WEST HAVEN — Police officers honored a fallen colleague. Residents of West Haven remembered a favorite son. On Friday, thousands of people turned out at the West Haven Funeral Home to remember Robert Fumiatti, a New Haven police officer whose struggle to heal and return to work after being shot in the face during a 2002 drug raid inspired two communities.
Hundreds of officers from throughout the region came in dress uniform. Thousands of other people, transcending generations, waited for hours in the cold to say a final goodbye.
"Everywhere I go, Stop & Shop, ShopRite, everyone who walks into our office can’t believe what happened," said Laurie Kendall-Ellis, the owner Allied Health and Rehabilitation. "It’s really affected our whole town."
It was at her Campbell Avenue facility that Fumiatti endured months of intense physical and occupational therapy as he tried to regain use of his partially paralyzed arm. He continued to stop by even after his rehabilitation ended.
"Rob came here as a patient and became our friend," Kendall-Ellis said.
In some ways, Fumiatti’s death has been a reminder of how small Connecticut cities truly are.
West Haven teachers who know his children and work with his sister, a paraprofessional in the district, braved the cold for hours at the funeral home.
West Haven Mayor John M. Picard’s wife, Tara, is close friends with the Fumiatti family.
New Haven Mayor John DeStefano Jr.’s wife, Cathy, taught Fumiatti’s daughter, Caitlyn, at Seth G. Haley Elementary School on South Street in West Haven. DeStefano’s father served on the New Haven police force with Fumiatti’s father, Vincent, a 28-year veteran who retired in 1994.
Retired New Haven fire Capt. Edward Jooss stood in line for about five hours. The former head of the New Haven arson squad, he worked with the fallen officer’s father when the elder Fumiatti, a detective, was assigned to his unit.
Jooss’ son, Brian, and Fumiatti were childhood friends. Robert Fumiatti became a police officer following in his father’s footsteps; and Brian Jooss followed his father, joining the New Haven Fire Department.
Jooss said he wasn’t surprised by the turnout. There were generations of cops, firefighters, prosecutors and judicial marshals and teachers who knew one of the Fumiattis.
"We’re a small community of officers and our towns are small towns. We intersect in lots of ways," DeStefano said, reflecting after Fumiatti’s death. "He was born in New Haven, but he was a Westie."
Indeed, in West Haven, people still remembers Fumiatti’s heroics as a teenager when he was captain of the West Haven High School hockey team and led it to a state championship.
The team came to the wake in their West Haven hockey sweaters.
"He’s an amazing guy, to get shot in the face and to come back and want to be a cop again," said West Haven senior James Barbato, a goalie.
"He came to almost all of our games and gave some inspirational speeches in the locker room."
Fumiatti was shot in the face in June 2002 in the Hill neighborhood when he was the first out of an unmarked police van during a drug raid. The shooter is serving a 45-year sentence.
The 35-year-old father of three died Wednesday as a result of cardiac sarcoidosis. Sarcoidosis is an inflammatory disease that can affect any organ in the body.
The medical examiner concluded his death was not a result of the shooting, but New Haven city officials and members of the Police Department believe the two are linked.
The bullet entered his cheek, ricocheted off a molar and then tumbled down, cracking a vertebra before lodging near his spine. He was in cardiac arrest when fire paramedics arrived.
After surgery, he was fitted with a metal halo to keep his head immobile as he healed and spent months at Allied Health and Rehabilitation.
"Even in the halo, he was smiling, working hard, always up beat," said Kendall-Ellis.
He returned to the job in January 2004, but continued to return to the center. Last summer, he came in with his 2-year-old son, Vincent.
"They were wearing matching sandals, matching shorts, matching baseball hats. They were adorable. We were teasing him and Rob just gave me that big smile," Kendall-Ellis said.
After the shooting, Fumiatti started giving talks at high schools, colleges and at meetings with ex-convicts to share his story and caution about the dangers of drugs and guns. At the time of his death, he was assigned to the gun unit.
In the four years since his shooting, his life intersected with many people.
News even reached Texas.
Dr. Juan Bartolomei, a neurosurgeon who operated on Fumiatti at Yale-New Haven Hospital hours after he was shot, recalled being in awe of the camaraderie and character of the police officers and firefighters he met in the days and months after the shooting.
He started making house calls to the Fumiattis’ home for follow-up visits and became a family friend, he said in a telephone interview.
Now in private practice in Texas, he called Fumiatti’s wife, Stacey, after learning of the death Wednesday.
"I am devastated. Rob and his family were the model family," Bartolomei said. "Like I told Mrs. Fumiatti, I wish I could be there so I could help her and help them because I really miss them."
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