Officer Charles “Charlie” Herring had a jolliness that was infectious, friends and family members say, even when he was a teenager growing up in Williston.
Herring and his close friend, Del Aqui, would suffer through high school football practices together, Aqui recalled. The football coach was also a track coach, which meant practices involved a lot of running in Williston’s humid, rainy weather.
But by the time he would reach the 5-yard line, Herring was already there, Aqui said, picking him up and making sure he got water.
“He was the guy who cheered you on,” Aqui said, “even though you were about to die from the heat.”
Herring, 54, a Pembroke Pines Police officer for 22 years, died Thursday in what many are calling a “freak accident” after a palm frond fell from a tree and knocked him off of his motorcycle.
The accident occurred about 11:30 a.m. on 184th Avenue, just south of Sheridan Street, according to the Pembroke Pines Police. Herring was taken to Memorial Regional Hospital where he was pronounced dead.
Herring is the first officer in the city’s history to die in the line of duty.
Herring’s squad car sat parked outside the police department Friday night as mourners gathered for a candlelight vigil. People lined up to sign Herring’s cruiser with permanent marker. Others solemnly embraced.
Capt. Christopher Sengelmann encouraged those who have memories with Herring to share them in the coming days, with one other, with Herring’s family and people who didn’t get a chance to meet him.
“There are so many stories about Charlie Herring, from his couple phobias he might have to interactions with naked people on motorcycles,” Sengelmann said, giving the audience a moment of comic relief.
Two smiling photos of Herring, one of him on his motorcycle, were positioned on either side of a display of roses. Flags were flying at half staff.
Among those at the vigil were two wives of Herring’s fellow officers.
Elina Seguin, whose husband is retired Officer Melvin Seguin, described Herring as a “teddy bear.”
“Just a sweet sweet man. And he loved his motorcycle. He loved what he did,” Seguin said.
Dianne Cusack said her husband Officer John Cusack worked on the department’s Crisis Response Team with Herring.
“Every time you saw him, he was always giving you a huge hug. His smile lit up the room. He was always there for everyone,” she said.
Working for the community was what Herring loved about his job, Cusack said. Cusack’s husband was injured on duty five years ago. Herring was the man who helped him “get back to work, to doing what he loved.”
“This one’s a hard one,” Cusack said.
Sengelmann, who started his law enforcement career about the same time as Herring two decades ago, spoke to the crowd, eliciting a laugh when he shared Herring’s nickname.
“He always wanted to do police work. He was an incredible cop, but he had a soft side, so much so that he earned the nickname ‘pudding,'” Sengelmann said.
Officer Joseph Brown recalled two words Herring often told him: “No pressure.” Herring would always say them before something difficult, Brown said. “He would always say that just so I could remain focused on the task. So I think that is what we should do. We should focus on the task,” Brown said. “But how can we focus in a time like this? And what should we focus on?”
He focused then on words people used to describe Herring: giving, jolly, gleeful, delightful, merry. The list went on.
If Herring were here, Brown said he’d understand their grief. But then he’d say, “No pressure.” “Because he would want us to focus on the task; the task of healing,” Brown said.
Herring had served in the U.S. Army, then spent three years in Starke as an officer before joining the Pembroke Pines Police Department in 2001, according to a news release from the department.
He was also a father of four kids, a jokester, a lover of motorcycles and quiz bowl, a person to go to if you needed help, and just “a jolly good old boy,” as his friend and former fellow Pembroke Pines Police officer, Sean Yap, described him.
Herring was one of Aqui’s first friends in grade school when he moved to Williston from North Dakota, helping him feel more comfortable. They attended Williston High School together, where Herring was captain of the football team.
“The whole town loved that guy,” Aqui said.
Herring later attended college in Ohio, served in the Army, then returned to Florida, where he worked as a bouncer at a bar in Gainesville. While there, he met Wendy Hand, a bartender there at the time, according to Kathy Hess, Hand’s mother. The two began a relationship, and Hand gave birth to Herring’s firstborn child, Hunter Herring, now 24.
“I liked him immediately,” Hess said. She said her daughter would tell her about how great of a person he was, and how funny he was.
“You could say something so simple, and he could make it so funny,” Hess said.
Herring and his son had a tradition called “cook-offs” at Herring’s parents’ house. Twice a year, the two would get together and have a barbecuing competition with friends and neighbors as the judges. Hess said the cook-offs continued, even as her grandson got older.
When she heard the news of his death, she was shocked.
“I just can’t believe he’s gone,” she said. “Because you think when they’re a police officer, it’s going to be something really really bad, some crime that takes them, not some freak accident like this.”
Herring started at Pembroke Pines as a patrol officer in 2001, when Yap met him, the former Pembroke Pines officer said. They worked together for 17 years; Yap retired in 2018.
He liked fishing with his kids, Yap said. Herring had three other children after Hunter, two sons now ages 18 and 19 and one daughter, 10, who is a student at Sheridan Park Elementary School. He is also survived by his wife.
Chief Kipp Shimpeno said at the vigil that Herring’s family, the police department that was a family to Herring, too, and the community have difficult days ahead.
“We won’t ever do enough to really truly honor what he’s done for all of us … He’s a hero. I don’t know if anyone’s ever said that to his children, that dad is a hero. But I’m glad to be able to say that. Because he is,” Shimpeno said, looking at Herring’s family members who stood behind him, holding one another. His daughter hugged a teddy bear.
