Grief Pervades a Somber Farewell to a Slain Police Officer

New York Times

6 days ago

The sky opened, unleashing a torrent of rain. The thick drops fell heavily over a three-story mosque, soaking the ranks of Police Department officers who stood on the street outside.
The Thursday afternoon downpour washed over the funeral of Didarul Islam, 36, an officer slain by a gunman in the heart of New York. As the speeches and prayers came to an end, water poured down, soaking dress uniforms and kurtas alike.
The funeral, held in the Parkchester Jame Masjid, on a residential street in Mr. Islam's Bronx neighborhood, came three days after Mr. Islam was killed in the city's deadliest single shooting in 25 years.
The shooting broke out on Monday, when a gunman entered an office building at 345 Park Avenue carrying an assault-style rifle and began shooting, killing Mr. Islam and then two others. He then headed to the 33rd floor, where he killed a fourth person and then took his own life. The attacker, who had traveled across the country from his home in Nevada, had intended to target the headquarters of the National Football League, the authorities said.
The funeral drew hundreds of police officers from at least 54 of the city's 77 precincts, and more still from neighboring states and counties. It transformed the quiet neighborhood.
Around the mosque, the streets were empty of cars. A 50-foot American flag, propped on two fully extended fire truck ladders, hung above the 6 train tracks a few blocks away. A jumbo screen on the back of a truck flashed an image of Mr. Islam holding his young son, with his Police Department uniform hat askew on the little boy's head.
Snipers stood in position on buildings nearby.
On the sidewalks, the officers mixed with crowds of women in hijabs and men in skullcaps; it was an intermingled sea of navy high-crowned hats and multicolored head coverings.
The scene represented the diversifying face of a Police Department that once had been overwhelmingly white. But it was also a fitting celebration of the life of a man who had immigrated from Bangladesh and given his life to protect the city he now called home.
'Didarul Islam came to this country as an immigrant with no guarantees, only the hope that hard work, that humility, and that purpose might lead him somewhere meaningful,' Police Commissioner Jessica Tisch said during her remarks at the funeral. 'And it did.'
The funeral rituals, which stretched nearly four hours in punishing summer humidity, began with viewings, first for women; then for men; then a private viewing for police executives and family and friends.
By 10:30 a.m., more than a hundred women, most of them officers in uniform, had formed a line on the sidewalk next to the mosque, waiting to enter. All had to wear head scarves; one woman who came unprepared borrowed one.
The room was bedecked with floral wreaths and an American flag. But the focus was a casket that lay covered with the green-white-and-blue standard of the Police Department.
A group of more than a dozen women and children sat quietly before it, while women, both uniformed and plainclothes police, wept quietly around them. The hushed tones of Bangla and English filtered through the air.
Just after noon, city and state officials, officers and community members packed a room in the mosque, side by side on the floor. Mayor Eric Adams spoke; Zohran Mamdani, who is running against him in the November election, sat with the family.
Commissioner Tisch spoke of the officer with barely restrained emotion.
He had come to New York City from Bangladesh at the age of 20. He was a stalwart husband and father. He lived in a small brick house with his parents, his sons, 5 and 7, and his wife, Jamila Akhter, who is pregnant with their third child and expected to deliver in a few weeks.
Her eulogy for her husband, read aloud for her in the service, said Mr. Islam had 'lived to help others.'
'He gave his life protecting them,' she wrote. 'Though my heart is broken, I find comfort knowing that his sacrifice might have saved others.'
Mr. Islam had served in the department for just three and half years, but in that short time, he had done the job of an officer with twice as much experience, Commissioner Tisch said.
He had joined the force after working two years as a safety agent in city public schools.
He worked hard at his police job — long shifts and then more work as a security guard in his time off, all to bring a little more home. A promotion had been in his future, a fellow officer said.
On Sunday, Mr. Islam had worked 'more than a full tour' at the Dominican Day Parade in the Bronx, and on Monday, he picked up an extra shift at 345 Park Avenue.
'He stepped into a new land and chose to become part of its promise, to believe in its dream. And he did believe in the American dream, not as something handed down but as something built with your own hands,' said Commissioner Tisch, who wore a black head scarf as she addressed the crowd inside the mosque.
'He may not be here to see that dream fulfilled, but his sons will surely grow up with its foundation beneath their feet.'
Mr. Islam cared deeply about his Muslim faith, his friends and colleagues said in their eulogies. But he 'lived at a time when people like him are too often feared, vilified and made to feel like outsiders,' said Imam Dr. Zakir Ahmed of the Islamic Cultural Center of New York.
'We cannot honor Officer Islam today while ignoring the daily pain endured by his community — being told to go back where you came from, being watched more closely, judged more harshly and loved less fully,' Imam Ahmed said.
'To our city, our nation, you cannot ask us to serve and then silence us,' he said. 'You cannot take our sacrifice and ignore our suffering.' Murmurs of agreement echoed through the mosque.
Outside, where the heat was stifling, hundreds of people craned to hear the service through speakers. Rows of mourners set up prayer mats and knelt to the ground. Several Police Academy cadets became overwhelmed by the heat and were escorted away. Two police officers fainted.
The speeches concluded, and then the prayers. Outside, hundreds of officers lined up for a processional, the conclusion of the service. An officer walked down the ranks, pointing to the ground, reminding officers, 'toes on the line.'
Then came the rain. First droplets, then a downpour.
Six police officers emerged from the mosque carrying the flag-cloaked casket on their shoulders. They paused momentarily in front of a screen showing photos of Officer Islam and his children before sliding the coffin into an awaiting white hearse.
Hundreds of officers stood motionless. Not one had an umbrella.
A parade of police motorcycles revved, kicking off the procession that would soon carry Mr. Islam's body to its final resting place at a cemetery in New Jersey. A detective who had brought her 3-year-old daughter guided the child's hand to her head in a salute. 'We have to say goodbye to Officer Islam,' she said to the girl.
The rain now came in torrents.
The white hearse took off toward the Cross Bronx Expressway, crossing beneath the elevated 6 train station. A Manhattan bound train passed overheard and as the vehicles crossed paths, let out a long mournful horn salute.
Mr. Islam's hearse headed on toward the cemetery.
Maria Cramer, Ashley Ahn, Matthew Haag Fahima Haque and Wesley Parnell contributed reporting.