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On the edge
By DONG-PHUONG NGUYEN and KATHRYN WEXLER
© St. Petersburg Times, TAMPA -- Tampa police Officer Lois Marrero has been eulogized and the people accused of killing her are dead or jailed. But for many who saw what happened, fear and anxiety linger.
DeJesus, 25, and Gutierrez, 24, broke into an apartment and took a man hostage. Later, DeJesus killed himself and Gutierrez surrendered to police. What happened shook the lives of many ordinary citizens, some of whom are still coming to terms with what they saw. Here are their stories. * * * Susan Silberman, 46, and her husband, John, 56, were at the Bank of America branch at Church Avenue and Neptune Street when they heard a voice ordering them to the floor. Mrs. Silberman: "The adrenaline rushes after it was all over were almost overwhelming. . . . I just am very nervous inside any business, banks, a convenience store. I find myself sitting and watching the door to see if anything is going to go down so I have a heads up. . . . It's a lot more difficult for me to handle everyday stress. . . . My doctor gave me some Valium to help calm things down. . . . We're kind of glad to be getting out of Tampa. We're moving to a small town where everybody knows everyone else. There's none of the anonymity you get in the city. We believe that contributes to the crime. We see trees and hills and horses grazing. There's a sense of serenity. The moment we drive back into the city, that apprehension starts up." Silberman: "I'm a Vietnam vet. If someone walks into a place with a gun, it doesn't bother you. You know what to do, you just do it. That's the way it is. If (my wife) starts regressing a little bit, I just hold her, talk to her and smile and tell her it's okay. When you've been through war, especially when there are a lot of shootings, you get numb to it. The bad things of war help you deal with the things that happen to you afterward." * * * Patricia Scaife, 44, works at Mortgage Contracting Services, next door to the Bank of America. She had just emerged from her office for her cigarette break when a man ran past her yelling that the bank was being robbed.
* * * After robbing the bank, DeJesus and Gutierrez made their way to the Crossings apartment complex, where they lived with their 2-year-old daughter and DeJesus' mother. Mark Kokojan lives above DeJesus' apartment. DeJesus asked him for the keys to his Cutlass Supreme. Kokojan handed them over, but DeJesus was shaking too badly to unlock the door.
"It's still surprising to me he would've been so desperate to start robbing places. He had a job with an air conditioning company but lost it. "I don't know what can drive someone to make such irrational decisions. . . . I didn't have much emotional reaction until the family (of the officer) came and wanted me to tell them firsthand what I saw. And then the tears started. There are . . . violent things and crazy things happening in the world today and people are just getting numb to it. "I'm following the story (on TV) pretty close. It brings back the seconds I saw the gun going off. It kind of helps me understand what happened. My roommate encouraged me to talk, just to not keep it in basically. After I starting talking about it, it's really not that difficult to talk about." * * * Justin Castleberry, a car parts courier, was about to make a pickup near the Crossings at the moment DeJesus was taking aim at Marrero. Castleberry, 19, saw him fire and watched Marrero fall.
"For three or four days, I couldn't really sleep. The past week at work, I've been exhausted. My moods are kind of unbalanced. . . . I take Prozac daily. (He was on the antidepressant before the shooting.) I don't think about (the shooting) until afternoon time, when I start thinking about it and I have to take my second dose. "I could have been in the line of fire, too. If (DeJesus) would've got p---, he could have shot me too. "I just stay away from cop cars so I don't have to see another cop get killed. Just stay away from that stuff." * * * Daniel Tatum, 35, a Lindell Volkswagen Honda car salesman, witnessed the shooting on his way to work. "I just don't feel good. It's a little bit of everything. It's a very disturbing thing to see. More than anything, it reminds me of what kind of people are lurking out there. You have to be careful. I'm glad July Fourth is over because I'm tired of hearing firecrackers. . . . "The first few nights, I'd close my eyes and see 10 seconds, reliving what happened. I'd stare at the ceiling fan and try to sleep again. It's the same thing over and over again. The first couple of days, I was in shock. It didn't really set in . . . until really late Saturday. I went into work and didn't get anything done. . . . I go (into work), I'm just not into it. I can't put my happy face on. As far as my profession, you have to be in the right frame of mind. I'm not 100 percent." * * * Tampa police Officer Gary Metzger, 53, was the first officer to run to Marrero's aid. When DeJesus stopped shooting at him, Metzger ran to the body, thinking it was a hostage lying on the asphalt to avoid the gunfire. But then he saw the department-issue boots, the uniform and the blood. He yelled for a blanket to cover Marrero's body in an act of decorum amid the gunbattle. Seventeen years ago, a spotter plane carrying a highway patrol trooper crashed 20 feet from Metzger's cruiser, killing the trooper. "It's something you don't grow accustomed to. In this case, when it hits home, it's when it hits hardest. I'll never get over it. I'll never forget. Little things will come up. A song, bagpipes. The biggest thing was the radio. (At her funeral, a dispatcher read the final radio call to Marrero over all local police frequencies). I wasn't ready for that. That kicked my feet out from under me. . . . I have to be constantly doing stuff . . . to keep my mind off of it. Occasionally, something clicks but you know you have to go on with life. You can't bring it back, you can't change the past. You learn from it and go forward and hope that it may teach someone else to maybe not have to go through what we did." * * * Tom Shindel, 39, a mechanic at Lindell who grabbed a fender cover and handed it to Officer Metzger so that he could cover Marrero's body.
* * * Sherry Williams, 46, was in her apartment at the Crossings when the commotion started.
"The door had to be fixed. The holes in the walls from the bullets had to be repaired. One of the shots went through the arm of my couch and came out the back. I didn't have insurance on my furniture. Then there was the crime squad that came through, on the carpet. They had to break the (window) glass out to get the electronics in and out. "I'm doing fine because I'm a Christian. I pray for peace from my Lord. And he'll give it to you. I haven't had a problem sleeping. It's just this tension, I can't let go of it." * * *
"I'm sleeping all right now. I'm like, really recovered from (the flu). . . . I'm just moving on." Is he depressed? "No." Has the incident changed him in any way? "No."
 © 2006 • All Rights Reserved • St. Petersburg Times
490 First Avenue South • St. Petersburg, FL 33701 • 727-893-8111 
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Headlines From the Times local news desks |
On July 6, police say, Nester DeJesus and his girlfriend, Paula Gutierrez, robbed a Bank of America branch in Tampa, then made their way to the Crossings apartments at Cleveland Street and Church Avenue. There, DeJesus shot and killed Marrero, 40, who was responding to the robbery call.
"It was something that hit me on Sunday. I couldn't hold anything down and haven't been able to eat anything since Sunday. . . . I was sick for two days. I'm going to see a doctor. After I heard about the police officer dying, I just lost it. I was in shock. I'm just under a lot of stress now. We're just right next door. Thank God for our security system (at work). I'm sorry if I seem suspicious when people come to the front door. I need to know who's here and why before I let anyone in."
Moments later, DeJesus shot Officer Marrero dead. Kokojan, 28, was standing a few feet away.
"Friday night, it kind of like, it made me all weird. The cop getting shot, it made me like, kind of angry. Kind of edgy. Kind of freaked me out. I'd never seen anyone get killed before. It was kind of traumatizing. I went home, and I was freaking out. I was kind of yelling at everybody. I bought a 12-pack and tried to calm down.
"I don't think about it much. I'll be okay. I made the mistake of looking down at her. I gave the officer the cover and looked down for just a second. Every time someone brings up the shooting, I picture her face in my mind. I see a mental picture of her laying there. I just wish I could've done more. I feel really bad for all of them."
"All of a sudden, I hear all these shots ring out, and I fall down on my knees and crawl back in and lock the door. Then I hear someone say, "Call an ambulance.' Nester runs up to my door and starts shaking it real hard. I thought he was shooting to try to get in the door.
Isaac Davis, a 20-year-old University of Tampa student, was home alone at the Crossings apartments, fighting the flu, when DeJesus and Gutierrez burst through the door. DeJesus had just shot Marrero. Three hours later, DeJesus shot himself in Davis' hallway. Davis ran out, fell and crawled down a flight of stairs. When he finally reached police, he was handcuffed and taken in for questioning because officers didn't know if he was involved.
