'There will never be another man like him:' Retired Police Chief Cel Rivera laid to rest

ELYRIA — Police officers, friends and family filled Lorain County Community College's Spitzer Conference Center to remember retired Lorain Police Chief Celestino "Cel" Rivera Jr. Rivera, 72, of Wakeman died unexpectedly June 22. He'd served the Lorain Police Department for 49 years, 25 of those as chief, before retiring in 2019. Lorain Police Capt. Roger Watkins called his longtime commander the most accomplished, and compassionate, man he's known — a sentiment echoed by others throughout the service. "His compassion inspired me as a police officer and a man more than any other man since my own father," Watkins said. Rivera spent countless hours at the police department, Watkins said, known to do everything humbly and without fanfare — from visiting a retired officer who was expressing thoughts of suicide, to donating his unused time off to those in the department in need. At Watkin's brother's funeral, he remembered Rivera and his wife, Elba Armstrong, quietly coming up and asking if the family needed help with funeral costs. Through his leadership, the Lorain Police Department moved forward from the old ways, the shades of perceived corruption, to the modern department it is today, Watkins said. Rivera's professional career started at the corner of Broadway and East Erie Avenue, where he picked up a bus to enlist in the Army in Cleveland and ended it more than five decades later, in an office 25 feet away from where it all began. He'd traveled thousands of miles — to Vietnam and back, following cases to other states — just to get back to where he'd started. What he left behind was the most well-trained municipal police department, Watkins said, and a host of stories spanning his career, his family, his experiences and his faith. Greater Victory Christian Ministry Pastor and Elyria Assistant Safety/Service Director Tim Williams said Rivera embodied truth — while the chief wasn't always right, when presented with facts he was easily corrected — and it was something he instilled in those who followed him. True leadership is developed through consistent practices and behaviors, Williams said, and Rivera walked and talked leadership as a relationship. "He always had a passion and a vision that we, collectively, could make our community better. He was able to speak that vision in a way that we could only share it, that it wasn't his, that it was ours collectively," Williams said. He would challenge bureaucratic processes and protocols, he said, and enabled others to act and grow as leaders. He also never lost hope in humanity, despite the violence he saw in his career. And he challenged those around him to be kind, considerate and respectful. "The chief encouraged our hearts. He had a level of humanity in a career that sees, that witnesses, the absolute lack of humanity," he said. "The chief had a way, even though faced with all the violence, all the death, he wasn't consumed by that. … The longer I knew chief, the more compassionate he became." In that compassion, he left his mark as a leader, father, husband, friend and servant to his community, Williams said. Rivera's nephew, U.S. Coast Guard Lt. David Figueroa, said family is the one thing his uncle loved more than being a cop — as exemplified by the number of nieces, nephews, cousins and other extended family filling the conference center. It didn't matter the relation, Rivera would take the time to call, text, offer advice and support as the "rock" of the family. Looking to the casket, draped in white, Figeuroa promised, "We'll get through this together. We'll make you proud, we'll carry on your traditional way of holding this family together." "Rivera strong" had become a mantra in the family in recent times, he said. It was something his uncle stood for, putting aside his time, and sometimes his health, to help those in need. "He didn't care about his own time, sometimes his own health, if somebody was in need, if he can go out there and volunteer some time, he was going to do it," Figueroa said. "He was going to take care of others. And we can see, from all of you, that he's done a hell of a job." In his homily, Sacred Heart Chapel Fr. Bill Thaden noted God has no list keeping score of a person's actions related to his calling, each person's judgment is how much they've related to God in their heart. The image of Rivera shared Tuesday exemplified that, calling on those in attendance to honor the longtime chief by imitating his life of service, healing, listening and reaching out to one another. "We honor the memory of Celestino 'Cel' Rivera Jr. Patriot and protector, servant of the community, advocate of the marginalized, voice for the voiceless," he said. "Beloved husband and father, brother, papa, uncle, our brother, our friend, compadre, may he rest in peace with Christ for you have shown us his loving heart." Mayor Jack Bradley said he met with Rivera before he took office — the chief was cleaning out his desk, getting ready to retire when he invited Bradley in to offer some "fatherly advice," despite just a couple years between the two in age. Bradley said Rivera wanted to start him out right as mayor, and later on when the time came for Bradley to appoint someone to the Lorain School's Academic Distress Commission, he couldn't think of anyone better than Rivera. "He was a humble, gentle man," Bradley said. He, and others in the city, had been working tirelessly on plans to revitalize the Hispanic Veterans Memorial at Oakwood Park, and Bradley promised the city will do something to honor Rivera. Once outside, an honor guard of officers, sheriff's deputies, dispatchers, medics, firefighters and military service members lined up, a bagpipe player mournfully playing "Amazing Grace," while Rivera's son-in-laws, stepson, grandsons and great-grandson escorted the casket to the awaiting hearse. Attendees were given Puerto Rican flags, many holding them out the window as the processional drove away. The funeral processional made a stop at the Lorain Police Department one last time, before Rivera's burial at Ridge Hill Memorial Park in Amherst. "What we are witnessing today is an end of an era," Watkins said during his testimonial. "In our lifetimes there will never be another man like him." Contact Carissa Woytach at (440) 329-7245 or cwoytach@chroniclet.com.