VIVIAN ENEY
Vivian Cross was on her way home from work when she got a call. The panicked voiced on the other end of the line told her that Capitol Police Officers John Gibson and Jacob Chestnut had just been gunned down in a shootout inside the Capitol building.
Knowing that Vivian would find this news more disturbing than most, he also knew she would be in a unique position to help. When the caller asked Vivian if she would be willing to go directly to the hospital to help break the news to the families, she immediately made a u-turn and was on her way.
During her ride to the hospital, her thoughts raced back to the events of 14 years ago that would forever change her life.
Back in 1984, Vivian’s husband of 12 years, Capitol Police Sgt. Chris Eney, was not working his usual detail as a plainclothes detective on the chamber floor of the House of Representatives. Instead, he was engaged in a training exercise for an elite division of the Capitol Police known as the Containment Emergency Response Team (CERT).
Several years before, Eney and a group of his fellow officers had lobbied hard to get approval to establish a SWAT-like unit that would be prepared to handle critical incidents at the Capitol building. Their efforts had been successful and by 1984 the CERT group was considered an invaluable component of the Capitol Police organization.
On that day, the officers were planning how to handle an evacuation of the House floor if a terrorist was holding hostages. Everything was very routine. The exercises were going extremely smoothly and a few members were even hoping that they might finish early. That’s when the ultimate nightmare turned real-life.
One of Chris Eney’s fellow officers accidentally shot him. He was hit in the chest, fatally wounded.
Vivian got to the hospital before the families. "Helping to tell those families was the hardest thing I’ve ever done in my life," Vivian said. "But it was by far the most rewarding."
After spending hours at the hospital with the shocked and devastated families of John Gibson and Jacob Chestnut, Vivian finally got in her car for her ride home.
"I was just exhausted," she remembered. "It brought back so many really painful memories."
The next morning Vivian and her husband of one year, Gary Cross, turned on the television to see if they had caught the assailant. "I was especially worried about a long trial," she said. "I know how this can rip families apart."
The television was the first time she heard it. "Gibson and Chestnut were the first Capitol Police officers to die in the line of duty.
"I was dumbfounded," she continued. "How could they not know that Chris had been killed in the line of duty too?"
And this was just the beginning. Later Vivian would learn that two House resolutions, one allowing the slain officers to lie in state, the other renaming the document door where the gunman entered, the Chestnut-Gibson door, had paragraphs stating these two officers were the first to be killed in the line of duty in the 170 year history of the Capitol Police.
Vivian is quick to point out that she in no way wants to demean the heroism of Gibson and Chestnut. "They saved many lives by risking their own - and that’s true heroism, but by saying they were the first, it’s like Chris never existed."
The dramatic differences in the way the deaths were handled was painful for Chris Eney’s family.
"When Chris died, there were no procedures to deal with in-line-of-duty deaths," Vivian said. "We were really on our own, financially and emotionally."
After her husband was shot, Vivian was called at home and told Chris had been wounded and it didn’t look good.
"Today, you would never call with this sort of news," she said.
A young rookie picked her up and took her to the wrong hospital. When she finally arrived at the hospital, there were no police officials to greet her.
Their two daughters, Shannen, 11 and Heather, 9, were camping with Chris’s parents 100 miles away. "I knew there was no way they could drive safely if they knew their son had been shot, so I made up some story to get them and our girls home. I told them the news when they got here."
At that time there was no life insurance policy for Capitol police. Vivian soon learned that she would not be eligible for a Maryland death benefit either because Chris was not weapon certified in the state of Maryland." Chris did have a life insurance policy but it was only $20,000 and workman’s comp was paying only $20,000 a year.
The young widow was also denied her husband’s comp time, which added up to 1000 hours as well as his annual leave time, which came to 250 hours. And this was at a time when every law enforcement agency in the country would pay comp time to survivors of officers killed in the line of duty.
At that time the federal death benefit for law enforcement officers killed in the line of duty was $50,000, but ironically federal officers were excluded from the provision. An amendment was passed in 1985 to include federal officers and it was retroactive. The problem was, it was retroactive 37 days short of Chris Eney’s death.
But Vivan Eney dug in her heels and fought back. It took her two years, but she finally found a congressman, Thomas Foglietta from Pennsylvania, who was able to get a special act through Congress so Vivian Eney could receive the federal death benefit.
There were no funds to help defray the costs of Chris’s funeral not one member of the Congress or Senate attended. Despite Chris’s distinguished service as a medic for the Army Special Forces in Vietnam, no one suggested that he could be buried at Arlington National Cemetery.
The contrast in the way these most recent deaths were being handled was almost too much for Chris Eney’s family to bear. Gibson and Chestnut were laying in state, had all expenses for the funeral paid for, were being buried in Arlington and the families would enjoy the benefits of a $2 million memorial fund set up in memory of the two officers.
The one positive note was the support she received and continues to receive from the Capitol Police. "They have been just incredible. Even after all these years, they take such good care of us."
When Vivian remarried last year, two Capitol Police officers walked her down the aisle.
"In no way am I trying to take anything away from these officers and their families," Vivian emphasized. "But it’s like my husband’s life didn’t mean anything to them. He died protecting ‘the people’s house’ too."
Her strong feelings came as a bit of a shock. "I couldn’t believe I’m having such a strong reaction, 14 years later, "she said. "But every time I hear they were the first to die in the line of duty, it’s like a knife going right into my heart."
But Vivian is a fighter and she’s determined to wage a battle until the record is set straight.
On Labor Day she resigned her job of 10 years as exhibit manager for the International Association of Chiefs of Police (IACP). Armed with Chris’s death certificate and pictures of she and her daughters, she plans to hit Capitol Hill and lobby the Congress until the record has been corrected. "I’d like a joint resolution honoring the memory of Chris and acknowledging that he was the first Capitol Police officer to die in the line of duty.
"I’ve read the Congressional Record cover to cover. Everyone who said they’ll never forget is going to get a visit. They’ll hear from me that they did forget.
"I got the media to correct their story, but not members of Congress. I view this as a battle for every officer who dies doing his job no matter how it happens. These officers are the ones that guarantee our freedom. Sometimes the price of our freedom is a flag draped coffin. We need to honor that - all of them."