THE 44-YEAR PURSUIT OF ONE COP’S DAUGHTER TO FIND HIS SHOOTER
/By Lori Cooper
The nation’s most sought-after college football recruit in 1961 went on to become a member of The Columbus, Ohio Division of Police, foregoing a career in the NFL and graduating in November of 1965 from its 33rd Academy Class. Officer Nick Cooper found an instant attachment to third shift as a patrol officer, or what civilians who work those hours like to call the “graveyard shift.” He was an adrenaline junkie who thrived on the criminal element, and a fearless protector. He was my father, an American law enforcement hero.
Before the days of SWAT, an elite tactical unit was formed called “D Company” overlapping second and third shifts from 2000 to 0400 hours. Its officers were required to take all runs where the worst criminal offenses had occurred. My dad was selected to be a member of this prestigious unit in 1966.
On March 15, 1972, he and his partner interrupted a small band of residential career burglars who lived in Dayton, a smaller, urban city 75 miles west of Columbus. Charles Edward Hays, William Raymond Viars and Charles Douglas Cox all carried guns. These men chose to burglarize neighborhoods far from their own. One team member would serve as the getaway driver, while the other two committed the breaking and entering of nice, middle-class homes. If these homes happened to be occupied, they would immobilize their prey by steering their victims to their most prized valuables and cash, all under the threat of death. This was long before the term “home invasion” had ever been created.
At approximately 2200 hours, a young couple arriving home from church pulled into their driveway. They lived on the main thoroughfare that served as the entrance into and exit out of the neighborhood. The couple flagged down my dad and his partner. Their dog wasn’t barking and they knew instantly something was wrong.
My dad’s partner took the rear, while he stayed with the young couple in the front. It was incredibly dark without any streetlights. Suddenly, gunfire erupted, and Officer Cooper’s partner yelled: “Here they come, Coop.” Two men bolted like lightning from the backyard, with my father’s partner chasing after them, tackling Viars to the ground, with Hays flying by Cooper, engaging him in a foot pursuit.
Hays ran across the street and was stuck in a corridor with nowhere to go, surrounded by fences on every side of him. Like a cornered rat, he turned and shot my father at point-blank range with a Browning 9MM. My dad had the inherent knowledge to turn his torso to keep the bullet from penetrating his chest. Vests weren’t worn in 1972. Officers didn’t even have walkie talkies. There was no mode of communication except the radios in the patrol cars and wagons. My father returned fire, striking Hays once in the abdomen.
All three men were indicted by a grand jury on 14 felony charges, including the Intentional Shooting of a Police Officer. Hays was given an O.R. Bond, while Viars and Cox entered into plea bargains and were sentenced to Ohio’s maximum-security prison, The Ohio Penitentiary, located in downtown Columbus, serving 8 and 3-1/2 years, respectively. Hays fled, failing to appear in court, and was later apprehended in Kentucky in 1974 and Connecticut in 1976. Ohio Governor’s Extradition warrants were acquired, with officers assigned to extradite Hays. Both times, each warrant was squashed. Why? I’ve spent these last four years in my own battle to find out, with answers that seemed to lead to coverups from cops to high-ranking public officials.
Hays was allegedly “in the wind,” living a life in Warwick, Rhode Island for many years. Eventually, he moved back to Dayton when he inherited a house from a relative within his extended family. Forty-four years would pass before I would find Hays all by myself, locate the arrest warrant and encourage our current prosecutor to reactivate the 1972 indictment under its old case number, eliminating all statute of limitations issues. Columbus officials had ceased looking for Hays by 1980. My dad succumbed to his original gunshot injury and subsequent surgeries.
In February of 2017, a judge ruled the constitutional right to a speedy trial of Charles Edward Hays had been violated when the state of Ohio refused to extradite him twice in the 1970s, legally “prejudicing” him. The case was dismissed, though not without historical significance.
My upcoming book, THE SOUND OF SILENCE, reveals this entire true story about the man who shot a heroic cop, my late dad, who never served a day of time for his shooting, and my entire journey of locating him over four decades later. It is due for worldwide release by Notebook Publishing in June, 2021.
