In Newark’s Bob Carpenter Center, the sea of uniforms and tearful faces told the story as clearly as any speech: Cpl. Matthew “Ty” Snook’s life meant something far larger than the moment it was taken. Shot while working overtime at the Minquadale DMV, he still found the strength to push a coworker out of the line of fire. That instinct — to protect first, to think of others before himself — became the thread running through every memory shared.
His wife, Lauren, refused to let his death be the final word, insisting he be remembered for how he loved, mentored, and quietly lifted others. State leaders called him a guardian who could have done anything, yet chose danger and duty. Fellow troopers promised his daughter a lifetime of support, a sprawling family of “700-plus” protectors. As the somber procession wound through Delaware, it carried not just a fallen officer, but a standard of courage the community now feels bound to uphold.
