Hundreds say goodbye to slain Syracuse cop Michael Jensen - a beloved brother, a goofball, a hero

Rome, N.Y. ― Hundreds of Syracuse police officers, police chiefs, mayors, the governor and the state attorney general traveled to St. John the Baptist Church Saturday in Rome to say goodbye to Officer Michael Jensen, who was killed in a shootout last Sunday.

Outside the small church where Jensen was baptized, officers from all over the state stood at attention in the cold wind under an enormous American flag hung from a ladder truck.

Even with the dignitaries, hundreds of hats held over uniformed hearts and the painful circumstances of his death, Jensen’s family and friends filled the ceremony with intimate and colorful stories about his life and their love for him.

“Michael was so many things to so many different people and all that mattered,” said Jared Groff, his sister’s fiancé.

Jensen died Sunday after a shootout in the town of Salina. He went with other officers to investigate a car they had seen driving erratically earlier in the evening. A man opened fire with an AR-15, killing Jensen and Onondaga County Sheriff’s Lt. Michael Hoosock.

Hoosock’s funeral will be held Monday at the New York State Fairgrounds.

Jensen’s funeral Saturday was attended by Gov. Kathy Hochul, state Attorney General Letitia James and other public officials. Mayors, county executives, a congressman, several past Syracuse police officers and others paid their respects. Because the church could only seat 850 people, others were encouraged to watch the service online.

Jensen’s family chose to celebrate his life at their home church. The Rev. Paul Angelicchio led the Mass. Angelicchio watched Jensen grow up, through baptism, first communion and confirmation.

He is also the former Syracuse Police chaplain, who was on duty 34 years ago, when Wallie Howard was killed.

“The death of Wallie Howard was the first one that I ever did,” he said. “I hope this is the last one that I ever do.”

Jensen started his professional life in accounting, then decided to take the police exam. His mother Michelle, scared, went to talk to Angelicchio.

“When he said he was going to become a police officer, Michelle came right to me, says ‘What am I going to do? This is what he wants’,” the priest said.

They prayed for him.

Jensen’s sister, his parents and his police partners who gave eulogies laughed and cried, sometimes at the same time.

His sister ShelliAnn, said he would “swap wasabi for guacamole and think it was hilarious when you spit it everywhere.”

Despite that, they were friends as well as siblings. Michael had planned to be “man of honor” at her wedding this fall.

“I shouldn’t be an only child,” she said. “I love you brother.”

Jensen was a hero, a goofball, a lover and a teaser of dogs, a dear friend and a prankster, they said.

They told his secrets – after checking the statute of limitations. They told stories about him in the present tense, as if they were having beers together at Coleman’s, his favorite place.

There was the time he flipped his police car and got sent to bike duty in the mall.

Police Captain David Metz said he made Jensen sit with a toy car at Roll Call as punishment for driving too fast. Metz put on Jensen’s hat and a fake mustache as he spoke to the congregation.

Officer Grant Prudhomme, a friend of Jensen’s dating back to their student days at Le Moyne College, recalled an incident in which Jensen answered a police call with his mother, Michelle, in the front seat of the cruiser. Mrs. Jensen had stopped to see Michael during his shift at Destiny USA, bringing cookies. Since her car was at the far end of the parking lot, he and partner Jimmy Zollo offered to give her a ride to her vehicle.

Just then, they got a call that a shoplifter was running from the Macy’s store. They followed him, catching up and wrestling the thief to the ground on Wolf Street. Prudhomme also answered the call and remembers saying hello to Mrs. Jensen as she sat in the cruiser.

“She looked so terrified,’’ he said. “She looked white as a ghost.”

Later that day, she sent Prudhomme a text message, which he read in church.

“Grant, I’m so sorry I couldn’t talk to you but I was in shock,’’ it said. “I can’t believe I got to see you in those circumstances. I was so afraid, I could not talk. But I hope you’re doing well and that you have a wonderful day.”

The punchline on most of these stories was that Jensen came away with a smile and story to tell. It turned out, he loved working at the mall.

At the end of what felt like a roast, Metz removed the mustache to tell a more serious story.

Metz said he watched Jensen’s body camera footage because he needed to make sense of what happened last Sunday when the officers were gunned down.

He said Jensen saved lives, including some of the officers in the room. He was among those who returned fire when police were ambushed. The gunman died.

He said Jensen’s actions Sunday were “the most heroic thing I’ve ever seen in my entire life.”

“The bravery, the courage he displayed was something that is truly remarkable, truly remarkable,” he said.

Contact Michelle Breidenbach | mbreidenbach@syracuse.com | 315-470-3186.