Eulogies
Jason Harvey
Brother in Law
Good Morning. I am Louis’ brother in law Jason. On behalf of the family , I would like to thank you all, for attending and sharing in the celebration of Louis’ life today. Louis passed away peacefully at home at the end of his watch on May 17, 2022 surrounded by his family, friends and wife Jessica.
Our brother was a proud Asian American Man. Most of you knew him as Louis or Lou, Brother, Fatty, or by his given Chinese name Yiu Tak Tao. He was most proud however to be called Uncle You by his niece Pegeen or Gaw Gaw by his nephew MIlo.
Lou dedicated his life to law enforcement and felt great responsibility to be a selfless servant of the public as an FBI police officer. He eventually earned the rank of Lieutenant by living his life by the guiding standards of the FBI : Fidelity, Bravery, and Integrity. Here he spent his 27 year career until his end of watch on May 17, 2022. He worked hard to get to where he was and he was so proud. We are so proud.
Over the past several weeks as his friends， colleagues, neighbors, and family members came to say goodbye to Lou, they shared many funny, amusing, sad and entertaining situations / stories they had experienced with Lou. He was loved by so many people from all walks of life. He was a leader and a mentor, the glue that held the team together.
On 9/11, Lou raced from Federal plaza down to the World Trade Center, and luckily he left his first hand account of what happened that day. I won’t read it all, but I wanted to share one very descriptive quote that captures how harrowing that day was as he tried to take cover during the fall of the first tower.
“ I realized I was too far away from the stairwell of the subway, and being on the sidewalk I had no other choice but to brace up as close as I could to the rear of the vehicle nearest to me. What looked like confetti was a cruel illusion as it rained steel, bits of concrete, and most of all glass, all the while sounding like it was the 4th of July as it was hitting the pavement, and just for good measure a shower of unburned jet fuel landed on my backside and sprinkling onto the streets painting a scene from a war film. “
Miraculously, our family was OK that day and none of us were harmed. At least not on the surface. It wouldn’t be until nearly 20 years later that the consequences of that day would come back, and slowly take away our brother, your LT, from us all.
In 2018, Lou found out he had Acute Myeloid Leukemia. He spent the next 4 years fighting it, far longer than the original diagnosis. This is a testament to his fighting spirit, as well as the standard of care set by the nurses, doctors and all staff at Memorial Sloan Kettering Cancer Center.
He called this disease the unwanted gift because ironically, it brought us all closer together as a family.
May 4 became a significant day for the Tao family in 2018 when his niece Pegeen was born and two years later to the date in 2020 his nephew Milo. The children brought much joy and happiness to Lou’s life. Any given day, especially when he was feeling particularly unwell , Lou would watch videos of his niece and nephew. Their laughter and life explorations eased his pain. He was most grateful to his sisters for sharing their children's life with him. They say good things always come in threes, and in November 2020, Lou married his lifelong friend Jessica.
In the last four years, we’ve experienced so much pain, but also so much love and compassion. He met many new friends along the way, friends that became family. And this disease also gave him the gift of being able to properly say farewell to his friends and family and obtain closure.
His cancer began to grow aggressively several weeks ago, at which time he made the conscious decision to stop all treatments. He told us he had three final requests. One of the requests was to have his final meal cooked by his friend, a renowned french cook. The second was to watch a pre-release of the new John Wick 4 movie. The third was that he wanted the family to stay close.
Before his departure, we were able to fulfill two of his final wishes. Unfortunately, he passed within an hour of the representatives from the John Wick team arriving at his apartment to show him the movie.
Upon learning of this, Keanu Reeves and Chad Stahelski, the director of the film both sent videos of condolence, and this gesture really touched us, because of what those involved in producing this pre-release went through over the weekend to make it happen.
Music was another love of Louis’ . Music brought him joy, love, peace and comfort throughout his life especially over the past few years. Last weekend, during one of his last conversations with his sister Mimi, he told her his favorite song was Knockin’ On Heaven's Door by Bob Dylan. He repeatedly watched the music video. He felt it summed up the end of his life. The first stanza reads:
“Mama take this badge from me
I can't use it anymore
It's getting dark too dark to see
Feels like I'm knockin' on heaven's door.
Knock, knock, knockin’ on heaven door. “
Well Lou, all that knocking has finally paid off, and heaven finally decided to let you in. Continue to watch over and protect us with the same Fidelity, Bravery, and Integrity you lived your life by, and keep us safe.
Safe travels, brother. I know you are watching this and smiling.
Jessica Gonzalez
Wife
I truly believe that everything happens for reason. God had a plan for us. Not one that we could see or understand until now. Lou’s and I story started over two decades ago when colleagues would say to me when are you marrying that guy, he’s a good man. He really was a good man. We shared personal and professional goals, we shared beautiful moments and some sad ones. We enjoyed going out to restaurants after our shifts and eating all different types of foods. His passion for food was so much fun to watch and it made me happy watching him eat. Because if I ate like that, I would be rolling down Duane Street. Itried every dish he recommended at least once. When I decided to lose some weight, he was very worried about what are we going to do now. He was the first one to attempt to teach me how to drive, what a feat that was.
I mention the start of our journey because it brings us to this point. Lou and I spent days, weeks, hours talking about everything during his cancer journey. So, I decided to piece together conversations that we had especially after his two transplants about each of you here today.
To my sisters I want you to know how many hours I spent telling Jessica how proud I am of you. How honored I was that you guys made me an uncle. How I told Jessica about your successes, how good Sandy’s cooking is. Her cooking is good. How I played practical jokes on youwhen we were kids and maybe as adults. How each of you love me in your own way? I also told Jessica how much I love you guys dearly. Please take care of each other and never forget that I will always be with you.
To Milo and Pegeen my heart. I would tell Titi Jessica how beautiful you both are. How Pegeen’s name originated. How I would pray that I would have more time to see you born and spend time with each of you. I shared videos and pictures of you both, all of Milo’s videos on his rocking zebra, moving like a speed racer. And Pegeen’s dancing videos. And the videos where I would scare you both and you would laugh loudly. We would talk about how much you loved food as much as I did. I know you both will grow up to be happy and successful. Love each other like siblings.
To my home friends, my neighbors who have been part of this journey. I would tell Jessica about each one of you. Your careers, your kindness, and your never-ending support of me. Please know that I truly appreciate each of you and love you deeply. I was blessed to have friends and neighbors like you.
To my FBI family Jessica and I both know that there is no other love, support, encouragement, like this type of family. I would tell Jessica how proud I was to be part of this organization; how much I honored the uniform and the oath we both took. I wanted Jessica to tell you thank you for your calls, cards, text, prayers, gifts I knew that I was loved by each of you.
To my brothers, my rock. Jessica and I would spend hours reminiscing about each of you. The funny moments that we shared. The steak dinners that we devoured. The so many guns we all had. Jessica would say when are the zombies coming, and I would say my brothers and I are ready. Each of you has a piece of my heart. You guys made me who I am. We guided and loved each other. I told Jessica to remind you to continue our steak dinners and to talk to Jessica about all your guns, she is very interested.
To my Sloan family, my doctors, nurses, and hospital staff. Jessica and I truly felt like we were part of a bigger family. I attribute the longer time here to each of you. From day one I was treated with dignity, respect and kindness. I was so proud of each of you and wanted to share my family and career with you all. You would always tell me how I was your hero but honestly each of you were my hero. Thank you for making this journey bearable.
To my love, let me start off by saying how much I love you. You are one of a kind and I am so happy that you are part of my life. You know that I am afraid that soon my mental ability to express my thoughts will suffer and I will not be able to tell you this. My eyes are starting to fail me, and soon my speech will follow I want to tell you How much I love you. This was his last email to me.
To my husband, let me start off by saying how much I love you, how much you have given me and how much I have learned from you. I am afraid that I will not hear your voice anymore. I am afraid that I will no longer hear your thoughts, I am afraid that I will no longer see your face.
I truly believe that everything happens for a reason. Our reason started over 20 years ago. God put us together tostart this journey and end this journey together. Go in peace hubby until we meet again. Your mom is waiting for you.
Christoper Wray
Director, Federal Bureau of Investigation
Good morning. On behalf of all the men and women of the FBI, it’s an honor to be here today to remember Lou and honor his life.
For those of you who may not know, Lou joined the Bureau in 1996, first entering on duty with the New York Field Office as a file clerk before joining the ranks of the FBI Police the next year.
But it didn’t take him long to move up, first achieving a promotion to sergeant and, a few years later, to lieutenant. And while Lou was proud to have provided FBI police services across the country when duty called—for example, at the Winter Olympics in Salt Lake City or during the protests in Ferguson, Missouri—his heart was always in New York.
On the morning of 9/11, Lou was sitting at his desk at 26 Fed when he got a phone call saying a plane had hit the World Trade Center. He didn’t ask questions, he didn’t ask for details, and he never stopped to think about his own danger.
Rather, instinctively, he simply rushed to the elevator, made it down to the lobby, and ran as fast as he could toward the Twin Towers and the people he knew needed his help.
When he arrived, Lou saw smoke pouring from the building and immediately began evacuating people from the area. Most of them seemed dazed, he said later, and he knew they needed someone like him, a trained first responder, to shepherd them to safety.
But then the second plane hit, and when Lou looked up, all he could see was a fireball. He tried to take cover as debris rained down—metal, pipes, jet fuel.
He described it later as something like a war zone. And as the first tower began to tilt, and then fell, he continued to work to get as many people as he could to safety.
Some of the people in this room undoubtedly know exactly how Lou felt that clear September morning—the fear, the disbelief, and the sense of duty to protect their fellow citizens, even without knowing exactly what they needed to be protected from. But most of us can barely imagine.
The uniform Lou wore that day—torn and tattered, spattered with blood and jet fuel—now hangs in the FBI Police office at our Headquarters building in Washington.
It serves as a constant reminder of one of our nation’s darkest days and, more importantly, of the courage of first responders, who choose to rush in and towards danger when others rush out. Because, as Lou would say, that’s just the nature of those who have taken an oath to serve and protect others. And Lou took that oath to heart.
So many innocent lives were lost on 9/11—people going into work, people meeting clients or eating breakfast, and scores of first responders.
And now, with each year that passes, we lose more of the brave men and women who instinctively ran toward the danger that day, including many—too many—members of our FBI Family.
People like Lou.
I had the privilege of speaking with him a little more than a year ago. He’d been sick for several years by then, but despite all that he’d been through, I remember being struck by his spirit, by the genuine enthusiasm, love, and dedication Lou had for the FBI that I could feel, even over the phone.
I asked Lou about himself, his career, his time in the FBI. But as will come as no shock to any of you who knew him, Lou didn’t really want to talk about himself. He wanted to tell me about everyone else—the outpouring of support he and his family had received following the resurgence of his cancer, how absolutely wonderful everyone else had been.
As I never tire of telling people, it takes an incredibly special person to do this work—to put his or her life on the line for total strangers, day after day. And Lou was just that kind of incredibly special person.
But Lou was so much more than just his career.
In talking to the people who knew him well, the same words keep coming up over and over again. Kind. Respected. Trustworthy. Fair. Loving. Smart. Funny. Dedicated. Loyal.
Lou was an immigrant who’d come here from Hong Kong at a young age in search of a better life. And I think it’s safe to safe—he certainly would—that he found one.
Lou was a devoted husband whose years of friendship with a coworker named Jessica blossomed into love and the friendly banter and laughter that became the hallmark of their relationship.
I’m told they wanted to get married a year-and-a-half ago, but the pandemic threw a wrench into their plans. So rather than postpone the ceremony, they held it on the boardwalk at Coney Island on a very, very cold November day.
It was originally supposed to be a small gathering—only 20 people or so. But Lou and Jessica were so beloved that the crowd swelled, and their dear friend and coworker Kelly, who officiated the ceremony, had to use a bullhorn just so all the guests could hear.
Lou was also a loving and loyal friend, and after 25 years in the New York Field Office, he’d grown close to many of his colleagues. So close that one of his best friends, Heriberto, who’d started out as one of Lou’s employees 18 years ago, referred to him as his brother.
Those friends remained steadfast until the end, bringing Lou’s favorite foods to his hospital bed and, even after his passing, keeping vigil these past few days and nights to honor him.
And I’d be remiss not to also mention and thank the Sisters of Life, who have lent extraordinary support to our New York Field Office this week, as well as Monsignor Geno Sylva for his part in the Mass and for serving as an FBI chaplain for 13 years. Thank you for your support to this family, to this office, and to all of the men and women of the FBI.
Finally, I cannot close without mentioning that Lou was a man of deep faith who’d been baptized in adulthood.
In Isaiah, chapter six, verse eight, the Lord calls for someone to serve him. And Isaiah raises his hand and says, “Here I am. Send me.”
Here I am. Send me.
God was issuing Isaiah a call to service. A test. An act of faith.
Lou had faith. He had faith in the better life he’d find in the United States. He had faith in Jessica and her daughter, Jesslyn; in his sisters, Sandy and Mimi; in their husbands, Jason and Michael; in his niece, Pegeen, and his nephew, Milo; and in his stepmom, Lan. He had faith in the FBI. And he had faith in the work he was called to do: to serve and protect.
When Lou was called, he raised his hand, before God and before his country, and he said, “Here I am. Send me.”
At Headquarters and in every field office across the country, there’s a Wall of Honor where the names of fallen FBI employees are inscribed.
Each May we hold a ceremony to honor those whose names are on it. Last week we added two more to the wall. In time, we’ll add Lou’s name, as well.
Each one represents the kind of extraordinary people we have in the FBI—people who answer the call of duty, no matter the cost. People who always think of others before themselves.
We owe them a debt of gratitude we can never repay. But we can and will make sure that every future generation of our FBI Family reflects on Lou’s commitment, and the commitment of the other brave men and women who came before them.
Today, we say goodbye to a beloved member of the FBI Family gone too soon. But we’ll remember him, and the way he touched and changed so many lives, even those he didn’t know, for the better.
Jessica, Sandy, and Mimi, we know you’ll remember him better than anyone, as a devoted husband, brother, and family man. And we want to thank you for sharing Lou with us for so many years.
Please know that Lou, and all of you, will always be a part of our FBI Family.