Pubdate: Thu, 26 Jan 2012 Source: Chicago Tribune (IL) Copyright: 2012 Chicago Tribune Company Contact: http://drugsense.org/url/IuiAC7IZ Website: http://www.chicagotribune.com/ Details: http://www.mapinc.org/media/82 Author: Jason Meisner, Tribune Reporter SLAIN COP'S FRIEND MOVED TO TEARS AS DRUG SUSPECT IS CONVICTED OF MURDER The cop clutched a framed photograph and sat doubled over on the courtroom bench, wracked with sobs after a reputed drug dealer had been convicted Thursday in the 2008 murder of Chicago police Officer Nathaniel Taylor. After officers erupted in cheers and spectators began filing out of the packed courtroom, Officer Bert Munguia remained, crying for 15 minutes. At first, he did so alone, but soon he had other officers beside him. They put their arms around his shoulders and told him to let it out. "We got your back," one said. The photo clutched by Munguia showed him, Taylor and several other fresh-faced cadets on the day they graduated from the academy in 1994. They were smiling, wearing blue department shirts, waiting to be given the police stars to pin on them. "We were like brothers," Munguia said later, still wiping tears from his eyes. "We did everything together. He had a heart of gold, and he was a good policeman." A Cook County jury took less than two hours to find Lamar Cooper, 40, guilty of first-degree murder for the slaying of Taylor, 39, a veteran narcotics officer who was trying to serve a warrant to search Cooper's fortified residence. Taylor's partner, Officer Lemornet Miller, returned fire, shooting Cooper nine times, but Cooper survived. Cooper's attorneys did not deny that their client sold drugs or that he shot Taylor but maintained he did not know he was a police officer and fired in self-defense in what he thought was an armed robbery. Taylor wore plainclothes but had his police star draped over his chest. Cooper, who has a previous conviction for attempted murder of a police officer, remained stone-faced as the verdict was announced. He faces a mandatory life sentence without the possibility of parole. Judge Nicholas Ford could impose the sentence on Feb. 28. "I'm just happy that Nate can finally rest in peace," Angel Gogins, the mother of Taylor's 9-year-old daughter, said as she left the Criminal Courts Building. After the shooting in September 2008, neighbors said Cooper was known as a devout Muslim often referred to as "Islam" who headed up the South Chicago block's neighborhood watch association and kept his lawn meticulous. They thought the surveillance cameras mounted on his property, the security fence and guard dogs were just safety measures in the high-crime neighborhood. But prosecutors called Cooper a big-time drug dealer whose heavily fortified home contained loaded guns hidden in hollowed-out books, police scanners, a bulletproof vest and a bag of cocaine in a basement freezer right next to a box of Popsicles. They also recovered keys to two bank safety-deposit boxes containing more than $260,000 in cash. Before closing arguments began earlier Thursday, extra benches were brought into the courtroom to try to accommodate the overflow crowd. While Chicago police Superintendent Garry McCarthy and State's Attorney Anita Alvarez watched from the front row, the judge ordered that the courtroom doors remain open so dozens more police officers could hear the lawyers from the hallway. Cooper's attorney LaFarrell Moffett argued that on the darkened street that early Sunday morning, his client could not have seen Taylor's police star and believed that the burly, plainclothes officer was a robber creeping up on his car from behind. "As a drug dealer in the streets of Chicago, he knew his life was always one step away from being over because people wanted his money or his turf or both," Moffett said. But Assistant State's Attorney James McKay told jurors it was "in the job description" of any successful drug dealer to know how police operate, including that narcotics officers often wear street clothes. "He didn't want to go to jail," McKay said. "It's real simple." As McKay ended his argument, a flat screen TV displayed a department-issued photograph of Taylor grinning widely, his police cap tipped forward on his brow. Friends said the photo captured the ex-Marine and devoted father who was patient with everyone, taking the time to hear out even the most hardened criminal. Munguia said he'll never forget the morning his phone rang and he learned of Taylor's shooting. The friends had been sent to work in different districts in the city's most dangerous neighborhoods. But they grew closer personally, sharing tales from the street, laughing about the craziness of the job, talking about their young families, Munguia said. His children knew Taylor as "Uncle Nate." "We thought we were going to retire together, grow old together," Munguia said. - --- MAP posted-by: Richard R Smith Jr.