Sgt. Damon Gutzwiller: A Man 'Too Beautiful To Describe'

APTOS, CA — Hundreds of California law enforcement officers gathered Wednesday at a memorial service in honor of Damon Gutzwiller, the fallen Santa Cruz County Sheriff's sergeant killed in a shooting in Ben Lomond.

He was remembered as a gentle and sensitive soul, an exceptional father, a faithful friend with an infectious, goofy grin and a man wholly devoted to his community. He was a skilled and compassionate law enforcement officer, colleagues said, and it wasn't uncommon to hear a person Gutzwiller arrested thank him by the end of their interaction.

Gutzwiller, 38, was born in Santa Monica, moved to Santa Cruz in 1989 and graduated from Aptos High School in 1999, said René Schlaepfer, pastor of Twin Lakes Church in Aptos. He attended Cabrillo College — where Wednesday's service was held — and began volunteering for the Santa Cruz County Sheriff's Office at age 18 as a parking enforcement officer on campus, Sheriff Jim Hart said.

He was hired as a deputy in 2006. Fourteen years later, his colleagues said, Gutzwiller would lay his life down to protect the community he loved so deeply.

Gutzwiller was fatally shot June 6 while responding to a call of a suspicious van with guns and bomb-making equipment inside. Responding officers unknowingly walked into a volley of gunfire and explosives as they approached a Ben Lomond home, Hart said.

He leaves behind wife Favi Del Real, who is due to give birth this month, and two-year-old son Carter. A fundraising campaign to support Gutzwiller's family had raised about $670,000 as of Tuesday morning.

'Too Big, Too Beautiful To Describe'

Del Real addressed the crowd Wednesday and began her remarks by asking the audience if they had ever struggled to describe something breathtakingly beautiful to another person.

"Some things are too big, too beautiful to describe and a picture will never do it justice," she said. "That's how it was with Damon."

On their first date, he brought ice cream to her house and they watched a movie together, she said. Out of respect — or maybe fear — he sat three feet away from her all night, she said.

Weeks later, Del Real, a neonatal intensive care unit nurse, said that she had an especially difficult 16-hour shift at work after a baby died. She came home to find a cooler stocked with meals for the day and a note from Gutzwiller that said he wanted to give her space, but make sure she had something to eat.

"I didn't know that someone could really be that kind," Del Real said.

As their relationship blossomed, Gutzwiller carved her a love spoon from a single block of wood — a Welsh tradition, she said. He carved an anchor into the gift to symbolize his eternal devotion and a keyhole to symbolize how he committed to protecting her.

Gutzwiller, an only child raised by his mother, became an extremely attentive caregiver to her as she aged and struggled with her health, and invited her to move in with his family, Del Real said.

He was selfless, she said. The only thing he wanted for himself was a Jeep. He diligently saved, but when he learned his dog Shasta had cancer, he spent his Jeep fund on treating his beloved friend. Shasta brought him more joy that a Jeep ever could, he told his wife.

Del Real said her husband was the kind of man who always prioritized his family. She didn't want kids when they met, but she changed her mind because she knew he would be an incredible father.

Gutzwiller looked forward to taking Carter on fishing trips, coaching his little league team and teaching him to play golf. He bought scooters for himself and Carter, and looked forward to father-son scooter rides, she said. They were only able to have one together.

Del Real thanked the community her husband loved and died defending for their overwhelming support and love. He will live on in her heart and through their children, she said.

"This is the man who I am missing, who Carter is missing, and who our new baby will never meet," she said. "This is the man our whole community is missing."

'This Community Is ... Why He Became A Deputy'

Sheriff Jim Hart recalled talking to Gutzwiller about a career in law enforcement before he had even put on a uniform. Then-Sgt. Hart played a role in hiring him and in 2019, Hart promoted him to the rank of sergeant.

Gutzwiller could be tough when he needed to, but he preferred to communicate about problems and "exemplified community policing," Hart said. He was generous, "unflappable in the face of challenges" and would try to take away everyone's pain if he could.

"If I could fill my department with Damon Gutzwillers, I would," he said. "And believe me, our ranks are full of Damons. I love you guys."

Gutzwiller's roots in the community ran so deep that hours after his death, 1,000 people had showed up to a vigil at the sheriff's office, Hart said. He will leave a lasting impact on the community, Hart said.

"This community is why he became a sheriff, why he became a deputy," he said.

Wednesday's memorial service was made possible in spite of a prohibition against large gatherings thanks to Gov. Gavin Newsom, Hart said. Newsom stopped by the ceremony and California Attorney General Xavier Becerra was in attendance.

Hart thanked more than 40 law enforcement agencies who had stepped up to assist Santa Cruz County officers with the investigation into the Ben Lomond shooting and to handle day-to-day matters, giving local officers a chance to grieve. He also thanked the officers who responded to the June 6 incident and saved many lives.

When Hart finished his remarks, he walked over to Gutzwiller's family, got down on a knee and presented Carter with his father's badge.

Gutzwiller loved his job to the end, said Sheriff's Sgt. Steve Ryan, Gutzwiller's former beat partner. He made all of his friends feel like the most important people in the world. Any time his son's name came up in conversation, Gutzwiller would pull up a photo of his boy.

"You made all of our lives so much brighter and without you, it will take a little while for our eyes to adjust," he said.

Sheriff's Sgt. Chris Shearer said he's spent recent days trying to recall every detail of his last conversation, his last shift, his last beer with Gutzwiller. He was a good person and an incredible father.

To his colleagues in law enforcement, Shearer said this is one of the moments in an officer's career that will "knock you to your knees." Deputies will pray this never happens again, and get lost in questions of "why," "how" and "what if."

"I don't know if we'll ever get what we're looking for," Shearer said. "But I am certain that we'll always find a little bit of Damon in our lives."

Shearer said he is committed to fulfilling his promise to Del Real and making sure his children know about his life, and know their father as a man whose smile was honest and bright, who loved the mountains and dreamed of a cabin in the Sierras, who never turned down an adventure and who was never scared of an honest conversation.

"Carter, sitting behind you is a never-ending sea of tan and green," he said. "Those are your brothers and those are your sisters, and we're never going away."

Santa Cruz City Deputy Fire Chief Mark Ramos recalled how he and his wife met Gutzwiller and his dog on the beach by chance, then grew to love him as a son. He was often at their house, where the Ramos family stocked his favorites: pumpkin ice cream and pumpkin cheesecake.

He remembered how his eyes lit up when he spoke of his love for his then-girlfriend and how "Favi and Carter were the stuff that dreams were made of for Damon."

"Some of us lost our best friend, some of us lost a fellow brother. Favi lost her solemate, Carter and baby Gutzwiller lost the man that would have wanted to be the best daddy," Ramos said. "We will honor your life by loving your family. Until we meet again."

Watch the service here:

The service began around 10:30 a.m. at the Cabrillo College football field, following a procession through the City of Santa Cruz, Live Oak and Aptos, beginning at 7:45 a.m. About an hour after the procession began, law enforcement cars flashing blue and red lights began filing into the Cabrillo College parking lot. Country music played as Central Coast and NorCal law enforcement officers began filing in to take their seats.

Supporters livestreaming the service on the sheriff's office YouTube channel offered kind words and condolences.

"The utmost respect for sergeant Gutzwiller," one wrote. "You are a hero and your family is in the best of hands with SCSO. Thank you for the ultimate sacrifice."

"My heart breaks for his loved ones, and for our community who has lost a treasure," wrote another. "May God comfort you in your pain.

Newsom previously issued a statement on the day of the shooting saying that capitol flags would be lowered to half-mast in Gutzwiller's honor. He called Gutzwiller "a hero who devoted his life to protecting the community and as a loving husband and father."

Gutzwiller was honored June 7 with a vigil outside the sheriff's office, where he was remembered by colleagues as a gentle soul, quick to smile, who made those around him feel safe and loved.

"I never saw him have a bad day even when he was due one," said Ryan, his former beat partner.

"He was incredibly patient, gentle in a way that's rare in this world, but with the rocksteady confidence of someone who knows what the hell they're doing in almost every situation they find themselves in."

The Santa Cruz County Sheriff's Office has not seen an officer killed in the line of duty since Deputy Michael Gray's death in 1983.

— Patch staffer Nick Garber contributed to this report

See more:

• Vigil Mourns Damon Gutzwiller, Santa Cruz Deputy Killed In Ambush
• Accused Attacker Charged In Ambush On Santa Cruz Deputies
• Santa Cruz Co. Deputy Killed In Ben Lomond Shooting, Explosions
• Deputy Injured In Shooting Honored Upon Release From Hospital

Correction: A previous version of this story misidentified Favi Del Real's last name.