Remembering day of horror and heroism in Haddon Heights

It is known as the day Haddon Heights lost its innocence.

April 20, 1995.

John McLaughlin, 37, an investigator from the Camden County Prosecutor's Office, was fatally shot while trying to serve a search warrant at a borough home. Slain, too, was John Norcross, 24, a Haddon Heights police officer who was shot in the head as the suspect began firing onto a neighborhood street.

On Monday, the 20th anniversary of the shooting, family members and more than 150 police officers and residents came together to remember the men's lives.

"I try to not look at today as a day when we all lost something," said "Jack" McLaughlin's daughter Victoria, who was 8 when he died. Rather, she said, she wants to remember that he and other officers made the world better that day, if only a bit.

"These men are role models that everybody should look up to for inspiration," said Norcross' brother Richard, a former Haddon Heights police detective who was also shot multiple times during the incident on Sylvan Drive. He has had more than 20 surgeries related to his injuries.

One name he and others did not utter Monday: Leslie Nelson, who is serving a life sentence at the Edna Mahan Correctional Facility.

Nelson was suspected of child molestation, which is why officers went to her house. Her lawyer later said she became angry when the officers tried to take away her guns, which were locked in her bedroom.

A year before the incident, dozens of residents had protested a proposed raise for Haddon Heights officers, arguing that they dealt with few serious crimes in the quiet borough of leafy front lawns and two-story homes.

Then came April 20.

When McLaughlin was shot, news spread through the Camden County Prosecutor's Office like "wildfire," said Ron Moten, chief of detectives.

"I can still to this day hear the sirens everywhere," Moten said.

Haddon Heights Detective Sgt. Bruce Koch, one of the six officers who tried to execute the warrant at Nelson's home, recalled how quickly officers from nearly every agency in South Jersey responded.

"I remember looking behind me" immediately after the first shots, "and no one was there, and it was a very scary feeling," he said. "And then the next time I turned around, I saw dozens of officers."

What followed was 14 hours of gunshots, tear gas, and commands barked through bullhorns, ending only when Nelson surrendered early the next morning.

On Monday, Koch and others spoke next to the tall green clock along Station Avenue that is a memorial for McLaughlin and Norcross. Bagpipes played between the speeches as officers from Haddon Heights, Camden, Pine Hill, and other departments saluted.

"The last 20 years have caused our family to unite stronger than it ever could have been," McLaughlin's widow, Kim, 53, said after the service. She now lives in Haddon Heights, although she had bought a home with her husband and two daughters in Cherry Hill in the months before the shooting.

Richard Norcross, 49, recalled the life of his brother, describing him as an avid golfer and a Phillies fan.

"He knew all the players by their names and their stats," he said.

As he spoke, the bells of the memorial clock clanged. He paused, letting the sound sink in. A few minutes later, he concluded with a message:

"May we never place another name on this memorial."