Above: "Second Draft of History: The Shooting in New Paltz ... 10 Years Later." An interview with officers Jeffrey Quiepo and Stuart McKenzie. Filmed and producd by Andres Bodon.
It has already been 10 years since Jared T. Bozydaj paraded through Main Street and Church Street of New Paltz, shooting his IntraTec 7.62 Semiautomatic assault rifle. It was a weapon powerful enough to rip through bulletproof vests. And on June 21, 2001, it changed the lives of two Sheriff Deputy Officers of the Ulster County Sheriff's Office.
“Nobody knew that this could happen, nobody expected this to happen,” said McKenzie. “2001 was a changing year for everybody.”
The sheen scars on Officer Jeffrey Quiepo’s arm and hand serve as the only visible marks left behind by the shooting. After the bullet entered his hand and exited through his forearm, he remained in the hospital for five days and received two surgeries. After eight long months, Quiepo was back to work.
However, for Officer Stuart McKenzie, the seared memories lay as a reminder of the emotional scars left behind.
“I almost got a divorce to be honest with you,” said McKenzie. “I actually got more sensitive to it over time. This is the first time I’ve spoken to the press about it, other than my therapist.”
McKenzie stated that the first month afterwards, he was having no problem. He then started having trouble sleeping and the incident began to really take root and overwhelmingly affect him.
“My wife said my personality changed,” said McKenzie. “I started getting more suspicious of things, kind of like you get robbed for the first time and everybody now suddenly looks like a suspect.”
As calls are made every day to police officers, not all turn out to be worth investigating. However, for McKenzie, these calls were no longer “simple” calls. He began handling these calls as if everything had to be surveyed deeply.
He began to sleep three hours a day and drinking heavily. Due to the repercussions of this incident and a stabbing incident that occurred shortly afterwards, where McKenzie was attacked, his wife wanted to him to leave the police force.
“My wife and I we fought over that topic, because of the two incidents, back to back, and she said you’re not going back,“ said McKenzie.
However, McKenzie was persistent.
“She wanted me to leave but I just wanted get back to work more,” said McKenzie. “I wanted to get back to work to prove that I was okay. I felt like I’d be beaten if I didn’t.”
According to McKenzie, for a while “[his marriage] was a bit ugly.” However, with the help of marriage counseling, McKenzie and his wife are still together.
Speaking about his distant but internally scarring memories, McKenzie can easily remember standing out on the middle of Main Street, being exposed by the traffic light overhead. Unable to see past the beaming light, they were vulnerable targets to the shooter concealed by the dark. Before McKenzie and Quiepo knew it, Bozydaj was opening fire on them.
“In the Marines Corps we say there is nothing more dangerous than a well armed, well trained and dedicated enemy,” said McKenzie. “Well, he was well armed and dedicated. He just wasn’t well trained.”
At the beginning of his 3am shift, McKenzie was grabbing his usual cup of coffee at Convenient Deli.
“I heard gunfire and when I heard the gunfire, I started heading in that direction,” said McKenzie. “It sounds scary but most shots fired calls turn out to be either nothing or you can’t find anyone. So, I wasn’t planning to intervene or anything like that ”
According to Quiepo, the gunshots were originally thought as college kids playing with fireworks. However, it all changed when Lt. Karl Baker discovered a Land Rover “shot to hell” behind Neko Sushi’s parking lot.
“That’s when we realized we had to change gears,” said Quiepo. “The really scary part was when [Baker] found the Land Rover shot up. He started transmitting, we could hear shots in the background and I’m automatically thinking, ‘He’s down.'”
Quiepo and McKenzie separately made it to the scene.
Adrenaline pumping, Quiepo crouched by the rear of the police vehicle, waiting for the shooter. That’s when Bozydaj opened fire and struck Quiepo’s hand. The bullet then exited through his forearm.
“[Quiepo] was by the rear of the car, which offers no protection, ” said McKenzie. “I was by the engine block and told him to come on down here but he was just so stunned and kept on saying over and over again ‘I’m hit, I’m hit.’”
McKenzie dragged Quiepo behind the engine block. Because Bozydaj was firing three to four rounds in one location and then moving and shooting more rounds from another location, Quiepo thought there were two shooters.
“He was ambushing us like snipers,” said Quiepo. “After I got hit, I was in pain and really angry at [Bozydaj] so I said, ‘He’s gonna kill us but I’m gonna take him with us.’
Quiepo was bleeding profusely while McKenzie attempted to get to his trunk twice to retrieve his medical bag. Both times, he was fired at. He remembered the two pairs of latex gloves he had on him. He shoved one glove into where Quiepo was shot and then as he tried to fit the other glove on, it ripped. Pleading for help to the window above them, McKenzie asked for a towel. However, the spectator stated he was too afraid to even look out the window, and refused to throw down a towel.
“I became angry but it was all set and done,” said McKenzie irritably. “[The spectator] did an interview in the Daily Freeman and he was talking about how he could see the whole thing, it was a great view, that there were cops laying down and they weren’t doing anything.”
“[Quiepo] was my backup and he was shot,” McKenzie said with distress. “I could do nothing to help him. I couldn’t stop the bleeding.”
According to McKenzie, Bozydaj planned the entire scheme out, stockpiling ammunition around the village, mapping out the alleys and figuring out the lighting.
“We were in the worst possible position,” said McKenzie. “I won’t lie about it. A lot of people think we did this great heroic deed but we were incredibly lucky. Tactfully speaking, we screwed up. It could have been a lot worse but thank God for bad aim and lack of training.”
McKenzie characterized the communication among the officers on the scene as “chaotic,” with false reports of deputies being shot and killed transmitted through the radio.
“The whole thing was just screwed up," said McKenzie. “We did the best as we could but we didn’t have the equipment, technology and communication,” he said. “We couldn’t talk to New Paltz Police and they couldn’t talk to us.”
Before this incident, the police had never dealt with this immense of a situation. However, since the shooting, many positive and constructive changes have taken place. The three different police agencies in New Paltz – the Sheriff’s Office, SUNY New Paltz campus and State Police now have exchangeable communication, where they are now able to communicate to each other via radio. There has also been active shooter response training, in case of similar situations arising.
“Back then, State Police had their tactics. New Paltz police had their tactics,” said McKenzie. “Now we go the range together, we qualify together, we go to school together. We even formed a Mid-Hudson law enforcement training group.”
Today, McKenzie and Quiepo both agree that they are better police officers and that police agencies are fully prepared.
“We were very lucky that there was just one casualty, a black Labrador,” said McKenzie. “Nobody knew this could ever happen, nobody expected this to happen. If something like this happened today, we definitely are more prepared, not saying that we are gonna be 100% prepared, but definitely better prepared.”
This article is part of a multimedia report on the June 21, 2001 shooting in New Paltz by the Spring 2011 Feature Writing class at SUNY New Paltz.
