OFFICER KILLED IN SHOOTOUT

Two others are injured as raid goes horribly wrong in mere seconds, witness says

A Portland policewoman was shot dead and two plainclothes officers were
wounded Tuesday as they raided the home of a self-avowed hater of women and
police.

Colleen Waibel, 44, is the city's first woman officer killed in the line of
duty and appears to be the second in Oregon's history.

She was with at least four other officers in an apparent marijuana raid
when a flurry of armor-piercing rounds from an automatic weapon struck her
in the upper chest and lower abdomen, just above and below her bulletproof
vest. She was dead on arrival at Legacy Emanuel Hospital. The shootings
occurred just before noon inside the front door of a blue, barn-like rental
home at 2612 S.E. 111th Ave.

After a 2 1/2-hour standoff, police fired four or five rounds of tear gas
and advanced on the house with an armored Oregon State Police car.

About 2:30 p.m., Steven Douglas Dons, 37, walked out the front door with a
bullet wound to the chest suffered during the initial fire fight. Police
also hit him in the chest with a nonlethal "beanbag." He was taken to
Oregon Health Sciences University Hospital.

Dons had shed his clothes, apparently because the tear gas had burned his
skin, and was loaded into the ambulance naked.

He has a long criminal history, including violence against Las Vegas police.

Injured were Portland officers Kim Keist, 39, who was in critical condition
at Legacy Emanuel Hospital with gunshot wounds to the chest and arm, and
Sgt. Jim Hudson, 42, who was struck in the hand.

The incident began unfolding at 11:48 a.m., when at least five Portland
officers arrived at the house.

Waibel was in uniform, and Keist and Hudson were in plainclothes - navy
blue windbreakers with "Police" in yellow block letters on the back. All
three wore Kevlar vests. The trio knocked on the front door while at least
two other officers staked out the back door.

They knocked on the door and yelled "Portland police" six times, neighbor
Jason Germany said and police confirmed.

When they got no answer, the officers grabbed a concrete stepping stone and
rammed it three times into the door, bashed it open, and were met with
gunfire in the entryway, said Germany, who watched the incident from his
apartment balcony across the street.

Waibel and Keist were hit immediately. Hudson was hit but returned fire,
allowing other officers to drag both policewomen from the home. Officers
called dispatchers with a "Code 0," meaning an officer down.

Lt. Cliff Madison, a police spokesman, said that although police did not
have a warrant, something inside the house led officers to break down the
door. When asked what that was, Madison refused to comment. The officers
did obtain a warrant six hours after the shooting, Madison said.

Germany, a 23-year-old Army veteran who served in Somalia, said he watched
as what looked to be a routine raid went horribly wrong in seconds. It was
the second time in six months that a Portland officer was fatally shot on
duty. Officer Thomas L. Jeffries died July 21.

Germany saw the officers arrive in a blue truck and strap on protective
vests. He told his wife, "They're doing a bust across the street" and went
to watch. "I thought it would be like watching `Cops' on TV."

Staccato gunfire awakened apartment resident Ivan Smolcic, 53, who has
lived there 12 years.

"It was one after another, boom, boom, boom, like machine gun," Smolcic
said. "I heard yelling, screaming and crying."

Germany said he didn't see flashes but saw smoke drifting out the front
door. "I thought, 'Ambush.' "

He yelled for a 4-year-old neighbor boy who was playing in the street to
run home.

"I saw one male officer pick up the female officer who was injured. He
carried her over his shoulder. He put her down on the grass. She was
rolling around."

The two male officers then pulled Waibel from the house and ran for cover.
They laid her out but did not perform cardiopulmonary resuscitation. "Her
head was limp, and I knew she had passed away," Germany said.

A call to grieve

Portland Mayor Vera Katz, outside the Legacy Emanuel Hospital emergency
room, called for the community to grieve for the dead officer and pray for
Keist, who was in surgery until about 5 p.m. Tuesday.

"It's time for this community to ask about the kinds of weapons we allow
people to have," Katz said. "The weapon that was used was very, very
powerful, and it went right through the vest."

Police have not released the types or number of weapons Dons kept.

"There are a lot of people in this community who don't respect human life,
who carry very, very destructive weapons and don't hesitate to use them,
and it's time to have a discussion about that," Katz said.

Said Police Chief Charles Moose, "Our congressional delegation has not been
strong and diligent in their efforts" to limit dangerous weapons.

Moose turned angry when a reporter suggested that police shootings are rare.

"It does happen in Portland, and people who want to pretend this is a farm
town don't know how dangerous a job it is to be a police officer here," he
said.

Dons was alone in the house and apparently lived there with Jeffrey Moore,
who had rented it for $850 a month for about five years, said Anita
Geistlinger, who owns the home. Moore was not involved in the standoff.

Geistlinger didn't know Dons but said Moore worked at Mt. Hood Community
College and never missed a rent check. "He's been a good renter and never
caused me any problems."

Dons was known as a neighborhood smart-aleck but a good employee when he
worked at a nearby Astro gasoline station, 11214 S.E. Division St.

Co-workers, including Astro managers Dave Shaddon and his wife, Shannon,
said Dons didn't bear pressure well and sometimes complained of hearing
voices.

"People were afraid he might come down there and shoot them. But I can't
picture him doing something like this," said Dave Shaddon.

Former co-workers said Dons frequently bragged about the automatic weapons
he could get and how he hated police officers and women.

"He used to say, `Anybody screws with me, they're dead,'O" he said.

Dons' employment application states that he graduated from Aptos (Calif.)
High School, was an airman first class, and lived at least 15 years in Las
Vegas.

Police in Las Vegas said he compiled an arrest record between 1979 and
1993: Two counts of obstructing a police officer and single counts of
resisting arrest, resisting a police officer, battery with a deadly weapon,
using a deadly weapon in the commission of a crime, and being an ex-felon
in possession of a firearm.

"Based on his history, you can pretty much call him a career criminal,"
said Phil Rollins, spokesman for the Las Vegas Metro Police Department.

Dons is under heavy guard at OHSU Hospital, where he is in serious condition.

A sound like firecrackers

Naturopathic physician Thomas Abshier, whose office is near the shooting
scene, heard what he thought were 20 firecrackers. Then, he said, an eerie
quiet enveloped the neighborhood.

Dennis Freitas, an employee of TNCC Construction Co., said, "Then all of a
sudden, boom, boom, boom, (police) came out of the woodwork."

Nearby resident Rick Shipley said the house where the raid occurred is
about 40 feet from the street and appears to be a garage converted to
living space.

Jennifer Freeman, 19, said she was visiting her mother a block away when
she saw an older officer approaching. "He was bawling his head off."

John Beeler, 80, was working in his backyard next door when the shots rang out.

"It sounded like the Fourth of July," he said. "My mouth flew open. I
couldn't really believe what I was seeing."

Said Beeler's companion, Kay Valladao, "That's too close to home for comfort."

Police with the bureau's Special Emergency Reaction Team drove an armored
car to the front of the house after using it to push a blue pickup out of
the way. Using a megaphone, they ordered Dons out.

Seventeen-year veteran

Waibel joined the bureau 17 years ago as a civilian in the records office.
She also was a deputy with the Washington County Sheriff's Office. She is
survived by her husband, Mark Fortner, a sergeant with the bureau's East
Precinct. She has two children.

Fortner had taken a sick day Tuesday and learned about his wife's death at
home. He immediately left for Emanuel.

Noble Keist, a retired Multnomah County sheriff's sergeant who has been
married to Officer Keist since 1986, saw his wife after surgery. She was
still unconscious.

"Her color's good," he said. "She had two rounds inside her body, one of
which is still there.

Officer Keist has been with the bureau 15 years and is a former St. Helens
police officer. In April 1990, she chased a motorist who fled from a
traffic stop. During a scuffle on his front porch, the man grabbed Keist's
gun and used it to wound another policewoman.

Neighbors and citizens who heard about the shooting made a steady stream to
the bureau's East Precinct, bringing food and flowers. By 5:30 p.m., so
many donations had been made that police asked them to stop.

"We appreciate it, but it's overwhelming," said Sgt. Jim Parks. "There
isn't room for it."

"There's going to be a lot of officers coming in here, and none of them
wants to talk at this time. They just want to be alone."

City Commissioner Charlie Hales walked out of the precinct, his suit coat
drooping, looking for words that would make sense.

"It always seems we lose our best," Hales said.

Said Multnomah County Sheriff's Sgt. Brian Martinek: "This is going to send
a shock wave. Police are a close-knit group. . . . We're just recovering
from the Jeffries shooting. Emotionally, this is going to set us way back."

Peter Farrell, David R. Anderson, Hal Bernton, Eric Gorski, Ashbel S.
Green, Jennifer Bjorhus, Norm Maves, Dana Tims, Dan Hortsch, James Long,
Michele Parente and Pete Schulberg of The Oregonian staff contributed to
this report.