Survivor Stories of the Washington State Law Enforcement Memorial

He learned from a young age that the world was big. He was fascinated to learn that people around the world have different backgrounds and cultures. He also learned how geography transforms from one latitude and hemisphere to another.

And with that instilled passion for the natural world, he wanted to see it all. Traveling was a must for him, but dying at 35 prevented him from the opportunity of traveling to so many places he wanted to go.

His death left an empty void that will never be filled. A lesion in the soul that will never heal.

His absence became his presence, and in the reframing of what his absence means, his presence is with me wherever I go and in various memorial walls.

He was cremated, and in the quiet reality that his ashes hold what remains of his physical being, I carry him with me throughout the world. He now takes afterlife visits, always one-way trips.

His first afterlife intercontinental trip with me was to Japan; his ashes were spread in the north Pacific Ocean, in Kamiiso-no-Torii, in Oarai. Kamiiso-no-Torii is a seaside shrine that represents the gate where the gods landed. It felt like the perfect place.

Many natural landscapes now hold my son. The Golden Gate Strait connecting San Francisco Bay to the Pacific Ocean, the Mediterranean, the Irish Sea, the North Sea, the Aabenraa fiord in Denmark connecting to the Baltic Sea. He returned to his beloved Caribbean Sea, along the coast where he was born and raised. A true Caribeño he was.

In many rivers he’s in: the Columbia as a symbol of his immigration to the United States. Quinault River in the Olympic National Park, the Seine in Paris, the Thames in London, the Ems and the Elbe in Germany, the Bernesga in Spain, the Don in Canada, the Brúará in Iceland.

The mountains that he was so passionate about, have received him. North, Central, and South Cascades in the Pacific Northwest. Facing his beloved Mt. Tahoma/Rainier. And most importantly, his sacred mountain, Waraira Repano, the Avila, the mountain that guards his city of birth, Caracas.

Lake Quinault, Nordrum Lake in Washington State. Special city places: the Champs-Élysées in Paris, which, in Greek mythology, represents the paradise where heroes rest after death. The Valhalla of the Greeks.

Loyola, Spain, on the grounds where his spiritual guide, St. Ignatius of Loyola, was born.

And then there are memorial walls. The National Law Enforcement Officers Memorial, in Washington, D.C. The Spokane Law Enforcement Wall, The Honor Always Memorial Wall, in Blaine, Washington. The Kent Police Department Plaque.

Last but not least. The Washington State Law Enforcement Memorial Wall. A wall that has become a sacred place for us. His remains are not here, but his presence is so tangible that I feel I could reach out to him, because these walls perhaps represent his burial place.

It feels like he is an integral part of this place. The place where we stop, sit in front of it to reflect, where we bring flowers, cards, a candle.

Where I touch one by one, the letters that form his beautiful name, DIEGO MORENO.

The memorial walls anchor us to the legacy of what his duty was.

A duty that he took seriously and passionately.

A duty that he knew could cost him his life, and sadly, it did.

In his own words: “Any one of my coworkers would die to protect me, and I would die to protect them.”

His physical remains will flow forever through mountains, valleys, rivers, lakes, and oceans.

His spiritual duty endures forever, carried through the memorial walls that keep his name alive.

The essence of the Washington State Memorial motto is not written in vain.

Diego’s duty was to serve. These walls bear the duty of remembering him.

— Lizzie Lee
(Mother – Diego Moreno – Kent Police Department – EOW 07.22.2018)