DATE: Thursday, February 27, 1997           TAG: 9702270426

SECTION: LOCAL                   PAGE: B1   EDITION: FINAL 

SOURCE: BY CINDY CLAYTON, STAFF WRITER 

DATELINE: NORFOLK                           LENGTH:  127 lines

TOO CLOSE TO HIS BROTHER'S FOOTSTEPS 16 YEARS AFTER HIS BROTHER DIED IN THE LINE OF DUTY, OFFICER ROBERT DOUROS HAD A CLOSE CALL.

Stephen Douros was a Norfolk policeman, and he wanted his younger brother Bobby to be one too.

But Bobby had little interest in police work - until one tragic June morning in 1980.

On that day, Stephen Douros was killed in the line of duty when his car was hit by a driver he and other officers were pursuing during a high-speed chase.

Three months later, Bobby carried out his brother's wish: He decided to join the Norfolk police force. ``I thought somebody had to carry on the desires (Stephen) had.''

Bobby never imagined tragedy would strike twice.

``I never thought it would happen again to our family,'' he said. ``I always thought that with my speed and my ability, that I would take out the (other) person first.''

But last May, 16 years after Stephen's death, the Douros family came terrifyingly close to losing another of its own when Bobby, now 38, was shot during a drug raid. One bullet ricocheted off his bullet-proof helmet, barely missing his left temple. The other split into two pieces that are still lodged in his arm and chest.

James Vincent Beasley Sr., the 61-year-old man who shot Investigator Bobby Douros, was convicted this week of malicious wounding and use of a firearm during the commission of a felony. He was sentenced Wednesday to 10 years in prison.

According to testimony at Beasley's trial, Douros and several other vice/narcotics investigators broke down the door of Beasley's house in the 700 block of Reservoir Ave. around 7 a.m. on the day of the raid.

Bobby's partner, Mike Reardon, went in first, shouting that he was a police officer executing a search warrant and that everyone in the house should get down on the floor.

Bobby, shouting the same warnings, followed Reardon and the two went to the left, into the living room. As soon as Reardon entered the room, he encountered a man who immediately dropped to the floor.

Bobby continued to the dining room and saw a woman standing in the kitchen. She walked into the dining room and got down on the floor, but never indicated that anyone else was in the room.

But someone else was there, waiting.

James Beasley crouched behind a dresser in the dining room. As Douros walked into the room, he was blinded by a lamp with no shade sitting on the dresser. Beasley fired at least four times.

``I never saw it coming,'' Bobby said.

Though he had been hit by two bullets, he never panicked.

``For my protection, I shot in the general direction of Mr. Beasley. My mind was calm,'' he said.

When Reardon heard the shots and realized his partner had been hit, he stood between him and Beasley, then sent Douros back to the front door of the house.

By the time he reached the door, Bobby said he had lost a lot of blood. Still conscious, he said he wasn't afraid to die.

``I knew if I died, I would be in heaven. . . If I lived, I would be with my family. So, I would win in either situation.''

The oldest of Tom and Alice Douros' eight children, Stephen and Bobby were the closest of brothers.

``He was my idol. I wanted to be just like him,'' Bobby said.

In fact, his mother said, all of his seven brothers and sisters looked up to Stephen. He looked out for them, taught them to scuba-dive and bought things for them.

``He was a very loving, caring, dedicated-to-his-job person,'' Bobby said.

The brothers also grew up attending Community Church of Norfolk, where their father is still pastor.

That upbringing is evident when Bobby talks about a close call with death and forgiveness.

``I believe God had a purpose for me living through it and him (Beasley) living through it,'' he said of the shooting.

That purpose could have been the chance to speak to Beasley personally during the six-day trial.

``I told him whatever the outcome of the trial, I have no hard feelings toward him,'' Douros said. ``I could forgive him and God could forgive him if he asked him. I think it made me and him feel better.''

Douros said that Beasley apologized during their talk. Earlier, the men had shaken hands.

If his older brother could see him today, he might be proud of the man he tried so earnestly to recruit.

And had Stephen lived through the accident, Bobby said, he probably would have forgiven the woman who caused it.

``I would hope that he would have. . . He had that kind of spirit,'' Bobby said.

Anna Tipton Morris, the driver of the car that killed Stephen, was convicted of involuntary manslaughter and sentenced to six days in jail and one year of weekly volunteer work.

Bobby still recalls what he was doing when he got the call with the news of his brother's death.

It was the morning of June 21, 1980. Bobby had just opened the Milton's Pizza he was managing in Williamsburg when his father called to tell him there had been an accident.

Just before dawn that morning, Stephen and his partner, Frank E. Linkous, 25, had heard a report from dispatchers about a police chase and headed down East Ocean View Avenue to assist.

When the pair reached the intersection of 11th Bay Street and East Ocean View Avenue, Linkous, who was driving, spotted the speeding oncoming cars. He hit the brakes, skidding to a stop on the oncoming inside lane.

A police statement at the time said that Morris, the driver being pursued, was in an oncoming lane and traveling in excess of 70 mph. She abruptly changed lanes and struck the police car on the right side, where Douros was sitting.

Bobby Douros, who now works in the police department's forensic division, said if he hadn't been wearing his helmet that morning last May, he wouldn't be alive today.

And already, working in forensics, he's taking fewer risks.

After the shooting, although he had no lingering medical problems from his wounds, he requested a transfer to forensics, with his wife, Debbie, and their two young daughters in mind.

``You realize there are certain things more important than SOT (Special Operations Team) and vice/narcotics, and that's my family,'' he said. ``Instead of being so selfish and thinking of myself, I thought of them.

``I realized I couldn't put them through this again.'' ILLUSTRATION: Color photo by HUY NGUYEN/The Virginian-Pilot

Norfolk police Investigator Robert Douros was shot during a drug

raid last year. His assailant was convicted in the case this week.

Photo

Stephen Douros was killed during a car chase in 1980. His brother

signed up for the force three months later. KEYWORDS: NORFOLK POLICE DEPARTMENT

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