FREE e-Newsletter
Important News - Hot Topics
Get them Now!

The Law Officer's Pocket Manual - Bloomberg BNA
This handy 4" x 6" spiral-bound manual offers examples showing how rules are...

Departments : Shots Fired

Shots Fired: Redford Township, Michigan 06/10/1998

A traffic stop went from cordial to deadly in a matter of minutes for two suburban Detroit sergeants.

August 29, 2012  |  by - Also by this author

Photo courtesy of Adam Pasciak.
Photo courtesy of Adam Pasciak.

Editor's Note: View photos from the Redford, Mich., crime scene of the shooting involving two sergeants.

Sgt. Adam Pasciak had been on the Redford (Mich.) Township Police Department long enough to know the high temperatures and astronomical humidity of a southern Michigan summer were just around the corner. But June 10, 1998, had been shaping up to be a pretty decent day for the folks in this Detroit suburb, and that included the men and women of its police department.

The day had even come with a bonus for Pasciak: The scheduling of three shift commanders meant that Pasciak had been able to partner up with fellow sergeant Jim Turner, an old friend that he'd worked with in narcotics. They sat through a relatively quiet roll call—the only blip on the radar was discussion of possible transmitter issues with radio communications—then went out into the field.

Three hours into their shift, the two sergeants decided to head to the north end of their jurisdiction for a bite to eat. Swinging the steering wheel around, Pasciak never considered that the change in direction would prove to be fateful.

The incident started with the high-pitched squeal of a black Ford pickup's tires heading toward them. The peel-out wasn't that of some felon trying to distance himself from the scene of a crime, but it was enough for the officers to recognize that dinner was officially on hold.

Pasciak effected a traffic stop of the vehicle, which yielded without incident. Pasciak parked the unit and stepped out. Turner paralleled him along the passenger side of the pickup, and Pasciak approached the driver's door, pausing a split second to palm its tailgate.

The driver and sole occupant of the Ford was a bearded white male in his 30s wearing reflective sunglasses and a camouflage vest over his shirt—common enough attire for the area. He was polite and cooperative, surrendering his driver's license and vehicle paperwork to Pasciak, who doubled back to his unit for a wants and warrants check.

The return on their detainee, Mark Gaydos, indicated that he'd been driving on a suspended driver's license.

And so a dilemma. Technically, Gaydos was subject to an arrest. But it wasn't unusual for either of the officers to exercise discretion and the options available to them ran the gamut from writing a ticket, to towing the vehicle, to citing and releasing the driver, to a full custody arrest.

But as they considered their options, the officers' eyes kept gravitating to a couple of bumper stickers adorning the Ford's rear. Both indicated its driver was a proud gun owner; one even carried a caveat: "You can have my gun when you pry it from my cold dead fingers."

Such sentiments were/are hardly unique in a region where many residents proudly and responsibly exercise their Second Amendment rights. But the overall circumstances surrounding Gaydos' detention raised concerns.

Pasciak re-approached the driver. Putting on a disarming smile, he asked good-naturedly, "You don't have any guns, drugs, or bombs in the car, do you?"

The question was typical of the kind of roadside conversation he might make with a motorist, some almost open-ended query that usually garnered a "no," and occasionally a surprise confirmation.

Today, it was the tone of the reply—"There's nothing in the truck that you need to see"—that registered on Pasciak's radar. At once circumspect and vaguely challenging, the man's words were enough to prompt the officer to ask Gaydos to step out of the car.

Gaydos complied in getting out of the truck, but Pasciak's instincts told him that something was not quite right. He went to pat the man down while they were still on the driver's side of the pickup. That was when Gaydos brusquely pulled away.

"No one's going to pat me down," Gaydos said.

And with that, Pasciak knew that his perfectly fine day had just been shot to hell.

Exchanging Fire

Pasciak made a grab at Gaydos; the man pulled away and ran. Pasciak was right on his heels, and within seconds experienced a surprising realization: Hey, I'm catching up to this guy.

In retrospect, he should have taken this as a danger sign. After nine years on the job, Pasciak was not in the business of catching everyone who rabbited on him. And so as he closed the gap to a mere five feet, he found himself experiencing something of an ego boost. That feeling was short lived.

Gaydos reached under his shirt and pulled out a gun.

"GUN!!" Sgt. Turner yelled.

Hearing Turner's warning, Pasciak reflexively drew his own sidearm—a 9mm SIG Sauer—and squeezed off a point shot as Gaydos spun around.

At the same time Gaydos fired a two-round volley. It was on target. The first round slammed squarely into the middle knuckle of Pasciak's right hand, shattering the metacarpal bone and lodging in his wrist. The second tore into his left thigh and burrowed its way straight through his leg, nicking a vein along its path.

Pasciak's next conscious recollection was that he was lying on the ground saturated in his own blood and seeing his gun lying on the ground in front of him. A momentary sense of confusion settled over him, and he wondered how he'd gotten there. His shooting hand was immobilized and there was something seriously wrong with his left leg.

Grabbing for his handheld radio with his left hand, Pasciak called for help.

Silence. Pasciak recalled the information shared in briefing, the information that didn't seem so terribly important at the time: Radio signals were not reaching the farthest ends of the city—which was exactly where they were.

Pasciak's mind began to feel like it was starting to shut down when he heard more gunshots ringing out—a lot of them. Turner had witnessed what happened and continued the foot pursuit of the driver, exchanging gunfire as they ran. Within seconds, the gunfire stopped as the driver darted around a nearby house and disappeared.

Believing the suspect had gotten away, Turner returned to check on Pasciak.

Then more shots rang out. Gaydos had also doubled back and was again shooting at them. Turner returned fire. The gunman collapsed.


Moments later, Pasciak was aware that help had arrived. A couple of Dearborn Heights Police Officers Rod Smith and Bert Wells, scooped Pasciak into the back of their car and raced him to the hospital.

The ride to the hospital was mercifully short. And as it turned out, necessarily so.

Just how close Pasciak had come to dying was something that he would not know of for some time. When it came to the actuality of enduring his harrowing ordeal, he had become a voyeur to it, catching glimpses of disjointed images as he faded in and out of consciousness, seeing images of worried looking doctors instructing nurses to give Pasciak a shot of one thing or another and a parade of familiar faces checking in on him. And then there was a fast forward and Pasciak found himself riding in a helicopter.

He was transported to the University of Michigan trauma center and rushed into an operating room. There, Pasciak felt the sensation of tubes being inserted, and heard a cacophony of faceless people talking. Then, darkness.

The next few days held more of the same—brief moments of awareness, followed by fading back out again. Each time he opened his eyes, though, Pasciak saw the reassuring image of one of his co-workers, in uniform, standing watch over him. The good guys were there. He felt safe.

Gaydos' Past

Mark Gaydos died after transport to the same hospital that initially treated Pasciak. An investigation into his history revealed Gaydos had ties to a local militia with a history of expressed contempt for the government and police. More unsettling was the fact that almost two years to the day before the shooting, Gaydos had triggered a barricade situation at his family home. The Special Response Team was called out with crisis negotiators. After a prolonged standoff with officers, Gaydos was disarmed. No charges were pursued, and no police hazard hit was entered into the department's computer system on Gaydos.

The investigation also revealed that true to the bumper stickers he displayed on the back of his truck, Gaydos had been a very proud gun owner. Behind a false wall in the basement of his home, investigators found numerous handguns and rifles and tens of thousands of rounds of ammunition. They also found materials for a pipe bomb, anti-government propaganda, and—somewhat ironically—a video on how to survive a gunfight.

No one knows why Gaydos chose to make a stand against Pasciak and Turner that fateful day. The explanation died with him at the Garden City Hospital.

A Long Road

Concerns about Gaydos' militia affiliations led to Pasciak's fellow officers taking special precautions while he was in the hospital. "The reason I was seeing my fellow officers in uniform watching over me was because of Gaydos' suspected militia ties and the concern that I was not safe," Pasciak explains.

Pasciak endured a month of surgeries, including a bypass to repair the vein in his left thigh. In order to repair the damage to his right hand, a metatarsal bone was removed from his right foot that required the amputation of a toe.

With three limbs severely affected by the shooting and subsequent surgeries, Pasciak's therapy and recovery were prolonged. But he eventually learned to perform everyday tasks—and eventually learned to shoot his service revolver—with his left hand.

To help him focus on his future and take his mind off of his physical challenges, Pasciak returned to school, eventually earning his bachelor's degree in psychology. He also eventually returned to full patrol duties and was promoted to detective.

After several years back on the job, Pasciak underwent another series of surgeries on his foot—which ironically was not directly affected by the initial shooting. During his lengthy recovery, he entered a master's program in clinical psychology. His foot never fully recovered and he made the decision to take a medical retirement.

Pasciak hopes that officers recognize the importance of the support they can lend one another in the aftermath of such a shooting. While there are those who might debate the merits of initiating transport of an injured officer in lieu of paramedics, the bottom line was that the initiative of the two Dearborn Heights officers helped save Pasciak's life.

Pasciak also hopes that officers will make a habit of discussing what they are going to do on traffic stops, and laments that he and Turner had not done so during the first three hours of their shift.

"We had the opportunity and just didn't take advantage of it," he notes. As a result, he had no idea where Turner was during the early portion of the engagement.

Alongside Turner, Pasciak received Officer of the Year recognition from the Redford Township Police Department along with a Purple Heart. Pasciak has since earned his Ph.D. in clinical psychology and today assists with outpatient therapy in a clinic. He operates a Website for officers involved in a trauma at

Editor's note: Read other "Shots Fired" articles here.


PHOTOS: Shots Fired, Redford Township, Mich., Crime Scene

Comments (9)

Displaying 1 - 9 of 9

TripWire @ 8/29/2012 4:09 PM

Mr.Gaydos seemed to have forgotten the most important premise of surviving a gunfight: don't get into one in the first place.

I'm glad Officer Pasciak was able to heal and eventually return to duty.

Trigger @ 8/30/2012 5:23 AM

A lesson learned here is do not assume anything. Gaydos had a statement/mission to make, it was obvious that he intended on completing it.

Adam Pasciak @ 9/7/2012 6:05 PM

I wanted to take a moment to thank Dean for letting me share this experience. I was fortunate to have had a partner who reacted bravely to a situation that unfolded quickly and unexpectedly. Also, there were two officers who drove me to the hospital in record time. I heard they had to throw out the back seat afterwards due to all the blood on it. Had they waited for an ambulance, I may have at the very least lost my leg. I consider myself to have been very fortunate.

I was motivated to start the website: by my experiences after the shooting. I think a lot of my peers had difficulty knowing how to approach me. Oftentimes the focus was on the injuries, "How's the hand?" and those types of questions, as opposed to how I was. I realize those are essentially the same question, but with the extent of the injuries and the uncertainty of my future, my mindframe was not ideal and I was looking for ways to reinforce my negative thinking. My intention for the site is to provide an anonymous venue for officers to give/receive support and to offer suggestions on how to cope with traumatic incidents. Obviously it is not intended to take the place of therapy.

I have since learned that many other officers have felt a sense of isolation following injuries and exposure to traumatic incidents. I hope more departments have peer teams available to officers or other types of effective interventions.

Thank you for taking the time to read about my experience--I hope that it has been helpful. Best regards,

Adam Pasciak


ROD SMITH @ 12/10/2012 1:28 PM


adam pasciak @ 12/22/2012 9:10 PM

Hi Rod. This article did indeed bring back some painful memories, but I do appreciate that you and Bert broke some speed laws to get me fixed in time (I've heard I was very close to losing my leg--so you guys probably are why I still have them both). Life away from the job has been an adjustment, but I was fortunate to be able to pursue my degree and get into something equally as rewarding. My intention is to work with other police officers who are going through their own tough times--figuring that I ought to use my own experiences for something useful and that I might know a little about. Feel free to contact me at [email protected] I hope all is well with you and your family--thanks for the message. Happy holidays to you and the guys at the Heights. Stay safe.

P.S. As for the article, I'm not sure there is a hard copy of the magazine, I have only seen the online version.

Len Farr @ 3/30/2013 8:04 PM

Reading this story makes me sad! I grew up in redford, my father was a firefighter for 25 years. The only Police officer I ever remember getting shot ,was in the early 60's by a relative or brother of I believe Diana Ross. The story I remember was he came back and was standing over the officer after he shot him and was going to kill him, but heard sirens and left. Redford has always been a peacefull place to live, I miss it alot.

Pete Lusis @ 4/9/2013 2:57 PM

Great job on the story! I was one of the investigators that followed up after Adams shooting. At the time I was in the Detective Bureau and also a member of our Critical Incident Debreifing team. I became a member of this team after I myself was involved in a fatal shooting in 1994. Adam and I have spoken recently regarding both our incidents and just talking with him has helped me with my issues. Just a quick note the Len... I remember your Dad very well he was a great firefighter and a good friend.

John Russell @ 5/22/2013 12:11 PM

Shot were fired in AFGHANISTAN AND IRAQ ALONG WITH SYRIA my god if shots were not fired in these places I would be really scared LOL!!

John Russell @ 5/22/2013 12:13 PM

SHOTS FIRED in IRAQ OMG IF NOTHING HAPPENED IN THAT hell hole i would be nervous .......ok another car bomb exploded what time is it????? my god they are late??

Join the Discussion

POLICE Magazine does not tolerate comments that include profanity, personal attacks or antisocial behavior (such as "spamming" or "trolling"). This and other inappropriate content or material will be removed. We reserve the right to block any user who violates this, including removing all content posted by that user.

Other Recent Stories

Hurricane Response: Weathering the Storm
By the time Florence blew into Wilmington, a city of around 100,000 people, she was much...
Police Supporters
This holiday season you should know that most Americans support you and respect you.
Flying Cross: External Carrier Compatible Outerwear
How do you create outerwear that protects officers from the elements in all types of...

Police Magazine