Tehachapi News

Heroism honored with Gold Star Awards

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Spring had not yet sprung and the sun was yet to rise in the wee, cold hours of April 3, 2008.

Sgt. Umberto Silva was having some difficulty rousing himself for another day’s work at the prison.

Tired and under the weather, he considered diving back under the warm covers.
Not his style.

He dutifully showed up for another shift on the Level IV, maximum security yard at CCI Tehachapi.

“I knew something was wrong that whole day,” Silva said. “It was unusually quiet on the yard.”

That day prisons across the state were placed on an unprecedented lock down following an armed attack by two gang members. The inmates entered an interior office where they stabbed and seriously injured Officer Steven Cacciola and Sgt. Silva before an alarm could be raised.

Capt. Patrick Matzen, Sgt. Michael Slankard and Officer Debra Martinez arrived on the scene, and helped to subdue the inmates with pepper spray, batons and pure survival instinct. Silva was stabbed seven times, Cacciola, twice. All five were injured the incident the Department of Corrections deemed “a pre-meditated plan to assault and injure the staff.”

The two inmates face trial in August for attempted murder.

“My first concern was there’s an officer down,” Silva said describing the events that left Cacciola with two stab wounds; one at the top of his spinal column and one deep into the bones and muscle tissue of his shoulder.

“I can understand what the guys in the war in Iraq are going through,” he said. “He had a knife. I just had my hands.”

Governor Arnold Schwarzenegger met with the injured officers at his Santa Monica offices just months after the attack.

“Their courage, toughness and bravery is amazing, I wanted to offer them encouragement and my support,” Schwarzenegger said. “They are the real heroes of this state.”

A year and three surgeries after the attack, Silva joined his co-workers for a ceremony at the state Capitol, where they were awarded one of the Department of Corrections’ highest honors, The Gold Star: “For bravery above and beyond the normal demands of correctional service.”

Training, humor, and God

As a former Navy medic and medical technician assistant, Silva said his training helped him to remain conscious and methodical throughout the attack and its aftermath — even though he’d lost several pints of blood.

He offered paramedics helpful tips on how to sew up his torn ear.

Once the facility had been secured, Silva called his wife Toni before being helicoptered to Kern Medical Center.

“I got into a little fight at work,” he told her.

Toni Silva knew it was serious when local law enforcement drove her to the hospital.

“I remember there was a curdle of blood coming from his mouth as he talked. He was fine. I was an emotional wreck.”

His youngest son, Derrik, was hit hard by the sight of his dad’s injuries.

“The minute he came in he just broke down,” Silva said. “That  hurt me more than everything else. Seeing him (upset). I just had to pull him close.”

A jagged piece of the improvised prison weapon is still lodged in Silva’s neck. It skewered his head from temple to mid-cervical spine. It just missed his eyes. Removing it could cause permanent nerve damage.

He’s got more surgeries and treatment ahead of him, he said.

“People would tell me, ‘God, you look good,’ because they expected the worst. And I would tell them, I always look good.”

Some emotional healing took place as Silva was awarded the Gold Star on Derrik’s 18th birthday, just weeks before his high school graduation. The entire family attended the ceremony.

Growing up in a rough neighborhood in Los Angeles, Silva said he’d seen his share of street fights. He’d had plenty of near misses with danger, but he always managed to avoid serious injury — in spite of his admitted teenage stupidity.

“My mom prays for all of us constantly,” he said, describing how even his toughest friends would come seeking a prayer from mom before football and baseball games.

Prayer for his attackers is not out of the question, he and his wife both said.

Team spirit

The Silva family has been active in local Little League for nearly a decade, coaching and managing girls softball and boys baseball.

Swelling from a skull fracture kept Silva from Little League Opening Day ceremonies the day after the attack.

Silva’s daughter Alexxis, 13, stepped in.

“It was devastating when we heard,” said Brian Hawksley, with Tehachapi Little League. “It was very fitting that his daughter threw out the first pitch.”

Silva will coach the junior girls All Star team this summer.

“I’m pretty happy my dad’s not afraid,” Alexxis said of her father’s determination to return to work. “I know he’s doing it all for us.”

Silva said he misses the camaraderie and the routine of his job.

“When you do something you enjoy, there’s nothing bad about the job. I get to work and the day just goes by fast.”

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Survival bonds

“I never thought it would happen to me.”

Sgt. Umberto Silva, Officer Steven Cacciola and Captain Patrick Matzzen each said the same thing.

Although they each felt their training — more than 40 years collectively — had prepared them for the violent inmate attack on April 3, 2008, not a one believed it would ever happen to them.

“I view things differently, and I’m more prepared,” Cacciola said.

Cacciola recently returned to work after a year spent recovering from shoulder surgery and stab wounds to the upper spine. He still deals with post traumatic stress.
“It did bring us definitely closer ,” Cacciola said of the professional teamwork that led to collective survival, the safety of the other inmates and staff. ‘We stay in touch. All four of us.”

Inmate attacks happen in every prison, on a regular basis, he said.

It’s an act of bravery every time a corrections officer clocks in. He’s outnumbered a thousand to one.

Cacciola said his 8-year-old daughter cried and worried for a few days after her daddy returned to work.

Captain Matzen said he’s also more vigilant, and thankful.

“Every day this could occur. Every day we train,” he said. “I think the staff that works here every day need to be recognized for the demands the job has and the dangers that staff face every day.”

Matzen said he tries to put the details of the event behind him, although he’s grown closer to his co-workers

“Everybody knew the consequences of what was happening,” he said. “We all were fighting for one another. No doubt about that.”

Posted June 15, 2009; Volume 110 - No.10, print edition June 17, 2009.