Port Richmond mourns loss of man killed by officer

To his Port Richmond community, William Panas, Jr. was a larger-than-life personality, a neighborhood fixture whose presence was as reassuring as it was familiar.

It seemed like Panas, 21, was always around - having a catch with local kids at the playground, testing out his new barber's license by giving a free haircut, or ordering his usual strawberry-vanilla milkshake at the ice cream shop.

Today, as at least 200 of Panas's friends and family members packed a Port Richmond church for Panas's funeral, many said the neighborhood felt empty without him.

"Every time I looked out the window, I saw him out there in the playground," said friend Lisa Stendardo. "He'd play ball with my son, make sure he was okay. He did that with lots of kids, whether he knew them or not - that's just the kind of person he was."

Panas's death, at the hands of an off-duty police officer who shot him in the chest last Saturday night, has left his family and neighbors grief-stricken and deeply angry.

Panas was killed by Philadelphia Officer Frank Tepper, a man neighbors have described as a bully who had been at war with the neighborhood's youth for years.

Police said Tepper, 43, tried to break up a fight outside his Elkhart Street home that erupted during a family party. The fight involved some of Tepper's family members. Police have not said whether Tepper called 911 before drawing his gun.

Panas spent the night playing Nintendo with friends. They were headed out for Chinese food when they happened upon the fight, said his father, William Sr.

According to some eyewitness accounts, Panas tried to help stop the brawl. He was shot steps away from the playground where he'd spent much of his free time.

Police said Tepper was assaulted by several people and fired in self-defense. But neighbors have said the fight started in Tepper's house, that Tepper appeared intoxicated, and that no one threatened him. The shooting is under investigation.

Tepper, a 16-year veteran of the force, has declined to comment. He works in the Civil Affairs Unit, whose assignments include monitoring demonstrations and labor disputes. He has been placed on desk duty during the investigation, standard procedure for officers involved in shootings.

The killing intensified the animosity between Tepper and some of his neighbors, who say the officer has a history of using his authority to intimidate people. Some residents said Tepper threatened them or their children, and reports done by the police department's Internal Affairs Unit show that Tepper has in the past drawn his gun during scuffles with neighborhood teenagers.

After one such incident in 2002, an investigator determined that Tepper's behavior "could have resulted in numerous injuries with the very real possibility of deadly force being used by him during this confrontation."

Police officers have been standing guard outside Tepper's house since the shooting, though neighbors said Tepper hasn't been there for most of the week.

Panas' father has publicly asked the neighborhood not to retaliate against Tepper.

"I don't want any action from anybody," the elder Panas said. "Except from the police, and from God."

Many who attended today's service at Nativity B.V.M Church, on Allegheny Avenue near Belgrade Street, wept openly as they comforted one another. Mourners of all ages filed past photographs showing Panas in his high school graduation robes, smiling with prom dates, and as a baby in a diaper, clutching a plush ball and smiling broadly. Next to the pictures, condolence cards were piled high.

Panas' parents stood with Panas' older sister at the front of the church, often crying as they embraced well-wishers. Nearby, Panas was laid out in a tan suit that he had worn to his senior prom a few years earlier.

Friends spoke of Panas's kindness, his propensity for making goofy jokes and offering thoughtful advice, and of the unwavering respect Panas showed toward others and particularly toward his parents, even at an age when many young adults relish moving away from families.

Panas lived at home and helped his mother through a four-year battle with cancer. He looked up to his father, who described Panas as "my mini-me, my best friend." And he intended to use his newly-acquired barber's license to open a barbershop in the heart of his neighborhood, a shop he hoped would be a community hangout.

"Billy'd give you the shirt off his back," said 18-year-old Eddie Cantz, who grew up near Panas. "It didn't matter who you were, he'd do anything to help you out."

Justin Gift, 16, said everyone he knew from the neighborhood was always glad to see Panas.

"He always had a smile on his face," Gift said. "We shouldn't have to be here today."

Contact staff writer Allison Steele at 215-854-2641 or asteele@phillynews.com.