LATIMES.COM WEDNESDAY, AUGUST 7, 2019A
ute. Officers fired 18 rounds
and hit Legan multiple
times, officials said.
The county medical ex-
aminer later concluded
Legan had killed himself,
contradicting that earlier
police account.
The announcement of a
domestic terrorism probe in
the Gilroy shooting comes
days after mass shootings at
a Walmart in El Paso that
killed 22 people and one in
Dayton, Ohio, that killed
nine. The FBI also said
Tuesday that it had opened
an investigation in the Ohio
case.
Authorities have not de-
termined whether Legan
was a white nationalist but
have not ruled it out either,
Bennett said.
“We have uncovered evi-
dence that the shooter was
exploring violent ideol-
ogies,” he said. On Thurs-
day, the agent had noted
that written materials taken
from Legan’s residence in
Nevada ran the ideological
gamut.
Researchers increasingly
are seeing shooters with a
broad range of motivations
and, at times, conflicting
ideologies, which can make
it difficult to classify attacks
and pinpoint the driving
force behind them, said Bri-
an Levin, director of Cal
State San Bernardino’s Cen-
ter for the Study of Hate and
Extremism.
“We see that in the far
right, but we also see it in an-
archists,” he said. “Tradi-
tionally, what we’ve seen is
some kind of curation about
where aggression is di-
rected, but there’s a whole
cadre of extremists whose
goal is really about bringing
society to its knees. Violence
is not just a means to pro-
mote an ideology. It’s be-
come an ideology itself.”
Authorities are trying to
determine whom Legan
may have been in contact
with before the attack,
whether anyone helped co-
ordinate it and why he ulti-
mately carried it out, Ben-
nett said.FBI profilers are inter-
viewing Legan’s relatives
and associates, reviewing
his online presence and
combing through materials
seized from the Nevada resi-
dence, including several
hard drives, a computer
tower, books and a letter
from a relative, according to
a receipt of a search warrant
released by Nevada author-
ities.
Before the attack, Legan
posted a photo on Insta-
gram of a Smokey Bear signwarning about fire danger,
with a caption instructing
people to read an obscure
novel glorified by white su-
premacists: “Might Is
Right,” published under the
pseudonym Ragnar Red-
beard. The book, published
in 1890, includes discredited
principles related to social
Darwinism that have been
used to justify racism, slav-
ery and colonialism, Levin
said.
Bennett has said there
was no indication Legan tar-geted festival attendees of a
particular race. On Insta-
gram, the Gilroy resident
identified himself as of Ital-
ian and Iranian heritage.
Authorities say Legan
bought the semiautomatic
rifle used in the attack le-
gally in Nevada on July 9, less
than three weeks before the
shooting. The weapon looks
like a military-style AK-47.
With its standard clip and
stocks, it’s considered an as-
sault rifle that is banned
under California law.Legan had a 75-round
drum magazine and five 40-
round magazines as he
carried out the attack. Au-
thorities later found a Rem-
ington 870 shotgun inside
his car, Smithee said.
The shooting rampage
killed Stephen Romero, 6,
Keyla Salazar, 13, and Trevor
Irby, 25.
“To the families of
Stephen, Keyla, and Trevor:
We know that nothing we
can say or do will ever bring
back your loved ones. But we
want you to know that every-
thing that law enforcement
is doing is being done with
you in our minds,” Bennett
said.
Legan’s family wrote in a
statement that they are
“deeply shocked and horri-
fied” by their son’s actions.
They thanked the communi-
ty for their messages of sup-
port and compassion.
“To the families of
Stephen Romero, Keyla
Salazar, Trevor Irby, and to
the injured that survived
this tragedy, we cannot be-
gin to describe our despair
at his actions. We want to ex-
press our deepest and sin-
cerest apologies for the loss
and pain that he has
caused,” the statement
read.
“We have never and
would never condone the
hateful thoughts and ideol-
ogies that led to this event,
and it is impossible to recon-
cile this with the son we
thought we knew. Our son is
gone, and we will forever
have unanswered questions
as to how or why any of this
has happened.”FBIofficials at the site of the Gilroy Garlic Festival on July 29, a day after the shooting. The FBI is investigating the attack as possible domestic terrorism.
Noah BergerAssociated PressGilroy gunman’s motive unclear
WHILEGilroy residents have mourned the dead and preached unity in the face of violence, the gunman’s
family wrote in a statement that they are “deeply shocked and horrified” by their son’s actions.Kent NishimuraLos Angeles Times[Gilroy, from A1]
her onto a Walmart shop-
ping cart used for oversized
items and wheeled her out to
an ambulance.
They waited. Time felt
both stretched and con-
densed. Things needed to
move faster, Grady thought.
After an emergency crew got
Michelle into an ambulance,
his wife rode with her. He ran
— chest heaving — back to
the car, then sped toward
University Medical Center of
El Paso.
The emergency room
doctor told the pastor and
his wife and two other
daughters that a bullet had
entered Michelle’s right
thigh and cracked her pelvis.
Her middle finger had nearly
been blown off. Her in-
testines were a mess.
He heard the words the
doctor was telling him about
his daughter — the one he
called “Do-Wop” because
she was short and always
looked up to him — but
understood only one thing:
It was really bad.
They told him she needed
surgery. Probably more than
one. There were no guaran-
tees. He prayed for the
doctors to have wisdom.
He prayed for courage for
his daughter, himself and
his family — no matter the
outcome. He prayed for
the families of the other vic-
tims.
Grady, a burly man with a
deep voice, knew plenty
about death. He’d buried a
sister, two brothers and his
mother.
When he was 17, he
worked in a funeral home
and had planned to become
a mortician. But a few years
later, the funeral home
burned down, and he was
out of a job. It was 1974 and
he wasn’t entirely sure what
he would do. He’d been
preaching since he was 12
and thought maybe that
would be his path.
Then one day he was
walking home when he saw
a military recruiting station.
The U.S. Army was the first
counter he saw and the man
asked him if he’d like
to travel. Grady said he
didn’t even have a car.
Besides, he figured on beinga preacher. The recruiter
told him he could be a
chaplain.
He joined.
Grady was newly married
and he and his wife were sta-
tioned in Greece, Italy, Tur-
key and Germany. Several
spots in the United States
too. They had three daugh-
ters and a son. He counseled
veterans — people who had
seen friends die. People who
had seen marriages break
up. People in despair asking
him where God was when
their tragedy hit.
Now he was sitting in the
waiting room of a hospital,
wondering whether he was
going to lose his daughter.
“I wouldn’t try to make
excuses for God,” he said.
“God has a purpose, even in
this. And he stands with you,
and the people of God stand
with you to cover you with
love and grace and walk with
you on this journey. It says
‘walk through the valley of
the shadow of death,’ not
‘stop in the valley of the
shadow of death.’ ”
The doctors came out of
the surgery late in the after-noon Saturday and said her
vitals were stable, but she’d
need another surgery on
Sunday.
Grady is pastor of Prince
of Peace Christian Fellow-
ship — a yellow-tan building
less than 10 minutes from
where the shooting oc-
curred. With about 45 con-
gregants, he needed to make
sure the church was open.
An assistant volunteered to
preach for him.
On a normal Sunday,
his daughters — including
Michelle — would arrive a
little after 10 a.m. and start
warming up as a part of the
church’s praise and worship
team. Grady would prepare
his sermon.
By 12:30 p.m., his wife and
daughters would’ve left to
go to his house for their
weekly dinner. He would be
the last to leave. “It’s not a
megachurch, so I have to
lock up,” he said.
Grady said they’d eat
and play games. One
Michelle mastered involved
listening to loud music
through headphones and
reading lips. He can beat herat dominoes, though.
But this Sunday he was
sitting in the hospital. By
that afternoon, the doctors
told Grady and his family
that surgery had been suc-
cessful. It was unclear
whether she’d keep her fin-
ger, though.
She remained heavily se-
dated, but when her family
walked into the room, she
blinked. The family prayed
in her room.
On Monday, Grady was
at the hospital when the
breathing tube was re-
moved. Michelle was hoarse
and couldn’t speak. She was
able to motion with her
hands a little. He was grate-
ful for that small gesture.
While Grady took a short
break in a waiting room, his
phone kept ringing. His
friend, U.S. Rep. Veronica
Escobar, whose district in-
cludes much of El Paso, and
whom the black pastor had
worked with in El Paso on
civil rights, called to get an
update. So did Army bud-
dies from South Korea and
Italy.
He was touched by theoutpouring. But he wanted
to get back up to the ICU
to see his daughter. After
more than two days there,
he knew his way around
the byzantine hallways of
the hospital. Up the elevator.
Past two sets of double
doors. Beyond the table
strewn with empty pizza
boxes and a roomful of
people who were also wait-
ing. The nurses smiled or
nodded as he walked by.
Tragedy had bred famil-
iarity.
He wasn’t sure what her
first words would be when
she was finally able to talk.
He hoped for, “Hi, Mommy.
Hi, Daddy.” His eyes welled
with tears.
Grady peeked his head
through the door and
around the curtain.
Michelle was crying.
“We’ve been with her ever
since she was shot. We’ve
been here every day,” he said
outside her room. “And we
will be here to try to dry the
tears and let her know it will
all be OK.”
He took a breath and
walked in.In El Paso, a pastor prays for his daughter’s life
[Pastor,from A1]