Slain officer's mother wants killer to 'rot in hell'

Almost three years have passed since Philadelphia Police Officer Moses Walker was gunned down just before dawn on the way home from his job as a turnkey at the 22d District.

That's a long time for grief, loss, and anger to simmer, and on Wednesday, his mother's anguish boiled over at the sentencing of his killer, Rafael Jones.

"I pray that you rot in hell," said Wayne Lipscomb, fighting back tears during her victim-impact statement before Common Pleas Court Judge Jeffrey P. Minehart.

Lipscomb, wearing a blue T-shirt memorializing her oldest son, one of seven siblings, said, "I wear this T-shirt - and I should not have to wear this T-shirt with my son's name on it - because Rafael Jones shot my son."

Minehart sentenced Jones, 25, to life in prison without parole, a penalty that was never in doubt - the sentence is mandatory under Pennsylvania law for first-degree murder.

There was only one reason to delay Jones' sentencing from Dec. 11, when he was found guilty, until Wednesday: to let Lipscomb and others who knew and loved Walker, 40, vent their anguish at the loss of the 19-year police veteran, friend, and relative.

Police Officer Ryan Saunders, the first officer on the scene shortly before 6 a.m. Aug. 18, 2012, and who cradled the dying Walker in his arms, could not control the tears even after waiting a full 10 seconds before speaking.

Saunders apologized to Walker's mother: "At times I feel I could have done something more to save him. I wasn't able to do enough."

Later he added:

"I want her [Lipscomb] to know that I'm sorry," Saunders said. "At least he didn't die alone."

Afterward, Lipscomb stood and embraced Saunders as he made his way back through the capacity crowd of more than 100 in the courtroom gallery.

Assistant District Attorney Jude Conroy, who tried the case with prosecutor Brian Zarallo, read aloud a letter from Marjie Williams and Milton Westray, Walker's first cousins, who described him as a loving, supportive man who was a mentor to many and a deacon in his church.

Their letter said Walker's death was especially hard for his family because Walker's father and a brother were "lost to violence."

No one but defense attorney Michael Coard spoke for Jones, but not about the life sentence, inasmuch as it was mandatory. "I won't waste the court's time," Coard told Minehart.

Coard said Jones, dressed in prison blues, hands and ankles shackled, slouching in his chair, will appeal his conviction and sentencing.

Before he was sentenced, Jones spoke briefly, questioning the judge about his authority to sentence him.

Minehart dismissed the question and said Jones could raise it on appeal. He then imposed the mandatory life term and a consecutive 231/2 to 47 years on Jones' convictions for robbery, conspiracy, and a weapons count.

"Here we have an officer who had done his work, done his duty, was minding his own business and listening to music, and he's gunned down," Minehart said.

"I heard no remorse," he added, "and I don't think you felt remorse the morning you killed Officer Moses Walker."

Jones agreed to the nonjury trial in exchange for the District Attorney's Office's not seeking a death sentence.

Minehart found that Jones - a probationer free just 10 days - was the gunman who with Chancier McFarland accosted, robbed, and shot Walker at Cecil B. Moore Avenue at Woodstock Street in North Philadelphia as he walked to a bus stop.

McFarland, 22, pleaded guilty and testified against Jones in a plea deal for a 20- to 40-year prison term.

Walker was targeted, McFarland said, because he looked like a student from nearby Temple University, "an easy mark."

McFarland testified that Jones shot Walker after the officer turned to run and appeared to reach for a weapon. After Walker collapsed, McFarland said, he grabbed the officer's iPod and earphones, and he and Jones fled.