City, law enforcement officers remember Dep. Tutino

MICHAEL COONS/Acorn Newspapers REMEMBERING-Lisa Tutino, left, and Marie McClure weep during a candlelight vigil for James Tutino at Simi Valley High School last week. Tutino, a police officer who was also an assistant football coach at Simi Valley High School, was one of 11 people who died in last week's Metrolink derailment in Glendale.

Deputy looked for the best in everyone

By Kyle Jorrey

jorrey@theacorn.com

It was repeated often this week, by both family and friends, that Los Angeles Sheriff’s Department Deputy and Simi Valley football coach James P. Tutino had a story for everything.

DAVID DUVARNEY/Acorn Newspapers A SOLEMN MARCH-Pallbearers carry the casket of Dep. James Tutino during a memorial service and burial on Tuesday. Services for the L.A. County Sheriff's Department peace officer were at St. Maximilian Kolbe Catholic Church and interment was at Pierce Bros. Memorial Park, both in Westlake Village. Tutino, a Simi Valley resident, was on his way to work when he was killed in the Metrolink train wreck last week in Glendale.

No matter what the situation, Tutino, who passed away in last Wednesday’s Metrolink tragedy in Glendale at the age of 47, had a tale to go along with it—a small snippet, a life lesson, something for listeners to take away with them when they left.

"He had a story for every single thing that happened," said Tutino’s son, Nick, 23. "If something got knocked off the table, if a car broke down . . . he had stories that would go on for days and days. But we would all just sit around and listen."

That’s because Tutino was not only a deputy and a coach, he was also a teacher. Not in a conventional classroom, but in the classroom called life, where Tutino’s 23 years with the sheriff’s department, the last 19 in the Los Angeles Men’s Central Jail, had taught him that respect for others was a vanishing commodity.

"Coach T," as his players knew him, lived to see others get the best out of themselves and out of life.

"The love that he had about trying to change people and make them a better person was just unbelievable," said James Jr., 25. "He always wanted people to know that there was another way, an option to be a better person. He always saw the best in everybody he met, even when they didn’t see it in themselves."

This past week, many of those whose lives Tutino had touched showed up to pay their respects to those he left behind: his wife, Rita; his sons, James Jr. and Nick; a stepdaughter, Michelle, 28; and a stepson, Michael, 26. Some visitors who came, Nick said, the family never knew existed.

"I knew my dad had a lot of contacts, but I had no idea he had an effect on so many lives," said Nick, who currently works at Wells Fargo bank in Simi Valley but has plans of following in his father’s footsteps and becoming a police officer. "The turnout we had, all the people that were there crying with us, all the stories we heard. . . . We just didn’t know how many people my dad had touched."

More than 700 people filled St. Maximilian Kolbe Church in Westlake Village for Tuesday’s funeral services, while a thousand more were forced to wait outside. Some (former and current players from Simi High) came in football jerseys, others (fellow members of the sheriff’s rodeo team) wore cowboy hats and buttoned up shirts, but the majority who attended wore the traditional colors of the Los Angeles Sheriff’s Department.

"As I got up to do my eulogy I looked out and all I could see was a sea of green and tan. That alone brought tears to my eyes," said Tony Tutino, Jim’s brother, a sheriff’s deputy working for Ventura County who followed his older sibling into law enforcement. "It’s a special brotherhood that he was a part of."

Jim Tutino worked at one of the country’s toughest jails doing outreach with incarcerated gang members. He was considered the resident expert in his field—the guy other deputies would come to for an answer to a question or a solution to a problem.

Longtime supervisor Sgt. Roger Ross, who worked with Tutino for 12 years, said at Monday’s vigil that he had lost a "partner, a best friend, a brother and a teacher." The department also lost one of its best cops.

"He was an almanac of gang information . . . without hesitation he could name the main players in each group and their rap sheet like a sports fan can name players on his favorite team and all their stats," Ross said. "Jim was a crook’s therapist . . . he showed them respect and he got that respect back . . . he joined their culture and learned to speak their language. Jim knew that in order to defeat the enemy you had to understand them first."

But when his day at the jail was done, Tutino loved returning to Simi to coach Pioneer football, something he’d done for the past 10 years.

There he was Coach T, but his philosophy was the same: give respect and get it back. He treated his players like young men, and he never lost sight of the fact that it was still just kids playing a game.

"Jim could light up the sidelines with his presence . . . no matter what was going on out on the field you could look at Jim and see that smile and everything seemed alright," said fellow Simi football coach Rosie Brown, who coached the junior varsity team with Tutino. "That goofy smile. You couldn’t dislike him because of that smile."

Even as Simi struggled to produce wins on the field, Tutino never stopped coaching his heart out and never stopped caring about the lives of each individual player. If a kid needed a car fixed, "Coach T," the consummate automobile guru, was there. Didn’t have money for cleats? Tutino would pitch in to make it happen.

"He didn’t care if you were 0-10 on the football field, he wanted you to be 10-0 in the game of life," Brown said at Monday’s vigil. "I take some solace in the fact that I know he’s in a better place now. Heaven’s got a good father, son and friend, and God, if you want to start a football team, you’ve got a good coach too."

But if you ask anyone, they’ll tell you that Tutino’s first love, ahead of his beloved Pittsburgh Steelers and his coveted Ford Mustangs, was his family. A kid at heart until the day he passed, Tutino always had a way of making them laugh, bringing sunshine into their lives even on Southern California’s rare cloudy days.

"The last time I saw him—and this is one of the greatest memories I have with my dad—was when I went to see him at his house to check how he was doing," Nick said. "He was sick and his knee was hurting him, and I show up at the door and he’s hiding in the kitchen. So I started talking with Rita and then he comes up behind me and scares the living hell out of me. That’s totally how he was, a complete goofball. . . . That’s the last memory I have of him, but it’s a great one, just to see him smiling and having a good time."

Tutino loved running, especially up hills. James Jr.’s most vivid memory comes from a recent outing he had with his father around Simi Valley. The two had run for miles while talking about life and love, when the younger Tutino started to tire and slowed down to a walk.

Looking back over his shoulder, the sunlight beaming in front of him, Tutino beckoned his son once more to keep going—never give up, never give in.

"In my mind I can see him turning, and that warm smile on his face saying, ‘Pick it up, you can do this,’" said James Jr., who will graduate from Cal Lutheran and be married in June at the same church where his fathered was memorialized. "I’ll never forget that moment, that feeling. My dad made you feel like you could do anything, and he always let you know he was walking with you."

Tutino was laid to rest on a grass-covered hillside in Valley Oaks Memorial Park in Westlake Village—a fitting end, his brother said.

"He always loved to run hills, and as I said in my eulogy, Jim had run his last race," Tony Tutino said. "The ‘billygoat’ had climbed his last hill. I couldn’t think of anything more fitting for my brother."

Sgt. Ross, in his final goodbye, might have put it best.

"Jim had always been my teacher, and in death, he teaches us all one last lesson," Ross said. "He’s taught us to appreciate everything we have in life and take nothing for granted. Cherish every day we have on Earth . . . and never forget each day to tell the people around you that you love them."