‘Everyone is vulnerable.’ Fresno’s senseless, random killings date back decades

Mike Reynolds has written a letter to a woman he’s never met, about a boy he’ll never know.

The letter is addressed to the mother of Nick Kauls, a 17-year-old who was shot and killed while skateboarding in Fig Garden last month during a series of attempted robberies. “But I don’t know if I’ll ever give it to her,” Reynolds said.

Kauls’ death reminds him of his daughter, Kimber.

Kimber Reynolds was 18 when she was fatally shot as she fought for her purse during a robbery attempt outside a restaurant in the Tower District in 1992.

Both were teens taken by random acts of violence, in Fresno neighborhoods that had been considered safe from the gunfire that other parts of the city seemed to have gotten used to. Then and now, the community held vigils and rallied for justice for the innocent victims. People put themselves, or their children, in their shoes.

“The parallels, 26 years later...” Reynolds said. “Believe me, it brought back memories to us very quickly. This is something that you don’t get over. It’s like asking someone with a missing leg if they’ve gotten over it. No, but you somehow adapt.”

Fresno Police Chief Jerry Dyer called Kimber’s death “a turning point” for the city. The murder sparked the creation of the Three Strikes law, turning Reynolds, now a 74-year-old retired photographer, into an advocate and lobbyist.

With the news of Kauls’ death, Kimber’s name came to mind for Dyer, too. But there are other names he rattles off: Janessa, Rashad, Day Day.

“I don’t usually remember homicide victims’ names because there’s so many, but these names are at the top of my head,” he said. “They’re always there.”

Unintended victims

Dyer is talking about what the police department calls “unintended victims” – innocent people injured or killed by errant bullets or suspects they have no connection to. In Fresno, that most often means being shot by a gang member. Of last year’s 56 murders in the city, 30 involved a gang member.

In 2015, Fresno City College baseball star Deondre “Day Day” Howard was gunned down, mistaken by a gang member for someone else.

In 2016, Rashad Halford Jr., known throughout the city as “baby Rashad,” died in front of his parents after being shot by a gang member whose target was his father. He was 20 months old.

In 2017, Roberto Ramos — “a dedicated family man” — was shot and killed outside his home by a suspect police said he had no direct ties to.

Earlier this year, Zurich Chatman was mistakenly identified by a gang member, and was shot and killed outside of the Pilgrim Church of God in Christ, where he was a member.

“There used to be a belief that if you didn’t live in certain neighborhoods or frequent certain areas, you would not be struck by gunfire. But, over the years that has changed,” Dyer said. “Gang members don’t care if it’s daylight or darkness. They don’t care if they’re in their neighborhood or an affluent area. If they come across another gang member, anyone and everyone is vulnerable.”

‘I won’t stop grieving until I stop breathing’

There are some cases that “shock the conscience” of a community, Dyer said.

One of those cases was the death of Janessa Ramirez, a 9-year-old who was killed by a stray bullet in a gang shooting outside of a laundromat in front of her mother in 2015.

Dyer chokes up as he pulls a program from Janessa’s funeral out of his desk drawer. She has an ear-to-ear smile and chubby cheeks.

“When an innocent person, especially a child, is killed, the entire community wants justice. Quickly,” he said. “There’s an uprising and an outcry for us to do more policing and not just solve that case, but prevent further violence in the city.”

Sitting in her one-bedroom apartment that she moved into alone after Janessa’s death, Stacey Gonzales, 40, winced talking about people’s casual use of the word “random” to describe these senseless killings.

“What happened to my daughter was random,” she said. “You don’t even know what that term means.”

Gonzales has coped in different ways in the three years since her daughter’s death. She goes to therapy twice a week. She took a leave of absence from work. She prays. She has told Janessa’s killer that she forgives him.

She tried to find solace in support groups like Mothers Against Gang Violence. But after a few meetings, she never returned. She wants to start her own support group for survivors of random acts of violence.

“A lot of those mothers had children who were gang members. I’m not like them,” she said. “Nobody has my story.”

Gonzales only broke down once talking about Janessa on Tuesday. Looking up at a collage of selfies the two took together over the years, she sounds frustrated talking about reoccurring dreams where she can hear her daughter, but she can’t see her.

“I know it’s her voice, and her mannerisms, but she will not let me see her face,” she said through tears. “I won’t stop grieving until I stop breathing. I’m going to be going through this my whole life.”

‘I remember the day like the back of my hand’

Then there are the innocent victims who live through shootings.

People like Brianna Ramirez, who has been living with vision in only one eye since 2015, when she was shot in the face at 16 years old, caught in gang crossfire near her Parlier home. She was riding in the passenger seat of her mother’s car.

Six-year-old Andrew Mitchell was playing with a new toy, the day after Christmas 2002, when he was shot outside of a relative’s home in a gang-related drive-by shooting. He’s been in a wheelchair ever since.

“I remember the day like the back of my hand. I can never forget it,” said Mitchell, now 21. “I remember seeing the muzzle flashes and then turning and running. I don’t remember what happened directly after that because I had got hit by a bullet and passed out, but I remember waking to my mom holding my hand.”

Mitchell, who lives around the corner from where he was shot in southwest Fresno, helps his mom with her catering company and his dad with his sprinkler business, and plays basketball and writes songs in his free time. He says life in a wheelchair is almost all he’s ever known, but he knows the shooting changed how he operates day to day.

“I’m very aware of my surroundings. I look at every car at least twice before it passes by me,” he said. “If I’m in the local corner store, I’m looking at the cameras… but now that I’m older, it’s a sense of normalcy. We hear gunshots every night or every other. The police helicopter hovering over my house... I just wish my neighborhood was better.”

He added, “but I love my neighborhood.”

Mitchell said he considers himself one of the lucky ones, noting Kauls’ death.

“I did wonder ‘Why me?’ at first. Then eventually, I got older and I realized that even if it wasn’t me it would have been someone else, and they might not have made it,” he said.

Lisa Kauls, Nick’s mother, isn’t ready to talk about her son’s death. Reynolds wanted to relay a message to her.

“If you cry 100 times a day, one day after the next, there will come a day when that will turn into 99. And then 98,” he said. “It just takes time.”

This story was originally published July 27, 2018 at 9:50 AM.