Memorial to Wayne Ellis David

Circumstance:  

Investigator Wayne David was shot and killed when a firearm he was recovering from a storm drain inadvertently discharged.

He and other officers had attempted to speak to a man who was in a suspicious vehicle in the 4500 block of Quarles Street NE at about 5:45 pm. The man fled on foot toward Eastern Avenue NE and jumped down onto DC-295, where he threw a firearm into a storm drain. A passing motorcyclist then picked the man up, and they fled the scene.

Investigator David was attempting to retrieve the firearm from the drain when it discharged, striking him in the head. He was flown to MedStar Washington Hospital Center by police helicopter where he succumbed to his wound several hours later.

A subject was arrested eight days later and charged with unlawful possession of a firearm.

Biography:

Investigator David is a 25-year veteran of the Metropolitan Police Department. He joined MPD in December 1998 and was assigned to the Third District after he graduated from the police academy. In November 2007, Investigator David went to the Gun Recovery Unit. He was then assigned as an investigator in the Violent Crime Suppression Division in 2021.

He is survived by his son and daughter. His brother retired from the Metropolitan Police Department.

Washington Post article dated September 12, 2024

Wayne David honored as father, jokester, veteran D.C. police officer

The turnout for Wayne David’s funeral reflected the impact of the veteran police officer killed last month by a gun he was trying to recover.

The son inhaled and looked out at the rows of officers in the same uniform that his father, Wayne David, wore the day he died. “Dear, Dad,” said Davon David, 20. The sanctuary at Ebenezer AME Church in Maryland was packed. “I didn’t know you were so popular.” The turnout, officials said in speeches, was reflective of the impact of Wayne David, 51, the veteran police officer killed last month by a gun he was trying to recover. David had been with the D.C. police department for 25 years, long enough to have trained young officers who later became his bosses and long enough to be seen by his colleagues as the embodiment of everyday policing.

They knew him for his joy. On Thursday, they honored him for his sacrifice. “He defined all that was good for his family, for his friends, for his colleagues and for our community,” D.C. Police Chief Pamela A. Smith said.

David, the D.C. police department’s first line-of-duty death in four years, grew up in the District and graduated from McKinley Technology High School before deciding to follow his brother’s lead and become a police officer. In 2007, he was assigned to the gun recovery unit. By 2022, he was a member of the violent crime suppression division, known by his peers as “Investigator Wayne.” Around the office, he was the guy who challenged his co-workers to foot races and brought jerk-and-lemon-pepper chicken and peach cobbler to cookouts.

Outside work, David’s friends and family called him “Goldie,” after a character involved in criminal activity in the movie “The Mack” — but as his brother explained, “in a good way.” He liked to crack jokes, said Kenyon Hogans, a lieutenant in the robbery suppression unit, who was trained by David in 2015 and most recently served as his boss. David had a sign on his desk that said, “Don’t talk to me unless you are an official.” And he was so proud of his gym routine that he kept his workout gloves on while driving, just for the chance to say he had done, “you know, a little pull-up.”

“We love you, Wayne,” Hogans said Thursday. “Until we meet again, hold it down up there.” Beside him, the officer lay still, his eyes closed. An American flag was draped over his open casket.

David was killed on a routine yet dangerous assignment. On Aug. 28, a man fled police officers and discarded a loaded Smith & Wesson firearm into a storm drain in Northeast Washington. It landed two or three feet down in the drain, which was covered by a grate, officials said. A violent crime suppression team, including David, soon arrived to execute the delicate task of removing the weapon from the street — a job widely seen among police officers as crucial to driving down violence.

Officials said David used a metal tool, typically used to unlock car doors, to try to reach the weapon when it discharged suddenly, striking him in the head. Police later arrested Tyrell Bailey, 27, on three weapons-related charges, including one count of unlawful possession of a firearm with a prior conviction.

“We can’t measure the people who are still alive because of the guns Wayne got off the street,” Mayor Muriel E. Bowser (D) said at the funeral. “We can’t measure that impact, just like we can’t measure the love that Wayne leaves behind. But we know it’s all around us.”

He had a son, Davon, and an adult daughter, Wanita, whom David had named after himself. He stayed in the delivery room when Wanita was born, said her mom, Sonya Cobbs. “I tried to put him out,” Cobbs said, “but he said he wanted to stay right there.”

Cobbs recalled a night when Wanita was about 6 months old and would not stop crying. Cobbs and David, who met in high school, were living apart at the time. She said she called him and said, “Come see about this child. I can’t do this. She’s crying.”

Fifteen minutes later, at about 2 a.m., he was at the front door. “Baby girl,” David said, according to Cobbs. “Daddy’s here.” He held her and she stopped crying, Cobbs said. Inside the church Thursday, Wanita sat next to her brother. Then she stood to bid her dad a final farewell. “I miss you dearly,” Wanita David said. “You taught me everything there is to know about life.”

They used to have father-daughter brunch dates and debate who was from the better generation. She said he would drop her off at school in his police cruiser.

Davon David and his dad were supposed to go together to Jamaica for his birthday.

“Don’t think I forgot,” he said. “But I’ll give you a pass this time, because God must have a better plan for us.” Davon talked about how he has to become the “family chef now,” and how proud he is to follow in David’s footsteps and pursue a career in law enforcement.

“Dear, Dad,” he said. “I’m almost done; there’s just so much I have to say, and you know I can go on and on in our conversations.” Davon said he looks in the mirror and sees his dad’s features. “Dear, Dad, you know I’m not really done yet.”

Less than half an hour later, David’s casket was closed. Soon after that, it passed the building where he used to crack jokes and fight crime and bring peach cobbler. From the street, his colleagues watched beneath a billowing American flag.