Fallen S.C. deputy remembered for his love and determination

By Ted Clifford
The State

RICHLAND COUNTY, S.SC. — Barely 23, Jacob Salrin had been a Richland County sheriff’s deputy just eighteen months when he died in a collision while on duty. But in his short life and even shorter service, those who knew him say he set a standard for kindness, passion, and determination that will endure forever.

“He was a model police officer,” Richland County Sheriff Leon Lott said at the funeral service Thursday morning. “Yes, his life may have been short in time, but the time he lived was so full and the people he touched was so great. The dash between the day he was born and last Friday was a dash full of life, so much life, so much living. So don’t worry about how short it was, just remember how good it was.”

Jacob Salrin died around 8 p.m. on Sept. 28 in a collision Volvo tractor-trailer that was making a left turn across Bluff Road in Columbia. The young deputy, who was on duty at the time patrolling the Lower Richland community, was pronounced dead at the scene.

On Thursday before 11 a.m., a procession led by roughly a dozen police motorcycles, riding in pairs, arrived at the The Meeting Place Church of Greater Columbia, located in Dentsville, less than two miles from the Richland County Sheriff’s Department headquarters.

In attendance among the hundreds of mourners were dignitaries including SLED Chief Mark Keel, state corrections department Director Bryan P. Stirling and Richland County Council Chairman Overture Walker. Law enforcement officers from across the state, from Greenville to the Isle of Palms, from Florence to Pelion attended.

The mourners arrived to find long rows of sheriff’s deputies standing stiffly at attention under a cloudless blue sky. An American flag hung from the ladder of a fire truck. The processional was led by a bagpiper, playing “Going Home.”

New recruits and seasoned veterans stood side by side in black uniforms; written in gold lettering on the backs of many uniforms was “Peace Officer.” The old-fashioned title represents a higher ideal of law enforcement, Lott has said.

It was an ideal that Jacob lived up to. Originally from Springfield, Illinois, he joined the Richland County Sheriff’s Department in March 2022 and graduated from the South Carolina Criminal Justice Academy in January 2023. At the academy, he was awarded the Clifford A. Moyer marksmanship award, and just before the accident he was selected as the Deputy of the Quarter for his region. The award will be presented posthumously later this month.

This drive for excellence defined Jacob, said his cousin Chris Salrin, who spoke on behalf of the family.

“He worked daily on becoming the best version, the victorious version of himself,” Salrin said.

A regular journaler, Jacob would write about his strong faith and affirmations that drove him to better himself every day. “Intercourse mediocrity,” he wrote, according to Lott, who told the church to laughter that he had replaced a “four-letter ‘F word’” in deference to the setting.

“Today is the best day to be a police officer,” he wrote on another occasion. This drive defined his working life: He loved shifts working security at the courthouse and answering calls, Lott said. He worked out five days a week at the sheriff’s department gym, instead of the required one day, and recorded all of the workouts in his journal. Recounting this routine with something approaching wonder, Lott said he learned that Jacob saw his physical fitness as respecting his body as the temple of God.

His family remembered him as a positive and driven young man, who set his mind to goals and overcame his setbacks. When he found himself deep on the roster of his high school football team, he committed himself to being a good teammate; when an injury prevented a career in the military, he found his calling and purpose in law enforcement.

But Jake was never ambitious for the sake of ambition alone, Chris Salrin said. Instead, Jake “put his full heart into his career” and modeled sacrificial love for all those around him.

“It gives of itself because it knows no other way,” Chris Salrin said.

The love expressed itself in his enormous devotion to his family. In one cherished family story, Chriss recalled how a12-year-old Jake, being so excited to give his father a hug, accidentally ran straight into a glass door and bounced off into a backwards somersault.

A special love was reserved for his sister, just 20 months older than Jake. The two of them survived a tornado together in 2003, and the siblings were so close that he would let her cut his hair.

“They were like Batman and Robin. Han Solo and Chewbacca. Peanut butter and jelly,” Chris said.

He loved Tom Cruise, and would take any opportunity to hum “Danger Zone” from “Top Gun.” He loved fantasy football and never shied away from asking for a trade. His love of McDonald’s was so renowned among other sheriff’s deputies that they took to calling it McJake’s.

The death of a devout and well-liked young deputy had shaken some members of the sheriff’s department, Lott said. One sergeant on the scene that night had written on Facebook that he questioned ”where was God when Jacob was killed,” Lott said. But on seeing a shooting star streaking across the night sky, the sergeant knew that Jacob was where he needed to be, Lott said.

“The best way to memorialize him: Be like Jake.” Lott said.

As he slowly saluted the casket, the Richland County sheriff choked up. “Rest in peace my son, I’ll see you in that gym in heaven.”

Salrin was laid to rest in Elmwood Cemetery in a Catholic ceremony. Following a 21-gun salute, hundreds of law enforcement stood in rows around the grave under the hot sun, as six helicopters flew over in one final salute for the young deputy.