The visit was quiet, almost private—the kind of thing a person does because it matters
Before taking office, Eric Adams quietly visited a Brooklyn church to honor two officers killed years earlier — not for cameras, but out of genuine grief. A former officer himself, Adams carries the weight of colleagues lost to the badge, alongside relationships with those harmed by policing's failures. In him, the city has a mayor whose philosophy on law enforcement was not built in policy rooms, but in the long aftermath of violence and loss.
- A mayor-elect slips into a memorial service unannounced, signaling that his approach to policing runs deeper than political calculation.
- The 2014 execution-style murders of Officers Liu and Ramos left a wound Adams has never stopped tending — he built a lasting relationship with Liu's family that now shapes his governance.
- Adams entered the NYPD as a rookie in the 1980s and lost colleagues to the job, giving him a firsthand understanding of the dangers officers face that few city leaders can claim.
- Yet he has also stood with victims of police abuse, forcing his administration to hold two uncomfortable truths at once: officers deserve protection, and the system demands accountability.
- The tension between those truths defines his mayoralty — a high-wire act between communities that rarely trust the same person to speak for them.
In the quiet days before his inauguration, Eric Adams attended a Brooklyn memorial for two officers murdered seven years prior. He brought no press, made no remarks — it was the kind of visit a person makes because it means something to them personally.
Officers Wenjian Liu and Rafael Ramos had been killed in an execution-style attack in December 2014. Adams, then Brooklyn's borough president, had gone to Liu's family not as a politician but as someone who had worn the same uniform and understood the particular grief of losing someone to street violence. That relationship endured — through his mayoral campaign, his transition, and into his administration — becoming a quiet but powerful influence on how he thinks about policing.
Adams joined the NYPD as a rookie in the 1980s and lost colleagues over the years. For him, the dangers of the job are not abstract. Neither is the harm the institution can cause: he has also maintained relationships with victims of police abuse, people wounded by the very system he once served.
His stated philosophy attempts to hold both realities — that officers face genuine danger and deserve support, and that the department requires real accountability. It is a balance born not from ideology but from years of showing up, grieving, and staying present with people on both sides of policing's most painful fault lines.
Eric Adams slipped into a Brooklyn church in the days before his inauguration as New York City's mayor, attending a memorial service for two police officers murdered seven years earlier. He did not speak. He did not call the press. The visit was quiet, almost private—the kind of thing a person does because it matters to them, not because it advances a political narrative.
The officers were Wenjian Liu and Rafael Ramos, killed in an execution-style attack in December 2014. For Adams, their deaths carried particular weight. He had worn the same uniform they wore, had started as a rookie in the 1980s, had learned firsthand what it meant to put on a badge knowing the risks. He had lost friends and colleagues to the job. When Liu and Ramos were killed, Adams was serving as Brooklyn's borough president. He went to Officer Liu's family in the immediate aftermath, not as a politician making an appearance, but as someone who understood grief and the specific gravity of losing someone to violence on the street.
That visit became the beginning of something that would shape Adams's entire approach to governing the city's largest police force. The relationship he built with Liu's family did not end with condolences. It continued through his campaign for mayor, through his transition, and into his administration. It became part of the lens through which he would view policing itself.
Adams's philosophy on law enforcement cannot be separated from these personal connections. He carries within him both the perspective of someone who has worn the uniform and faced its dangers, and the relationships he has maintained with families who have lost loved ones to police work. This is not abstract policy for him. It is lived experience, reinforced by years of showing up, remembering, and staying present with people who have endured unimaginable loss.
At the same time, Adams has also built relationships with victims of police abuse—people harmed by the very institution he once served. His stated approach to policing attempts to hold both truths simultaneously: that officers face real danger and deserve support and protection, and that the system itself can inflict harm and requires accountability and reform. It is a delicate balance, one that reflects his own complicated history with the police department and his understanding that the question of how to police a city of eight million people cannot be answered by ideology alone, but must be grounded in the actual experiences of the people affected by those decisions.
Notable Quotes
Adams has understood the dangers of policing and has mourned the deaths of friends and colleagues since his own days as a rookie officer— Context from Adams's career history
The Hearth Conversation Another angle on the story
Why did Adams attend that memorial service so quietly? Why not make it public?
Because it wasn't about him. He'd known Liu's family for years by then. It was about showing up for people who were still grieving.
But he's the mayor now. Doesn't that change what his presence means?
It does, which is probably why he kept it personal. Once you turn grief into a photo opportunity, you've changed what it is.
So how does that private relationship shape his actual policies?
He's trying to hold two things at once—respect for officers who die doing the job, and accountability for officers who abuse their power. Most mayors pick a side. Adams seems to think you don't have to.
Is that possible? Can you actually do both?
That's the question he's going to have to answer as mayor.