The funeral ceremony commemorating the line-of-duty death of New York police officer Jason Rivera drew thousands of uniformed officers from across the country to St. Patrick's Cathedral in Manhattan on Friday.

Just over a year out of the police academy, Rivera, 22, and his 27-year-old partner Wilbert Mora, whose funeral is next week, were gunned down in a Harlem apartment last weekend while responding to a domestic disturbance call. The killer, Lashawn McNeil, had a violent criminal record prior to the shooting, including a 2003 felony narcotics conviction and multiple prior arrests for unlawful possession of a weapon, assaulting a police officer, and a felony drug count.

While the religious service was conducted inside the church and broadcasted to the public over speaker, the massive brigade of cops stood outside in the falling snow and freezing weather, paying no mind to the winter storm warning. Badges on their shoulders read "Newark," "Philadelphia,", "Darien," "Baltimore," and the names of many other cities. There was overwhelming solidarity and camaraderie among them, some strangers, many already or soon-to-be friends. Bundled up in the bitter cold, officers exchanged handshakes, embraces, and laughs as they waited to say farewell to someone that easily could have been them had they been assigned to Harlem last Friday.

Police officers from a different city head to the meeting area before the ceremony.

A young NYPD officer told National Review that Rivera’s death is uniquely harrowing for him because he walked in Rivera's shoes only a few years ago.

"I joined the police force at 22 with the same mentality. I wanted to improve my community and change the perception of the police," he said.

He then turned the conversation toward what he sees as policy failures that are making life more dangerous for cops and citizens. While Rivera's death is sure to be disturbing to any prospective police applicants, he said in a whisper, "political things" are really deterring recruits.

"Unfortunately, the mayor has a lot of barriers to break down. Policies," he said. He went on to cite Manhattan district attorney Alvin Bragg's recent memo to staff that called for the decriminalization/non-prosecution of several offenses, including trespassing, resisting arrest, interfering with an arrest, and prostitution.

That policy "doesn't make things easier for cops," the officer said. "There's a push to get people out of jail while forgetting that there's victims behind these crimes."

Police officers head home after Riveras’ funeral.

A professed socialist and police abolitionist, Harlem city council member Kristin Richardson Jordan found herself last week in the awkward position of addressing the tragedy that befell her neighborhood without compromising her anti-police position.

"My deepest condolences to the families of Officer [Jason] Rivera, Officer [Wilbert] Mora and Lashawn McNeil," she wrote on Twitter Tuesday, lumping in the presumed gunman with the fallen officers.

"Everyone knows she hates police. She'd have no police in that neighborhood if she could," the officer said.

While many of the cops who spoke to National Review were content with their decisions to join the force, they were pessimistic about the future of policing.

"I'd do this again in a heartbeat," said a retired officer of 20 years who came to pay his respects.

But when asked whether he would encourage his son to pursue his path, he shook his head and replied, "Not today."

A retired cop echoed the same sentiment, joking, "If my son wants to become a cop, I'll break his legs." He blamed the policymakers in New York City, and the people who keep electing them, for creating counterproductive law that is hostile to policing.

"It's always dangerous being a cop but the powers-that-be make it more dangerous," he said.

Referencing the spike in subway crime, he suggested that, while well intentioned, the reforms pitched by Mayor Eric Adams to send "mental health professionals" down onto the platforms to deal with distressed persons is putting a band aid of political correctness on the issue.

"Who do you think the social worker's going to call?" he said.

Noting the vitriolic political statements demonizing the police in the wake of George Floyd's murder, the officer, who is black, said, "That rhetoric has been going on for a long time. But if you try to denounce it you get called a racist, bigot, etc."

NYPD officer holds a framed photo of slain 22-year-old cop Jason Rivera.

Another retired cop, who now works in the district attorney's office, angrily rejected such rhetoric. "It's so absurd the narrative that's being promulgated, that police are a white oppressive organization."

"Look at this group," he said, pointing to the diverse crowd of officers, "This is the most integrated thing you'll ever see. This is New York."

He also said bail laws in the city desperately need reform, as they're currently letting repeat offenders back onto the streets.

"Dangerousness of offender is not considered by the court when determining bail as a matter of law. Offenders can offend as many times as they like. It's insane," he said. "A minority of criminals are committing the majority of crimes but they're not allowing us to hold them."

In her eulogy, Rivera's widow Dominique Luzuriaga spoke through tears, "The system continues to fail us. We are not safe anymore. Not even the members of the service."

"I knew you were tired of these laws," she said as if speaking to her husband, "especially the ones from the new DA. I hope he's watching you speak through me right now." Her words were met with a standing ovation from the pews and applause from the crowd of cops outside.

Police Benevolent Association President Patrick Lynch delivered a eulogy for Rivera, "He's not a hero because of the way he died but because of the way he lived. He's not a hero because of the shield he had in his pocket but because of shield he had in his soul."

"My brother had a lot of fears. He was afraid of heights, he was afraid of snakes, he was afraid of dogs. My brother was afraid of dogs! But he was not afraid to die wearing that uniform," Rivera's brother Jeffrey said, choking up as he paid his tribute to "Tata," Jason's childhood nickname.

The procession concluded with a police salute, the playing of "God Bless America," "America the Beautiful," as well as "Taps," and a formal police escort for the departing casket.

Thousands of officers stood silent and still for what seemed like an hour, as if to confirm the last sentence of Luzuriaga's eulogy, "We'll take the watch from here."