A TIME FOR MOURNING\Comrades, family bid officer farewell.

Byline: Kermit Pattison Daily News Staff Writer

As his widow grieved beside the man who accidentally killed her husband, Oxnard police Officer James Jensen was laid to rest Monday in a funeral attended by more than 2,700 mourners.

Police officers from across Southern California mourned the tragic slaying of the young officer shot last week by his mentor and close friend in a case of mistaken identity during a narcotics raid.

Mourners remembered an ambitious young man who tirelessly threw himself into police work and coaching Little League - impatiently charging ahead to the point where friends had to remind him to slow down.

And they mourned a young father and husband who, as he lay mortally wounded, begged his friends to take care of his wife and two small daughters.

"Wherever he went, he brought peace," said Oxnard Police Chief Harold Hurtt. "The people of Oxnard trusted Jim Jensen."

Jensen, 30, of Ventura was killed March 13 as his 12-person SWAT team from the Oxnard Police Department stormed the home of a suspected drug dealer.

Police said Jensen charged up the stairs first and threw a flash bang diversionary grenade. Seconds later, Sgt. Daniel Christian mistook Jensen for an armed suspect and opened fire with a 12-gauge automatic shotgun, mortally wounding his young protege and close friend.

Throughout the funeral, the widow and the officer who killed her husband mourned side by side. Police said Jennifer Jensen requested that Christian accompany her through the day.

"We as a team are not casting blame and we are not making excuses," Officer Rob Flinn, a member of the SWAT team and close friend of Jensen's, told the mourners. "We are, however, sharing responsibility."

A long line of somber-faced officers with black bands stretched across their badges filed into the chapel of the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints in Ventura. They came from Simi Valley, Oxnard and Ventura and from more distant places like Kern County, San Bernardino, San Marino, Santa Barbara, Glendale, Los Angeles and Newport Beach.

SWAT teams from Oxnard, Ventura and Los Angeles filed in, clad in their jumpsuits. Among the other mourners were firefighters and paramedics in their dress uniforms and Jensen's baseball team wearing its red sunset Little League jerseys.

"We come to this situation grieving," said Bishop Earl Jardine. "But grief and love are certainly compatible emotions. We have them both today."

Elizabeth Lopez, Jensen's sister-in-law, recalled how he grew up as strong-willed boy who went through a period of rebellion before being taken under the wing of a local law officer, getting his life together and joining the U.S. Marines.

Mourners described a family man who doted on his two small daughters, Lindsay, 5, and Katie, 3. Just a few days before he died, Jensen proudly showed friends a small playhouse he had set up in his back yard for his girls.

"Jim's last words before he left this life and earth," said Lopez, "were 'Take care of my wife and children.' "

Hurtt described Jensen as a gung-ho officer who as a rookie rode with other officers in his off-duty hours to learn the streets of the city.

"Jim Jensen always had time for everyone," Hurtt said. "He was everyone's friend. He looked at us all as equals. He always judged us not by rank, but by the quality of our character."

And mourner after mourner recalled his trademark grin. The proud, devilish grin even appeared as his SWAT team geared up for the fateful raid, said Officer Bill Lewis, who led the team into the home.

"He had his game face on," said Lewis. "But I saw that little smirk."

Just after 6 a.m. the team burst into the condo and Lewis heard the words every cop dreads: Shots fired, officer down.

"He knew he was leaving us," Lewis said. "Despite (the pain) he was feeling, frightened but strong, he wanted us to take care of his family."

Others recalled how Jensen earned the nickname "Drill Sergeant Jim" as a Little League coach who would push kids with a kick in the pants or a pat on the back.

"I can't think of a better role model for our kids," said coach Mike Bocanegra as he choked back a sob. "It's the special people this world will miss because there are so very few."

Outside the church, thousands of officers stood at attention as eight pallbearers carried the coffin into the hearse.

Led by a phalanx of motorcycle officers, the procession wound through Ventura to the Ivy Lawn Cemetery followed by miles of police cars with their headlights on and their emergency lights flashing.

At the cemetery, a bagpipe player pierced the air with the strains of "Amazing Grace."

Mourners approached to lay bouquets atop the casket. One Little League coach gently laid a baseball atop a pair of white gloves on the coffin.

Then Jensen's daughter Lindsay came past in the arms of an older woman. The little girl laid a yellow rose atop her father's coffin and turned away.

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PHOTO

Photo (1--Color) Jennifer Jensen is given a flag, while Sgt. Daniel Christian, who shot Jensen by mistake, holds Lindsay, one of the slain officer's daughters. (2--Color) Members of the Oxnard Police Department carry the casket from the church after the ceremony. (3) A police funeral procession makes its way down Main Street in Ventura on Monday to honor slain Oxnard Police Officer James Jensen. Jeremy Greene/Special to the Daily News