Lebanon police killing: 'A terribly sad day for all of us,' as a town loses its innocence

Coverage: Videos: The latest on the Lebanon County police shooting

On Dec. 7, 1878, a man named Joe Raber – Old Joe, they called him – drowned in the Indiantown Creek in northern Lebanon County.

His death, at first, was thought to be an accident, officials thought he had suffered a bout of vertigo while crossing the creek on a board and fell in. It wasn’t too far-fetched. Old Joe was known to drink more than his fair share during his daily visits to the tavern in the Cold Spring Hotel.

It turned out it wasn’t quite true. What really happened, as was discovered two months later, was that a group of six men, Civil War veterans who coincidentally all had blue eyes, had purchased a $1,000 insurance policy on Old Joe’s life and then drowned him in the creek. It was a scam that the six men plied a number of times. The men, dubbed The Blue-Eyed Six, were eventually convicted and five of them were hanged for their crimes, only one escaping the hangman’s noose.

It is the most notorious crime in Lebanon County history.

Or had been until Thursday, March 31, 2022.

'Lebanon just doesn't make the news'

On that afternoon, four Lebanon City police officers responded to a domestic violence call in the 1100 block of Forest Street in the city’s north end.

Travis Joseph Shaud, a 34-year-old man with a history of mental health issues and violence, had broken into the house, occupied by family members, and police were called.

When police tried entering the house, according to the Lebanon County District Attorney’s office, Shaud opened fire. The officers returned fire. But it was too late.

Two officers were wounded. A third, Lt. William Lebo, a 40-year veteran with the department, a month from retirement, was killed.

The violence has shocked this closely knit, blue-collar town of 25,747 in the hills of central Pennsylvania – a town known more for its bologna than violence.

Bruce Bomberger, the archivist and librarian at the county historical society, said he was struck when TV news reporters from nearby cities felt compelled to describe Lebanon and its population.

“Lebanon just doesn’t make the news,” he said. “Lebanon, for its size, is relatively free from that kind of violence - other cities, like York, Lancaster and Reading, but not Lebanon.”

'A terrible tragedy'

The Lebanon Farmer’s Market, near the center of town at the intersection of Ninth and Cumberland, the main routes in town, was bustling on Friday. But it also seemed kind of somber and quiet.

“It’s a terrible tragedy,” said Wayne Carey, proprietor of Candy Rama, a large stand selling all varieties of dentist-disapproved sweets.

Lebo frequented the market and was a longtime regular customer at Candy Rama. Carey couldn’t for the life of him recall what his favorite candy was. He did remember that Lebo was “a good guy.”

A lot of people knew Lebo. Carey said, “We’re a city, but we’re small enough to know a lot of people.”

And while one of the first things people say when asked to describe Lebanon is “quiet,” it has seen an uptick in violent crime of late. There have been two homicides in the city, and another just over the city line, since the beginning of the year - including a drive-by shooting of a 13-year-old boy. There were only three homicides in Lebanon in all of 2021.

“Crime’s going up and up more,” said Dee Sanders, who owns the Diva’s Have to Eat food stand in the market. “I don’t think this town has ever had this happen before.”

Sanders has lived in Lebanon for 18 years, moving to town from New York City “to get away from this kind of stuff.”

Just the third cop killed in the city's history

Lebo is just the third Lebanon City police officer to be killed in the line of duty in the town’s history, the last occurring in 1903.

On March 28, 1890, according to the Officer Down Memorial Page, a man named Andrew Shirk got drunk in a downtown bar and took a shot at the bartender. When Police Chief Aaron McCord apprehended him at the corner of Eighth and Cumberland streets, Shirk fired a single shot into McCord’s right temple. Shirk was later captured in a nearby town and served 12 years in prison after being convicted of second-degree murder.

On Feb. 14, 1903, a man named David Shaud killed a woman who had testified against him in a burglary trial, and when police tried to arrest him, “a desperate struggle” ensued, according to news reports from the time. The struggle ended in the death of Officer Cyrus Shaeffer, a 38-year-old three-year veteran of the department.

“I just hope people understand and respect the police after this,” said John Draude, who had a faded sign in the window of his model railroad shop proclaiming “We Support Our Lebanon Police Department.” “They’re doing a hard job.”

Who kills a police officer?

Lebo’s murder, and the three other recent homicides, has shattered the town’s belief that it is not the kind of place where this kind of thing happens. More than one person expressed disbelief – who kills a police officer?

Amanda Hamilton, whose family owns Gus Deraco’s Italian Sandwiches on Cumberland Street, lamented that. The shop – which has been in existence since 1950 when Gus Deraco delivered hoagies with his 1934 Studebaker hearse (“Hoagies to die for,” he advertised) – counts a lot of police officers among its customers. She may not know all of their names, but, as she said, “I’ll be walking in Walmart and see someone and say, “Hi, small cheesesteak, no onions.”

She’s concerned about gun violence. “It shouldn’t be so easy for anybody to get a gun,” she said. “It’s scary raising a child in this day and age.”

The police 'are very close to the community'

This is what kind of town Lebanon is: Beth Keller, who owns Keller Insurance with her husband Les, said, “I’ve lived here 40 years and I’m not considered a local. It’s one of those things.” She said, “Lebanon’s about 20 years behind the times. People still pay bills in cash here.”

Lt. Lebo’s death was shocking to her. She and her husband are acquainted with a lot of the police officers, Les from working with them on service group projects. “Raising money for a drug dog, that kind of thing,” Les said. Usually, when there’s gun violence, his wife said, “it’s kids against each other.”

“I don’t know if any of those police officers ever fired their weapons in a case like this,” Beth, a 20-year veteran of the Army National Guard, said. “It’s shocking to a lot of people ,and I’ve seen some things.”

The city’s police officers did things like read to kids at the library, Les said. They are community minded, he said, and police the town in that manner, he said. “The police department is very close to the community.”

Les, who grew up in the county and has lived here all of his 77 years, said, “We never had too many problems until the last 20 years or so, like a lot of cities.”

'A terribly sad day'

Wayne Carey, the candy stand operator, echoed what Les said.

He said the police would rather teach you how to avoid getting a ticket than give you a ticket. That’s how they are, he said. “We’re very blessed to have the police department we have,” he said.

Lebo’s death will “pull us together and we’ll come out of this stronger.”

But, for now, he said, “It’s a terribly sad day for all of us.”

Columnist/reporter Mike Argento has been a York Daily Record staffer since 1982. Reach him at mike@ydr.com.

This article originally appeared on Lebanon Daily News: Lebanon police killing: A town faces the somber reality of gun violence