Cadets

Cadets are sworn in as members of the Baltimore Police Department at the Baltimore Police Academy Class 2012-04 graduation ceremony at police headquarters. (Karl Merton Ferron, Baltimore Sun / June 21, 2013)

The latest class of police trainees marched to the podium to accept law enforcement certificates in gleaming black shoes and brass buttons that matched their smiles. The graduates yelled their names proudly during a special roll call and chanted at the end of the ceremony with vigor.

But the name of one member of the class wasn't called. That trainee was seriously injured during a training exercise, adding a somber tone to the Baltimore Police Academy graduation Friday.

"It made it real for them," said Alan Bush, cousin of police graduate Jose Bruno, who attended the graduation. "I think everyone was at a point where they were trying to find themselves. It definitely had an impact on them."

For many in the academy class, the first shooting they experienced didn't come on the streets of Baltimore but on Feb. 12 during a training session at an abandoned building in Owings Mills. Prosecutors said Baltimore police instructor William Scott Kern fired his service weapon at University of Maryland police recruit Raymond Gray, critically wounding him and blinding him in one eye.

Baltimore police have acknowledged that top commanders were unaware of the drills and that the session didn't follow departmental safety protocols that could have prevented a loaded gun being carried into the training site. The department also was not authorized to use the state-owned facility, which once served as a center for the developmentally disabled.

Even in the face of that tragedy, none of the 39 class members quit, Baltimore police spokesman Anthony Guglielmi said. They chose to complete the program to become sworn officers for a department that's operating with one-sixth fewer officers than full strength, a situation that leads to overtime shifts aimed at ensuring enough police are on the streets to suppress the city's homicide count.

Baltimore County prosecutors have reviewed the training incident and charged Kern, 46, with second-degree assault and reckless endangerment. This month, Gray filed a multimillion-dollar lawsuit against the city and Baltimore County. He seeks $330 million in compensatory damages and another $140 million in punitive damages.

Gray did not attend the graduation ceremony, but his brother did. Baltimore police Chaplain Charles Minetree acknowledged Gray's family members almost immediately when he offered his "greetings to all — especially the Gray family" before an invocation.

Police Commissioner Anthony W. Batts followed with a forceful address that called on the graduates to do their job with professionalism and unbending ethics.

"Protect your integrity," he said. "Demand that other people respect your integrity."

While he didn't mention Gray's name or the training accident, he talked about safety and ordered the officers to stay disciplined.

"I will not tolerate us hurting each other and being sloppy at what we do," he said.

Class valedictorian Matthew J. Vanic emphasized camaraderie through adversity.

"We remember the many struggles both good an bad that brought us together," he said.

After Batts handed out certificates to each of the graduates, the ceremony paused specifically to honor Gray. He was awarded a special commendation named after Gene Cassidy, a patrolman who was shot in the head and blinded during an arrest in 1987. Cassidy later earned a master's degree and become a Baltimore police agent and instructor.

Cassidy, accompanied by a seeing-eye dog, was on the stage as Batts handed Gray's brother a framed certificate.

While Gray struggled to stay alive in a hospital after the shooting, his classmates were given counseling and given several days off before the academy reconvened a week later.

Many graduates, including Edward J. Cook Jr., struggled with the emotional weight of what transpired.

"He had a hard time talking about it," said Cook's uncle Jack Arseneault. "Obviously the whole class was traumatized for a time. …In a training environment, it was just so needless."

Arseneault said his nephew is proud to have stuck with the program.