Fallen sergeant watched over deputies, always lent a hand and loved his wife

Spokane County Sheriff’s Office Sgt. Kenneth Salas was shopping at Costco a few years ago when he accidentally ran into a woman with his cart, knocking her to the floor. He immediately tried to help the woman to her feet, and in doing so, pulled the tiny woman completely off the ground and into his arms.
“Literally, Ken was sweeping his future wife off her feet,” said retired Spokane County Sheriff’s Deputy Eric Epperson.
Salas and Jiaxiu Yang would marry on New Year’s Eve 2023. Salas, 59, planned to retire next month and hit the road with his wife and their two dogs looking for a home to buy in Florida, according to sheriff’s office Sgt. Griffin Criswell.
Those plans were cut short Aug. 9 when the 34-year sheriff’s office veteran was hit by a motorcyclist as he was helping a driver remove a hay bale from Interstate 90 near Cheney.
Epperson, Criswell, Sheriff John Nowels and others reflected on the life of their loyal and compassionate coworker and friend in front of hundreds of people, including many law enforcement members from the region, at Salas’ funeral Wednesday afternoon at the Spokane Convention Center.
“Both in uniform and out of uniform, Ken was the same man,” Nowels said. “He was a man of honor, he was a man of integrity and as has been said before, so even-tempered. I would say that he is a model of what we as a community and what we as a sheriff’s office expect of our peace officers.”
With hundreds at either side, Salas’ wife and family walked down the aisle to take their seats closest to the stage as members of an honor guard stood on each side saluting. Law enforcement officers in the crowd also raised their right hand to their brows.
On stage, a photo of Salas and his wife, as well as a portrait photo of the sergeant surrounded by a white floral wreath, could be seen.
Just before 1 p.m., nearly 40 bagpipers lined up on the second floor of the Convention Center with their chins held high. They were surrounded by nearly 80 other members of law enforcement waiting to be escorted inside.
Several local officials and law enforcement leaders attended, including Spokane Mayor Lisa Brown, Spokane Police Department Chief Kevin Hall, Spokane Valley Police Department Chief Dave Ellis, Kootenai County Sheriff Bob Norris, Spokane city Councilman Zack Zappone and Spokane Valley city Councilman Al Merkel.
Complete silence filled the air with the exception of a crying infant. Following the sound of a horn, law enforcement’s honor guard quietly walked down the aisle next to other police, deputies, friends, family and mourning members of the public.
Yang was guided to the front of the room by a deputy who clutched her forearm as she walked. Salas’ two German shepherds followed behind her.
A young musician sporting a red tie played “The Star-Spangled Banner” on a red electric guitar to honor the rock-loving fallen sergeant while the entire room stood in salute.
One of the flags presented by the honor guard was a Spokane County Sheriff’s flag adorned with yellow streamers for each of the members of the agency who died in the line of duty. Honor guard members and some of the deputies who worked closely with Salas took the stage, and one of them added another streamer for Salas.
Epperson, a friend of Salas for 40 years who provided Wednesday’s eulogy, described Salas as kind, caring, compassionate, generous, loving and hard working.
“If Ken had anything, it was because he made it happen,” Epperson said. “He worked hard for everything that he had. He was truly a self-made man.”
He said Salas loved motorcycles, rock ’n’ roll, Chevy Camaros, fishing, camping, and most of all, being with friends and family.
Salas moved to Spokane in 1980 from California and graduated from Rogers High School in 1983.
Epperson said Salas and Salas’ best friend were pulled over in the Garland District for speeding on their motorcycles as teenagers. After speaking with a Spokane police officer, “Ken looked to his best friend and said, ‘That’s the job I want,’ ” Epperson said.
“Little did Ken know that later in the future, that’s exactly what he would do.”
First, Salas joined the military and served with Epperson in the same military police unit. Salas and Epperson quickly became friends.
Epperson narrated a story from when he and Salas were sent down range to handle a crash during a training exercise at the Yakima Training Center. They were in the middle of nowhere of the vast Central Washington center trying to find the crash in the dark when the hillside next to them blew up from an artillery round. Another blast quickly followed.
“Ken never said a word about it,” Epperson said. “I, on the other hand, had a volley of expletives for every round that impacted next to us. We turned on our headlights and left the area as fast was we could. Afterward, the only thing Ken had to say to me was, ‘I had never seen you so mad.’ And that was Ken. Very even-tempered, a straight shooter and a good friend.”
Epperson described another story of Salas keeping a level head during a deployment to South Korea in 1989. Salas tried to drive a Jeep across a dangerous river when the vehicle was swept down the waterway. Salas, with water up to his waist, managed to get to safety several hundred feet down river.
Salas’ response to the near-death experience? “That was exciting,” Epperson said.
The two friends continued their service at the sheriff’s office.
“Ken was like a little brother to me, and I loved him as such,” Epperson said.
Epperson read other retired deputies’ stories about Salas that painted the fallen sergeant as a “servant leader” who was always approachable, intelligent and willing to help his fellow deputies.
One of the deputies said Salas was about to move to a different position within the sheriff’s office, but the sergeant took another deputy under his wing and used his computer skills to bring one of the many broken computers in the office to life for the deputy. Salas downloaded some programs on the computer, showed him paperwork basics and a few tips on how to keep the boss happy before moving on to a new position.
“He saw a guy who needed help, he jumped into assist, and he asked for nothing in return,” Epperson read.
A seven-minute memorial video showing photos of Salas through the years from his youth, his career as a deputy, his wedding and relaxing off-duty with his wife and dogs played at one point during the funeral.
“Sharp Dressed Man,” by ZZ Top and “Carry on Wayward Son,” by Kansas were among the songs played in Salas’ video, likely a nod to the former sergeant’s love of classic rock.
Sporting a cowboy hat and his dress green uniform, Nowels said Salas, who he worked with at the sheriff’s office for 28 years, served on- and off-duty. Even his neighbors could attest to his dependability and willingness to help at any time of day.
“That’s a pretty special life to lead,” he said.
Nowels thanked the deputies who provided medical aid to Salas on I-90 for their bravery and skill acting in the most difficult moments anyone can face.
“I hope when we are all united with Ken, he gets the opportunity to thank you for the comfort you provided him in those last moments, and the heroic efforts you made trying to save him,” he said.
Spokane County Superior Court Judge Annette Plese told the audience she first met Salas more than 30 years ago when he worked in detention services. She got to know him better when he was a deputy.
Plese would chat with Salas when he presented search warrants to her.
“He was very polite, calling me ‘ma’am,’ and always thanking me for considering his search warrant, even when I denied it,” she said.
Plese said she could tell he was a veteran and law enforcement officer by the way he spoke to her – professionally, respectfully and kind.
She said she ran into him over the past several years on the courthouse campus and they would talk about changes in the criminal justice system during their long tenures and laughed about how long they planned to continue working for the county. They also talked about their love for motorcycles.
Plese said Salas told her in December 2023 he was getting married and asked the judge to perform his wedding ceremony that New Year’s Eve to start 2024 with Yang as his wife. Plese said yes, and Salas visited her shortly after to bring her paperwork and talk about their plans.
“I can honestly say that speaking to him that day was very different,” Plese said. “He was absolutely head over heels … They met for coffee and he was hooked. When he spoke about Jiaxiu, his eyes would light up.”
She said he wanted the ceremony to be perfect and to make Yang look forward to every day they were together.
“Their wedding was beautiful,” Plese said. “It was perfect, and they were perfect together.”
Epperson read a statement from Yang, who described her late husband as a genuine man who made her feel safe.
“Meeting my husband has been the happiest, most beautiful and joyful time in my life,” she wrote. “Every day he surprised me.”
She said he was a great cook and great at remodeling houses. He taught her how to paint and build fences, she said.
They worked together at home, and when they got tired, they sat holding hands on the sofa as he shared his love for rock music he played in the background. She said they sometimes danced together, calling him a “wonderful dancer.”
Before heading to work, Salas gave her a kiss and made her coffee.
“He was always so caring and attentive to me,” she said.
Criswell, a sergeant who worked day shifts with Salas, said Salas’ life was defined by service to his country, community, fellow deputies and his wife.
“What defined him most was his calm demeanor, his kindness, his professionalism and his willingness to help anyone that needed it,” Criswell said.
As much as Salas dedicated to his work, his world revolved around his new wife and their two dogs. Salas was the happiest Criswell ever saw him after he got married.
Criswell said Salas would always tell him about the big lunches she would make for him when he went home on his break.
Salas was always offering to lend a hand, too.
If anyone said they had an issue with their house or car, Criswell could see his partner’s gears start turning to find ways to fix it.
“I’ve said many times, if you had the worst possible job at your house, Ken was the guy that without hesitation would be by your side,” Criswell said. “If it was 130 degrees out and I told him I needed help roofing my house, he would have shown up at 6 o’clock and had his tool belt on. That’s just who he was.”
Criswell holds the small moments he had with Salas most dear. He recalled several months ago coming into the office as Salas was watching a livestream of bald eagles raising their eaglets. The livestream ran for 24 hours a day for several months as the sergeants watched the birds grow.
Criswell came in one day after being gone for a week, and asked Salas about the eaglets. Salas told him the young birds learned to fly and none had returned to the nest for a while. Looking back, Criswell said the eaglets reminded him of an important life lesson.
“You never know when you’re seeing someone for the last time,” he said.
“Those eaglets also showed me that even in a job filled with stress and seriousness, Ken had a way of slowing things down, enjoying your company and just appreciating life’s beautiful moments,” Criswell continued.
He saw Salas the day before he died. Salas told him he was going to retire Sept. 30 and described his retirement plans with joy. He recently bought a large trailer to travel across the country with his wife and dogs.
“He spoke about it with such anticipation, as if the next chapter of his life was already unfolding in front of him,” Criswell said.
Criswell also read statements from deputies who worked in Salas’ “platoon.”
One deputy said he never saw Salas upset, and he enjoyed their many breakfasts together. He said Salas was a man of many stories – not all short, but intriguing.
“Unfortunately, you were never able to make it on one of our motorcycle rides, but I assure you, you will be with us on every ride from this point on,” the deputy wrote.
Another deputy said Salas’ focus was always on his deputies’ well-being, and he recognized the need for a healthy balance of home life and work.
“Ken was more than a sergeant, he was more than a supervisor,” the deputy said. “Ken was someone who cared about me as a husband, a father, a son and a person.”
A third deputy called Salas a role model and the definition of hard work and dedication. He embodied “servant leadership” and wasn’t afraid to do menial tasks to help deputies.
“Most importantly, if you were facing a problem, he knew when to listen and when to give advice,” the deputy wrote.
Toward the end of the ceremony, honor guard members removed the American flag from Salas’ casket, folded it and handed it to Nowels, who then gave it to Yang.
Later, Salas’ two dogs began to howl. Their cries became even more ear-splitting as seven Spokane County sheriff’s deputies acting as pallbearers wheeled Salas’ casket down the aisle and Yang walked with Salas’ flag. It was the only sound echoing through the room.
Nowels said those in mourning must not carry their grief as a burden.
“We need to carry Ken’s memory as a light, as an example of professionalism, of compassion and continued service,” Nowels said. “Let Ken’s life of service act as a guiding light to every one of us as we set out to stand. We will continue to stand against evil, we will continue to bring order to chaos and to bring peace instead of discord and hatred.”
Nowels said that’s how they’ll honor Salas’ memory.
“Sgt. Salas, Sarge, Ken, friend and humbled servant: rest easy, brother,” Nowels said. “We have the watch from here.”