Thousands mourn NYPD Officer Jonathan Diller at funeral in Massapequa
This story was reported and written by John Asbury, Matthew Chayes, Arielle Dollinger, Joseph Ostapiuk and Joe Werkmeister.
Before Monday, the Dillers were a typical Long Island family with a toddler: Stephanie was a nurse; Jonathan, an NYPD cop.
“He was excited that Ryan’s first word was ‘Dada,’ and I remember I would playfully try to get him to say ‘Mama’ instead," Stephanie recalled Saturday at Jonathan's funeral, five days after her husband was shot dead in Far Rockaway, Queens. "But now I never want to stop hearing Ryan say ‘Dada’ to me.”
As Stephanie spoke, her son was being cradled nearby.
When she finished that eulogy, thunderous applause rose from the thousands of mourners inside and outside St. Rose of Lima Roman Catholic Church in Massapequa, where Diller, 31, was memorialized and posthumously promoted to detective, first grade. His new shield number is “110” — Ryan’s birthday.
The shooting of Diller, of Massapequa Park, happened Monday during a police confrontation with the occupants of a vehicle parked illegally in a bus lane.
"Our lives were pretty much perfect until five days ago when everything changed forever," Stephanie said.
“He wasn’t the type to sugarcoat anything, so I won’t sugarcoat this: This is devastating; it’s a devastating, senseless and tragic loss for so many — our family, our friends, and the entire city of New York," she said.
“With every hug that I’ve received I just picture each one is from Jonathan,” she said.
Diller, who was on the force for three years, had been assigned to the Queens South Community Response Team, an assignment he was on at the time of his slaying.
The NYPD has said the passenger, identified as Guy Rivera, 34, shot Diller in the torso, under his bullet-resistant vest. Rivera, who was then shot in the back by another officer, was charged Thursday with first-degree intentional murder of a police officer, attempted murder and two counts of second-degree criminal possession of a weapon.
The driver, Lindy Jones, 41, was arraigned Wednesday on felony weapons charges. Both men have long criminal records.
The NYPD has not said how an investigation into an illegally parked vehicle escalated into a confrontation that precipitated the shooting.
Among those who eulogized Diller were New York City Mayor Eric Adams and Police Commissioner Edward Caban.
“As part of the Community Response Team, we sent Jon out to restore order, to fight against lawlessness. We told him to go out there and make this city a better place to live, to work, and to raise a family. And that’s exactly what he did,” Caban said.
Caban recalled how after making a particularly good arrest, Diller would text his wife, “often with a bunch of smiley emojis.”
“He loved this work, and he was darn good at it,” Caban said, adding: “He was literally doing the work that we asked him to do, that we needed him to do, and he was making a real difference. He went toward the danger, he put himself in harm’s way. And he did it so that other New Yorkers wouldn’t have to.”
With the posthumous promotion, which Caban announced at the end of the eulogy, the family is eligible for greater death benefits. Of Diller's new shield number, Caban said, "It's fitting because more than anything, more than being a husband, a son, a brother or an NYPD cop, what Jon loved most in life was being Ryan's dad."
The Rev. Michael Duffy, of the Cathedral of St. Agnes in Rockville Centre — who presided over the wedding of Diller and Stephanie just a few years ago — delivered the homily.
“The city is mourning a cop, and the tens of thousands of police officers outside are mourning a brother in arms,” Duffy said. “But Stephanie and Ryan are mourning their everything.”
As police funerals often do, the service blended police and Catholic rites and drew crowds from afar.
By about 9:30 Saturday morning, a nearly mile-long stretch of Merrick Road began to fill with uniformed officers, a massive crowd moving toward the church.
NYPD officers wore black bands across their badges, and blue ribbons were affixed to poles throughout the neighborhood.
In the church parking lot, a truck outfitted with screens displayed rotating photos of Diller: smiling as he cradled his newborn son in one and posing in an NYPD helicopter alongside family in another.
American flags lined the perimeter of the church. Just inside, a poster included photos of Diller during his time in the NYPD.
Dozens of police motorcycles rolled along Merrick Road before the NYPD Emerald Society bagpipes and drum unit led the hearse to the church.
There, shortly after 10 a.m., a hush fell over the crowd as mourners prepared for the procession’s arrival. A woman’s voice broke the silence, saying: "Thank you to every one of you.”
NYPD officers carried Diller's coffin, draped in a green-and-white flag, past friends and family gathered outside the church. A procession of relatives followed the coffin inside.
A bagpipe could be heard playing "Amazing Grace" as clergy filed into the church at about 11:15, followed by mourners, just before the service began.
At the service, Adams recalled waking up for his morning prayers to ponder how to comfort Stephanie.
"Today we mourn the tragic death of one of our own, Police Officer Jonathan Diller, the husband to Stephanie, the father to young Ryan, hero to all New Yorkers and all Americans. The outpouring of grief for this young man is real and it is raw," Adams said.
Caban said mourners can find a measure of solace in the thousands of cops who joined the funeral and the scene outside.
“We are in darkness searching for answers to impossible questions, and the actual pain we feel is so much worse than anything we could have imagined,” he said.
Caban recalled how although Diller’s family has long been in public service — relatives in policing and firefighting — Diller's decision to become a cop was somewhat ironic to those who knew him well.
“The jokester who was never much for the rules would now be the one who defended them,” Caban said. “And how fortunate for the NYPD that he did.”
At 12:58 p.m., Diller’s coffin was carried from the front door of the church back to the hearse. Trumpeters played "Taps" while NYPD officers lining the street stood at attention.
Later, at St. Charles Cemetery in Farmingdale, dozens of officers formed orderly rows across from the grave site. The white-gloved officers saluted in unison.
Against the hum of traffic, bagpipe players began to play. Several officers carried Diller's coffin to the gravesite.
During a short service, Stephanie Diller stood amid a crowd of mourners. As it concluded, she stepped forward, took one long-stemmed, white flower and handed another to her son, whom she held in her arms.
She placed each flower on the coffin. She kissed her hand, touched the coffin, and then her son’s left cheek.
Before Monday, the Dillers were a typical Long Island family with a toddler: Stephanie was a nurse; Jonathan, an NYPD cop.
“He was excited that Ryan’s first word was ‘Dada,’ and I remember I would playfully try to get him to say ‘Mama’ instead," Stephanie recalled Saturday at Jonathan's funeral, five days after her husband was shot dead in Far Rockaway, Queens. "But now I never want to stop hearing Ryan say ‘Dada’ to me.”
As Stephanie spoke, her son was being cradled nearby.
When she finished that eulogy, thunderous applause rose from the thousands of mourners inside and outside St. Rose of Lima Roman Catholic Church in Massapequa, where Diller, 31, was memorialized and posthumously promoted to detective, first grade. His new shield number is “110” — Ryan’s birthday.
The shooting of Diller, of Massapequa Park, happened Monday during a police confrontation with the occupants of a vehicle parked illegally in a bus lane.
"Our lives were pretty much perfect until five days ago when everything changed forever," Stephanie said.
“He wasn’t the type to sugarcoat anything, so I won’t sugarcoat this: This is devastating; it’s a devastating, senseless and tragic loss for so many — our family, our friends, and the entire city of New York," she said.
“With every hug that I’ve received I just picture each one is from Jonathan,” she said.
Diller, who was on the force for three years, had been assigned to the Queens South Community Response Team, an assignment he was on at the time of his slaying.
The NYPD has said the passenger, identified as Guy Rivera, 34, shot Diller in the torso, under his bullet-resistant vest. Rivera, who was then shot in the back by another officer, was charged Thursday with first-degree intentional murder of a police officer, attempted murder and two counts of second-degree criminal possession of a weapon.
The driver, Lindy Jones, 41, was arraigned Wednesday on felony weapons charges. Both men have long criminal records.
The NYPD has not said how an investigation into an illegally parked vehicle escalated into a confrontation that precipitated the shooting.
Among those who eulogized Diller were New York City Mayor Eric Adams and Police Commissioner Edward Caban.
“As part of the Community Response Team, we sent Jon out to restore order, to fight against lawlessness. We told him to go out there and make this city a better place to live, to work, and to raise a family. And that’s exactly what he did,” Caban said.
'He loved his work'
Caban recalled how after making a particularly good arrest, Diller would text his wife, “often with a bunch of smiley emojis.”
“He loved this work, and he was darn good at it,” Caban said, adding: “He was literally doing the work that we asked him to do, that we needed him to do, and he was making a real difference. He went toward the danger, he put himself in harm’s way. And he did it so that other New Yorkers wouldn’t have to.”
With the posthumous promotion, which Caban announced at the end of the eulogy, the family is eligible for greater death benefits. Of Diller's new shield number, Caban said, "It's fitting because more than anything, more than being a husband, a son, a brother or an NYPD cop, what Jon loved most in life was being Ryan's dad."
The Rev. Michael Duffy, of the Cathedral of St. Agnes in Rockville Centre — who presided over the wedding of Diller and Stephanie just a few years ago — delivered the homily.
“The city is mourning a cop, and the tens of thousands of police officers outside are mourning a brother in arms,” Duffy said. “But Stephanie and Ryan are mourning their everything.”
As police funerals often do, the service blended police and Catholic rites and drew crowds from afar.
By about 9:30 Saturday morning, a nearly mile-long stretch of Merrick Road began to fill with uniformed officers, a massive crowd moving toward the church.
NYPD officers wore black bands across their badges, and blue ribbons were affixed to poles throughout the neighborhood.
In the church parking lot, a truck outfitted with screens displayed rotating photos of Diller: smiling as he cradled his newborn son in one and posing in an NYPD helicopter alongside family in another.
American flags lined the perimeter of the church. Just inside, a poster included photos of Diller during his time in the NYPD.
Dozens of police motorcycles rolled along Merrick Road before the NYPD Emerald Society bagpipes and drum unit led the hearse to the church.
There, shortly after 10 a.m., a hush fell over the crowd as mourners prepared for the procession’s arrival. A woman’s voice broke the silence, saying: "Thank you to every one of you.”
NYPD officers carried Diller's coffin, draped in a green-and-white flag, past friends and family gathered outside the church. A procession of relatives followed the coffin inside.
A bagpipe could be heard playing "Amazing Grace" as clergy filed into the church at about 11:15, followed by mourners, just before the service began.
'Hero to ... all Americans'
At the service, Adams recalled waking up for his morning prayers to ponder how to comfort Stephanie.
"Today we mourn the tragic death of one of our own, Police Officer Jonathan Diller, the husband to Stephanie, the father to young Ryan, hero to all New Yorkers and all Americans. The outpouring of grief for this young man is real and it is raw," Adams said.
Caban said mourners can find a measure of solace in the thousands of cops who joined the funeral and the scene outside.
“We are in darkness searching for answers to impossible questions, and the actual pain we feel is so much worse than anything we could have imagined,” he said.
Caban recalled how although Diller’s family has long been in public service — relatives in policing and firefighting — Diller's decision to become a cop was somewhat ironic to those who knew him well.
“The jokester who was never much for the rules would now be the one who defended them,” Caban said. “And how fortunate for the NYPD that he did.”
At 12:58 p.m., Diller’s coffin was carried from the front door of the church back to the hearse. Trumpeters played "Taps" while NYPD officers lining the street stood at attention.
Later, at St. Charles Cemetery in Farmingdale, dozens of officers formed orderly rows across from the grave site. The white-gloved officers saluted in unison.
Against the hum of traffic, bagpipe players began to play. Several officers carried Diller's coffin to the gravesite.
During a short service, Stephanie Diller stood amid a crowd of mourners. As it concluded, she stepped forward, took one long-stemmed, white flower and handed another to her son, whom she held in her arms.
She placed each flower on the coffin. She kissed her hand, touched the coffin, and then her son’s left cheek.
Updated now Newsday investigation: Suffolk cop back on duty ... Newsday's All Long Island Football team ... What's up on LI ... Get the latest news and more great videos at NewsdayTV
Updated now Newsday investigation: Suffolk cop back on duty ... Newsday's All Long Island Football team ... What's up on LI ... Get the latest news and more great videos at NewsdayTV