. Olaf Church for two hours. Inside, Rev. Oscar Johnson stood at the altar of his church. He had been at the hospital with Richardson as he faded away.

"I stand before you to pay tribute to a man of valor," Johnson began his sermon. "A man, in time of the greatest danger, who thought not of his own deadly injury, but whose thoughts were on fulfilling his duty. A dramatic exposition of courage has been recounted to you in the news of the tragedy of Sunday evening.

"When mortally wounded and falling upon the street, his heroism was amplified, his courageous instinct enabled him to bring in his man and complete the task assigned to him. He apprehended a murderer."

Johnson thought about the two boys who had been involved in Richardson's death. They were not brilliant criminals - they were two reckless, stupid kids.

"It is the God-given duty of every parent to raise their children to hate lawlessness and to love that which is right, that which is good, that which is eternal, that which is holy and sacred," Johnson bellowed from the pulpit. "Every one of you are examples. Someone is observing you and walking in your footsteps. God pity you if you are not an example for good."

The two boys, Delmar Miller, 17, and Francis Houston, 19, would eventually pay the price for their lawlessness.

After walking, hitching and stowing away on trains, Houston finally made it home to Bloomington, where the police were waiting on his front porch. He would later be convicted of auto theft and spend less than four years in jail.

Miller, the shooter, recovered from his injuries and plead guilty to murder. He received a life sentence. In 1948, Miller was one of 12 Illinois inmates who volunteered for a wartime experiment where he was injected with malaria fever in exchange having his sentence reduced to 60 years.

He was paroled in 1955 at the age of 49 and died in Bloomington in 1986.

However, those prison sentences did not heal Aurora because Richardson's death was not an ordinary crime. Richardson's murder represented much more to the people who had crammed Rev. Johnson's church. The invincible shield of law enforcement had been damaged; the blanket of security, shredded.

It was up to Johnson to remind the crowd that death would not chill the work of Aurora's police department.

When Alfred Olin had been killed in 1918, the city survived. Now, facing another murder, Richardson's death was not a reason for panic, but a reminder that no matter the danger, Johnson said, police would face it.

"I recall the reign of terror that many residents of our city experienced two years ago when home after home was entered by some burglar or band of burglars," Johnson told for the congregation. "The south east section was threatened, a resident sent in a call for police. Within three minutes police protection was granted.

"We are here to honor the efficient police department of our city. We know them for making Aurora a safe place in which to live, to establish our homes, to raise our families. We honor them for the protection we are assured of, hovering around us.

"It is the duty of every good citizen to make his life an example for good. The hero of the day calls you to fulfill that duty regardless of cost."