The Cripple Creek Shooting: June 7th, 1980 (revised October 2020)
From the time we are born, we begin to form our values; what we believe in and what is important to us. Parents, religion, friends, work and family environment are some of the many variables that help create who we are today. Just when we think we have it all figured out, events happen in our lives which can challenge, change or reinforce those beliefs. One such incident occurred early in my law enforcement career.
I began my career with the Garden Grove Police Department as a reserve officer in January 1977 and went full time 2 years later. As a former reserve officer turned full time, I had a special place in my heart for the reserve officers of Garden Grove. I had become especially close to Reserve Officer Dwight Henninger. He was the stereotypical California male. He was a blond haired, blue eyed young man, tanned and good looking, but Dwight was also a young, college educated gentleman who carried himself with quiet confidence. As a new reserve officer, he was required to ride with a full-time officer until he accrued enough hours and experience to ride solo. For some reason, he and I hit it off as partners, and he chose to ride with me whenever he could. I remembered vividly my positive training experience with the officers who trained me; Mike Walker, Jeff Raupp and Frank White. I was determined to treat Dwight with the same respect I was afforded and to train Dwight to the best of my ability.
You get to know a person when you ride with them ten hours a day. You have a tendency to talk about family, life, religion, and many other topics that are not police related. Consequently, you know the person as more than just a fellow employee. As police officers, you develop a sense of responsibility toward each other. With Dwight, I was the teacher and he was the student. While assigned to me, he was my responsibility. As his Field Training Officer, it was my responsibility to teach Dwight how to handle calls for service, how to write a police report, and how to handle the many aspects of being a police officer.
The Garden Grove Police Department had what was called a Warrant Service detail. One full time officer was assigned as the "Warrant Officer," to locate and serve arrest warrants. Larry Davis, an experienced officer who was also a sniper on the SWAT team was designated as the Warrant Officer. Because serving an arrest warrant had the potential for danger, reserve officers were assigned to work with Larry. When I was a reserve officer, I worked with Larry on many occasions as we drove throughout Orange County serving warrants on suspects who failed to appear in court on various charges. As a reserve officer, Dwight Henninger had also worked with Larry on warrant service details.
On Saturday, June 7, 1980, I was assigned to the swing shift and our ten-hour shift began with a 4:00 pm briefing and ended at 2:00 am in the morning. As Dwight and I sat in briefing, Sergeant Gary Walker distributed a flyer on a suspect by the name of “Mink,” also known as John George Brown and also known as Gordon Lee Mink. Mink had a narcotic warrant for his arrest based on a case that involved one of our narcotic officers, John Robertson. The flyer indicated Mink was a member of the Hessian outlaw motorcycle club. A photograph of Mink, as well as a vehicle description and partial license plate was also listed on the flyer. As I studied the flyer, Dwight told me we should try and find Mink. Earlier in the week, he and Larry Davis had gone to an address in Garden Grove where Mink was known to frequent. They did not locate Mink, and Dwight told me Mink was one person who needed to be taken into custody. I assumed Dwight was referring to the fact the flyer it indicated Mink was probably armed and would run or resist to avoid being taken into custody. When briefing was over, Dwight and I decided to go to the residence to see if we could locate and arrest Mink.
We drove to the north alley of Woodbury, east of Dawson, and found Minks car parked in one of the carports. We looked in the car and saw it was unoccupied. I obtained the full license plate of the vehicle, and we parked our marked patrol unit in the alley east of Minks vehicle. I ran the license plate and it did not come back registered to Mink, but had a notation there was a new owner and to contact Sacramento Department of Motor Vehicles for further information. Technology at the time did not allow for immediate access to new owner information, and it was not unusual to take hours for the updated information to return. We decided to sit and see if Mink would enter his car and drive from the apartment complex. We would then make a traffic stop on the vehicle and take him into custody for the warrant. We had done it many times before without incident.
Because it was Saturday night, the radio was active. Calls for police service were beginning to dominate the airwaves, and I made the decision we should go back in service. We left the alley with Minks vehicle parked where it was, and we would try to come back later if activity in the city subsided. We went back into service and handled radio calls without any incidents worth mentioning.
Later during the evening, we were called to come back to the station to meet with Sergeant Gary Walker. Sgt. Walker had spoken to the Fountain Valley Police Department regarding an incident that occurred in Fountain Valley. They asked us to check the roller rink located in the southeast corner of Beach and GG Blvd. for a vehicle that had been involved. Sergeant Walker asked Dwight and me to handle the call and let him know if we located the vehicle.
We drove to the roller rink, which was located directly west of the Cripple Creek Bar. The roller rink was a popular spot for everyone on the weekend and there were many cars in the parking lot. The Cripple Creek Bar was a cowboy bar and equally as popular on the weekend. I decided to drive into the parking lot of the Cripple Creek Bar to begin our search for Fountain Valley’s vehicle. As I drove south bound into the parking lot from Garden Grove Blvd., Dwight immediately saw Minks vehicle parked and pointed it out to me. Because his vehicle was parked so close to the bar, we surmised that Mink was probably inside of the Cripple Creek and decided to investigate further. Our assignment for the Fountain Valley Police would have to wait.
I parked the police unit and called for an additional unit to respond and assist. Originally, Officer Steve Sanders was assigned the follow, but Officer Don Reed and his Reserve Officer partner Glen Overly were closer to our location and said they would handle the follow. When they arrived, they parked in the parking lot with us and we all met at the hood of one of the patrol cars. I showed Don and Glen the flyer with Mink’s photograph.
There were two sets of doors on the west side of the bar and Dwight and I decided to enter the north doors, just south of Garden Grove Blvd. Don and Glen entered the bar at the south doors, which were located about center of the west side of the building.
As Dwight and I walked into the bar, we were greeted by someone who checked and made sure no one under 21 entered. Jokingly, they asked if we had ID and I replied something to the effect of, “Not tonight,” and continued into the bar. A live band played country music and people were on the dance floor. I looked in the southwest corner of the bar, and saw Mink as he sat by himself. I recognized him immediately from his picture on the flyer. He wore a white cowboy and Dwight and I began to walk toward Mink. Don and Glen rendezvoused with us near the northeast portion of the raised platform where Mink sat. They too had seen Mink and Mink evidently saw us. He stood up and began to walk northbound from his table. I glanced around to see if any bar patrons were with Mink and it appeared that he was alone. Dwight and I walked along the east side of the raised platform, which had a small, 2-3-foot-high barrier around it. As I walked, I constantly scanned the interior of the bar to see if it appeared anyone would come to Mink’s aid. I took the lead, while Dwight walked behind me.
Don and Glen walked toward the door, which was located between the raised platform and the bandstand. They were going to intercept Mink before he had a chance to walk out the door. As I stepped onto the platform, I looked behind me and saw Dwight was no longer with me. I glanced toward Don and Glen and saw Dwight had gone to join them. The three of them stood by the door and waited for Mink. I was alone.
Mink was north of his table and I did a quick glance at his table and the surrounding area to make sure Mink didn’t have any associates in the bar that were following. When it appeared no one was going to come to his aid, I began to follow Mink. I constantly glanced to either side. This was a bar after all, and I was worried some of the more inebriated patrons may want to challenge us. I maintained a distance behind Mink and watched as he stepped off the platform and was met by Don, Glen, and Dwight. I was approximately 10 feet away and continued to walk toward Mink and the officers. The four of them were standing by the door where Don and Glen had entered the bar, and Don reached over and touched Mink by the elbow. He leaned into Mink and appeared to be saying something into Minks ear. Don had to lean into Mink because they were standing directly by the band. I found out at the trial that Don told Mink he wanted to talk to him outside and Mink appeared to be cooperating.
Mink, Don, Glen, and Dwight then began to walk toward the door. As Mink and the other three officers reached the door, I continued to look around to make sure none of Minks friends or any bar patrons would follow us outside. Alcohol has a way of making people act abnormally and I certainly did not want some drunk challenging us as we attempted to arrest Mink. As I reached the end of the platform, I heard what I thought were firecrackers exploding inside of the bar. My first impression was that some drunk bar patron thought it would be funny to set them off with the cops inside the bar.
I stepped off the platform and tripped on someone’s leg and fell to my knees. I looked down and saw that Glen was lying on his stomach and I was kneeling on the back of his calves. A quick glance revealed that Don and Dwight were also face down on the floor. There was a moment of confusion and I thought to myself, “Why are they on the floor and where is Mink?”
I saw a small, pool of blood as it began to form on the lower left back of Glen’s light blue uniform shirt and I suddenly realized that he had been shot. I grabbed my radio and put out a “998” which means an officer had been involved in a shooting and we needed help.
After I had put the call out, Don, Glen, and Dwight and I struggled to our feet and went out the door. By the time I followed, Don had collapsed onto his left side and Glen had propped himself in a sitting position against the building, just south of the door.
I went over to Don and rolled him onto his back and I saw his face was completely covered in blood. I was confused, because the excessive amount of blood gave me the impression he had been hit with a shotgun blast. The shots in the bar seemed like firecrackers, indicative of a small caliber weapon…but, where did all the blood come from? I told Don to hang on and help was on the way.
I looked around and saw Dwight kneeling by a car with his right arm dangling helplessly at his side. He had his revolver in his left hand. I ran to him and I asked him if he had been hit. He said he had been struck in the right arm. A small, trickle of blood was making its way down his right arm and I told him to stay put and said we’re “out of this,” meaning we would wait for help to arrive. As I spoke to Dwight, Don turned toward Glen and said something to the effect of, “I’m not going to make it.”
I ran back to Don and when I looked at him again, his eyes had glazed over and his lifeless eyes stared into the Saturday evening sky. He was gone. I was stunned and felt absolutely helpless.
I was brought back to focus when Glen yelled he too had been struck. I told him we were going to wait for help. Mink was nowhere to be found. Bar patrons tried to leave the bar, but Glen’s quick thinking kept witnesses from leaving. Originally, bar patrons began to run out the door where Glen had leaned against the building. Glen realized the patrons were possible witnesses and dragged himself over to the door and propped himself against the door, which prevented people from opening the door. The patrons who did manage to leave the bar screamed there were additional shooting victims in the bar.
Other officers arrived, as well as paramedics and a search for Mink continued. Mink was able to fire eight rounds from a handgun, and all eight rounds found victims. Police officers from Garden Grove, Westminster, Anaheim, California Highway Patrol and other agencies poured into the area. Garden Grove paramedics quickly arrived on scene and began to render first aid to Glen, Dwight and two bar patrons. Don Reed was pronounced dead at the scene.
When other officers arrived and secured the scene, a sergeant assigned me the responsibility of making sure no vehicles entered or exited the parking lot. Glen and Dwight had been taken away by ambulance. I couldn’t have been more than 50 feet from Don’s uncovered body. I tried not to look at Don and I wondered how Dwight and Glen were doing. During the course of the next hour or so, people would yell and curse at me from their car, because they wanted to leave the parking lot. In the meantime, my mind was a collage of emotions as I tried to come up with an approach that would not have resulted in a shooting. What had I done wrong? I was responsible for this entire incident. Don had died, Glen and Dwight were shot and as I was to discover later, Mink’s bullets had struck two bar patrons.
Eventually, my lieutenant, Stan Knee, arrived at the scene and had another officer assigned to my position. Stan and I then drove back to the police station. The ride back was eerily silent compared to the chaos at the shooting scene. Stan had turned off the police radio in his car and we sat in silence. I actually heard Stan breathing in and out as we drove east bound on Garden Grove Blvd. After what seemed like an eternity, he told me, “You did everything that you could have.” At that moment, nothing anyone could say or do would convince me what he said was true. This was my fault. I was alone with my thoughts. If Stan said anything else during the ride to the station I either did not hear it or I blocked it out. I have no recollection of any other words being said.
I didn’t leave the station until sunrise and drove home. That day was spent without sleep and I sat in a chair staring blankly at nothing in particular. Then, without warning, I would begin to cry, sometimes with uncontrollable sobs. When the crying subsided, I stared silently straight ahead until the crying started again. It was a vicious, repetitive cycle that occurred for nearly two days.
Added to the guilt of feeling responsible for what had occurred, was confusion. This isn’t how it was on TV or the movies. TV or movie cops shoot people and then go out dancing or go home to family and kids as if nothing happened. They went to bars and had drinks with fellow cops and would toast a fallen officer. Nobody cried. Nobody felt guilty. I was convinced that I was losing it. I was going crazy. I wasn’t cut out to be a cop after all.
I recall vividly my visit to Dwight in the hospital as he recovered from his wound. I was his FTO (Field Training Officer) and although Mink pulled the trigger, I could not help but feel responsible for Dwight’s injuries. Seeing Dwight in the hospital bed was a difficult encounter for me. I felt completely uncomfortable and out of place, for I should have been in that bed, not Dwight. I was responsible for Dwight and the other officers. I constantly wondered what I could have done differently to prevent the shooting.
I experienced what is referred to as “survivor’s guilt.” My brother Roger was killed in Vietnam, but I finished my tour in the army without a scratch. Then, while trying to walk a wanted suspect out of a bar, one officer was killed, two officers and two bar patrons were critically wounded, yet, I escaped without a scratch.
Everything I had ever learned from TV and movie cops was thrown out the window. A police psychologist, Dr. Blum helped me to realize I was not alone in my feelings and that many officers involved in shootings or other traumatic incidents experience the same feelings I had encountered. It was natural he assured me, and something I needed to deal with. I was not going crazy. I would survive.
Eventually, I was able to work through the guilt with the assistance of fellow officers and Dr. Larry Blum. One fellow officer, Gene Favilla, told me to stay away from alcohol and told me about his shooting. I followed his advice. It was a most difficult time in my life, and one that changed my law enforcement personality. I am glad I was with a police agency so far from Minnesota. I cannot imagine the anguish my parents would have endured had they known how serious the event was. Ten years earlier, they had lost Roger in Vietnam. I’m probably being a little dramatic, but I wonder how close they came to losing me June 7, 1980.
Paramedic Willie Dumas, a good and dear friend, later told me Don had been struck by two bullets and one had nicked his aorta. He said even if they had been on scene immediately after Don was shot, it was unlikely they would have been able to save him.
Glen had been struck by three bullets; two to the upper body and one to his hand. Dwight had been struck in his right arm, but fortunately, he was left-handed. One bar patron was stuck between the eyes and another in the buttocks.
As was procedure for a homicide of this magnitude, Garden Grove Police Detectives responded to the scene and established a command post in a bank parking lot located on the east side of the Cripple Creek Bar. Patrons of the bar were escorted from the bar and interviewed at the command post. Most patrons did not witness the actual shooting, while others provided bits and pieces of information. At approximately 1:30am, detectives interviewed a witness who saw Mink duck into some bushes located near the n/e corner of the bar. The detectives had officers check the bushes for possible evidence and found Mink hiding. He still had the weapon, a .22 caliber Ruger with him, but had not reloaded.
Mink was convicted in 1982 of murder and sentenced to death. His conviction was overturned on a technicality and in 2000, he was retried and once again found guilty and sentenced to death a second time.
Don was buried with full police honors, and Don, Glen, and Dwight were awarded the Garden Grove Police Department Medal of Courage for their actions that evening. Dwight and Glen remained alert and vigilant, not knowing if Mink would return. They did not panic and remained calm and professional, even though they both had been shot.
In the end, I believe I became a more empathetic and effective officer. Dr. Blum suggested Garden Grove Police Officer Fred Aiken and I visit other police departments to share our experiences. Earlier in Fred’s career, a sniper had shot and seriously wounded Fred. Although our experiences were uniquely different, the feelings and emotions we dealt with later were very similar. Our stories would provide insight into what officers might experience if they were involved in a traumatic event. As time went on, our incidents became ancient history and were replaced with more recent officer involved shootings and our visits to other police departments came to an end.
The down side to my involvement with Fred and visiting other departments, was I developed a reputation for being a “sensitive” type of person. To be labeled a “sensitive” cop can be a career ending title and it followed me throughout my career. I suppose it didn’t help when approximately two years after the shooting, I became a member of the Hostage Negotiation Team and eventually the supervisor.
It was a chapter in my police career never to be repeated. As officers, we were trained for worse case scenarios and looked forward to the day when we would be tested. I was no different. I wanted to be tested to see if I would remain calm and take control. To see if I had what it took to face the very worst of police work and survive. Well, I had been tested; I passed and never had nor desired to take the test again.
Glenn and Dwight recovered from their wounds and had successful careers in law enforcement. Glenn became a full-time officer after graduating with honors from the police academy. He was an officer and an investigator for the Garden Grove Police Department before transferring to the Orange County District Attorney’s Office as an investigator.
Dwight became a full-time officer with the City of Irvine and was hired by the Laguna Beach Police Department as a Lieutenant and eventually promoted to Captain. At the time of this writing, he was serving as Chief of Police for Vail, Colorado.
Brown was sentenced to death in Orange County on June 11, 1982 for the murder of 27-year-old Garden Grove Police Officer, Donald F. Reed.
Epilogue: July 7, 2019: SAN QUENTIN – According to the CDCR, condemned inmate John George Brown, 71, was found unresponsive in his prison cell on July 7. The medical staff performed CPR but were unsuccessful. He was pronounced dead at 6:47 p.m.
* * * *
