Heroic officer’s local ties recalled

“So many people kept calling the restaurant last night and going, ‘Is that really her?’ ’’ said Seana Gaherin, one of the owners of the restaurant and bar where Munley, then known by her maiden name, Kimberly Barbour, worked for roughly a year before heading south for boot camp. “We’re so proud of her.’’

Amid Irish decor and local sports memorabilia, Munley’s friends and former co-workers gathered at Dunn-Gaherin’s on Friday and again yesterday, their reminiscences about waiting tables and playing softball together mingling with solemn words and heartfelt thanks about the news from Texas: Munley, on her way to get her car fixed, caught a report about gunfire at the base on her police radio, raced to Fort Hood, and engaged the suspect in a chase and firefight that left both wounded.

“Thank God we’re not sitting around talking about what a great person she was and that she’s gone,’’ said Megan Cullinane, a Dunn-Gaherin’s colleague who exchanged letters with Munley after she left for basic training and has kept in touch with her via Facebook. “We get to say how excited and how proud we are that we know this person, who did a great thing for the world, a great thing for America.’’

Munley, 34, was raised in Carolina Beach, N.C., and worked as a police officer in nearby Wrightsville Beach from 2000 to 2002. In 2005, she enlisted in the Army, later joining the civilian police force at Fort Hood after her military service, according to the New York Daily News.

In between, she spent time in the Boston area, following a boyfriend north. The relationship proved temporary, but she made friends, found work, and stayed in the area for more than a year, friends said.

In early 2004, she answered an ad to waitress at Dunn-Gaherin’s and worked there for about a year, said Gaherin and Laura Kenny, a manager. Her co-workers knew it was just a short-term stop for a woman who talked about joining the Army and making a career in law enforcement, but Munley left a lasting impression.

With her Southern inflection standing out amid the Boston accents and Irish brogues at the neighborhood pub, Munley made a name for herself as a cheerful, hard-working waitress - and as a spirited and capable shortstop on the Dunn-Gaherin’s team in a restaurant softball league. She worked three night shifts and three day shifts a week and hung out there on days off, befriending a broad cross-section of regulars. On Halloween, she came in as “G.I. Jane,’’ clad in fatigues.

“She could talk to or hang out with anybody and be friends with them,’’ said Kenny, who called her a “tough little lady.’’

“She was a lot of fun,’’ she added. “She was very energetic.’’

“A really social kid, a really nice person,’’ said Gaherin, who could not provide specific dates for Munley’s employment; the restaurant’s old payroll records are being stored offsite while Dunn-Gaherin’s completes ongoing renovations.

But sitting near the rectangular bar yesterday, Munley’s friends could picture her on the very first night she came in, when Gaherin asked her to observe the other waitresses and get a feel for the place. She sat at the corner and nursed a Magic Hat #9, a Vermont ale that would become her local favorite.

Kenny beckoned them over to a laptop off the bar, where she called up the “I love Dunn Gaherins’’ Facebook page. On Jan. 11, Munley had posted a message on their site’s wall: “God, I miss your lasagna and magic #9!!! Hope everyone is doing well and staying warm up there! Hope to visit soon!’’

In June, she posted again. “I’d like a #9 please . . . no, really,’’ she wrote. “PLEASE??!! :) Miss you all!’’ Kenny imagined Munley coming back for that visit, after she recuperates. “We’d love to throw her a big party,’’ she said, with plenty of Magic Hat.

“A hero’s welcome,’’ Cullinane said.

“We should call the brewery,’’ Gaherin said, thinking about Munley recovering in Texas, “and get the beer sent down to the hospital.’’