The slain Dallas police officers: Five profiles

Lorne Ahrens

It was hard to miss Lorne Ahrens, in uniform or out.

The 6-foot-5, 300-pound former semi-pro football player could turn heads just by showing up, according to his father-in-law, Charlie Buckingham.

"He was a big ol' boy," Buckingham said Friday, the day after Ahrens was killed in the sniper attack on Dallas police officers. "Big as he is, just walking down the street he cut a real figure. I'm sure it helped him in his work."

Buckingham had been watching the events in downtown Dallas unfold from his home in Burleson, Texas, a few miles from where Ahrens lived with Buckingham's daughter Katrina and the couples' children, a 10-year-old girl and 8-year-old boy.

He knew his son-in-law could be there. He knew his daughter, a Dallas police detective, was still asleep. She had gone to bed early in order to be up by 3 a.m. for an early shift. Buckingham and his wife decided to drive over.

"We got there just a few minutes after the Dallas police knocked on her door," Buckingham. "They told her she should come down to the hospital with them."

Katrina Ahrens dressed quickly and left with the officers, Buckingham said. He and his wife stayed with the children, who were still asleep. According to Buckingham, Ahrens was already out of surgery when Katrina Ahrens got there. But then something went wrong.

"They had to take him back in," Buckingham said with an exhausted voice. "She said he didn't make it."

Dallas police said Senior Cpl. Lorne Ahrens was a 14-year veteran of the department. He worked for a time in a unit serving warrants, Buckingham said, an assignment where danger can come with any door knock. Ahrens may have quelled a lot of potential resistance with his bulk, a shaved head and heavily tattooed arms.

The couple had an understanding about their chosen careers.

"She was fine with it," Buckingham said. "She was a police officer too."

Michael Krol

He'd worked difficult jobs, waited for years and moved more than 1,000 miles, but finally the day had come: Michael Krol was officially a police officer.

He stood there before the cameras, goofy grin and all, as his Michigan family crowded around to watch him hoist a certificate saying he had graduated from the Dallas Police Academy. It was April 25, 2008. Krol, then 32, still had a cherub face. And he seemed to have a long career ahead of him.

"He was a big guy and had a big heart, and he was a really caring person and wanted to help people," said brother-in-law Brian Schoenbaechler, 44, a management consultant in Atlanta. "It doesn't seem real. His mom's had a difficult time."

In 2007, Krol learned the Dallas police force was hiring so he took a gamble, leaving his community, family and friends to move 1,100 miles south to a city he barely knew, Schoenbaechler recalled. "He said, 'This is something that I wanted to do.'" So he did it.

He was always in control. Always the calm one. Always the one to diffuse chaotic situations.

Until he became the victim of one.

Brent Thompson

Dallas Area Rapid Transit police officer Brent Thompson, who recently married another transit officer, was remembered Friday as an "outstanding" officer.

"And I'd like to point out, Brent was recently married in the last two weeks," DART police chief James Spiller said during an appearance on NBC's "Today" show. "So this is very heartbreaking for us."

DART confirmed Thompson's death on its website and Twitter feed.

Thompson, who joined the force in 2009, is the first DART officer to be killed in the line of duty, according to the transit agency, which established a police department in 1989.

CNN reported that Thompson's spouse also worked as a transit officer. He was in "great spirits from his recent marriage," Spiller told the network.

Michael Smith

Michael Smith was the one always standing guard by the tree fort in the vast lobby of Watermark Community Church in Dallas, where he worked as a uniformed security officer in recent years, greeting parents and kids and ushering them on to their Sunday programs. On the church's Facebook page Friday, members recalled him handing out Dallas police department stickers to their kids, or running after them down the hallway, or showing them his police cruiser.

"He was outgoing but also very tender and unassuming," said Wes Butler, the director of family and children's ministries at Watermark. "He was just there, you know? People naturally engaged with him. He was one of the good guys, the one you'd hope your kids would go to if they ran into trouble."

One member recalled how Smith mentored him when he was deciding to become a police officer, and later, when he decided to leave the force.

Another member, Bob Crotty, said Smith "lived out his faith in Jesus Christ," and exuded a warmth and genuineness that drew people to him.

"He was a guy who really cared about other people," he said. "As a result other people loved him, too. It breaks your heart."

Smith, 55, was a former Army Ranger who joined the police force in 1989, according to Texas television station KDFM, which spoke with his sister. He had two daughters, ages 14 and 10, with his wife of 17 years, Heidi.

Smith's pastor, Todd Wagner, described him as a "friend and faithful servant" who "understood the power of love."

"Even when serving here as part of his job he understood that loving people was the best way to protect and serve them," Wagner said in a statement. "Mike wasn't just concerned with safety and security at Watermark or in Dallas. It genuinely troubled him when he saw people treated as objects or when protocol got in the way of personal care. He never compromised his responsibilities, but he never walked away from a compassionate response."

Another member tried to imagine what it would be like at church this Sunday, when thousands of members realize that the officer who always greeted them was among those killed in downtown Dallas Thursday night.

"I promise you his presence will absolutely be missed in that one spot" by the tree fort, said Nathan Wagnon, who works in the men's ministry. "Probably a lot of people are going to know we lost five police officers, but probably they are not going to know he was one of them. ."

Rick Zamarripa

It had been 12 hours since he'd lost his son to one of the country's worst mass police shootings, and Rick Zamarripa still couldn't understand why.

Dallas police officer Patrick Zamarripa, 32, had survived three tours in Iraq, one of the world's most dangerous places, his father said Friday. And then this.

“He comes to the United States to protect people here,” Rick said. “And they take his life.”

Patrick Zamarripa's entire adult life had been devoted to service. He entered the Navy soon after high school and saw combat while working for the military police in Iraq, Rick said. When he got out about five years ago, he joined the Dallas Police Department.

He just liked to help people, his father said.

A friend had recently asked Zamarripa if he was interested in a job with the Immigration and Naturalization Service, his father said. He declined.

“No, I want to stay,” Rick remembered his son saying. “I love doing this.”

Zamarripa's Facebook and Twitter profiles are rife with salutes to other fallen officers and soldiers: “Rest in Peace,” in honor of two New York cops killed in 2014; a blue stripe across a black image of Texas; a drawing of an eagle with the words “Home of the Free because of the Brave.”

His interests, outside of an avid devotion to the Rangers and Cowboys, were few.

But he adored his daughter, tweeting photos of Lyncoln the day after her birth on Dec. 14, 2013.

“Daddy's got you,” he wrote. “My new reason for ... life.”

On Thursday night, Rick said, the family was allowed to see his face briefly through a glass window. Lyncoln called out for her father.

“Da-da,” he heard her cry.