The Paul Simard Story
New station honors fallen Lewiston policeman
Lewiston Daily Sun - Friday, November 14, 1986
Reprinted by permission of the Lewiston Sun-Journal

By Mike Boehmer
Sun staff writer

Former Lewiston Police Chief Lucien Longtin remembers July 7,1958, as if it were yesterday.

"I was in Car 10 in the Lisbon Road area," said Longtin, recalling the day nearly a decade before he began a l2-year term as chief. "Paul Simard was in Car 9 in the Sabattus Road area."

Longtin, a patrolman like Simard, was called into the police station to assist in a domestic incident. A neighbor had reported that Sandra Louise Knowlton, 14, was firing gun shots at him and passing cars.

"(Lt. Leo W.) Rancourt and Paul were waiting," Longtin continued. "They jumped into my car and we met (Capt.) Ralph Fraser and went to Sabattus. The rest is history".

After arriving at the wooded area along Pinewoods Road, the officers and Miss Knowlton's mother attempted to coax the girl to drop the .22 caliber gun. Miss Knowlton had left home the previous day after a family dispute, according to testimony at her trial.

Simard was the first officer to confront the teen-ager face-to-face. Minutes later, he became the first Lewiston policeman to be killed in the line of duty.

In salute of Simard's sacrifice, the new Lewiston Police Station is being named in his honor.

"I'm very happy." Longtin said. "I understand there were other names mentioned, but I don't think they had a choice. This is really speculation, but I'm sure if Paul had not been killed he certainly would have been one of the top people in the department. He was very dedicated."

Fraser, who now lives in Pittsburgh, testified in 1958 he heard Simard's last words: "Don't be gun happy." The captain said in court Miss Knowlton responded: "Get that other flatfoot out of the way or he'll get shot."

Two shots were fired: One just missed Fraser and hit a nearby tree trunk. The other struck Simard in the forehead, killing him at age 32.

Eventually, Miss Knowlton left the woods. After days of police interrogation and weeks of observation at the Augusta State Hospital, she was the focus of one of the most widely publicized trials in Androscoggin County history.

A 12-member jury found Miss Knowlton guilty of manslaughter. She was sentenced to five to 10 years in the old Women's Reformatory in Skowhegan. A Maine Department of Corrections spokeswoman said she was discharged on June 6, 1966.

Although the woman has since married and is now raising four boys, "she has suffered all of these 28 years," said Mrs. Everett Knowlton Sr., her mother.

"I'm glad they are doing something for (Simard)," she added. "He wasn't to blame. My daughter wasn't neither, but that was years ago. My husband and I have hurt, too. I don't like to talk about it."

Anita Simard, widow of the slain officer, said life wasn't easy for her family either. When her husband died, she became the single parent of daughters ages 5 and 10.

"Naturally they missed a lot out of life being brought up without a male presence," Mrs. Simard said. "But they adjusted. They had a lot of family support."

Mrs. Simard said she, daughters Pauline Comeau of Lewiston and Claudette Moors of Pennsylvania and her six grandchildren "are all very happy and proud" the station is being dedicated in honor of Paul J. Simard.

"I'm sure he would be very, very proud; the family is," she said. "He really enjoyed his work. He never refused work when they needed him. That night, he was supposed to pull a double shift."

Mrs. Simard said she never considered that her husband could be killed working the job he had grown to love. Simard, a Lewiston High School football player, joined the force in 1953 after a stint in the military.

"I never thought it could happen," she said. "I knew the risk was big, but it had never happened before." Paul J. Simard's death was such a jarring incident that it has remained in the minds of Lewiston-Aubuin residents for nearly three decades.

"It was the first (and only death of a Lewiston policeman)," Mrs. Simard said. "People will call me and say, I know exactly what I was doing on that day." It's like President Kennedy's death. It was something you hadn't heard of .

"I'm amazed that the people remember. It's in the back of their minds. Something like (the dedication) will make people remember."