School shooter's last days -- no warning

There has been much controversy about the life and home life of Nikolas Cruz, the 19 year old former student of the Stoneman Douglas High School in Parkland, Florida who is in jail, accused of 17 counts of murder and more.

Nik, as he is called, and his younger brother were adopted at a young age by the Cruz family.  Mr. Cruz died when Nik was about 6.   Since then, Mrs. Cruz tried to raise them on her own, but Nik presented problems -- fighting, shooting his gun in the backyard and killing small animals.   Police records show that they were called to the Cruz home some 39 times during those approximately 10 years.

None ever resulted in Nik being charged with crimes nor taken into custody, although he supposedly saw a counselor once.  He had not been on medications.   However, kids at the school say that he often talked about his fascination with guns and shooting;  he would describe with some glee killing lizards, mice, and other small animals -- not as a hunter would but out of fascination.  He once shared a fantasy that he would be a school shooter.

Nik was also in trouble at school a lot, mostly for fighting.   And he was finally expelled in the prior school year.   Nevertheless, when the reality of  the mass shooting began to sink in, many people now say that they had little doubt that it must be Nik.   And then began an accumulation of "warning signs" that people saw in retrospect -- or at least saw more ominously and wished they had reported it before.

A major loss in Nik's life occurred last November, just about three months prior to the shooting.   His adoptive mother died, leaving him as a 19 year old without her stabilizing influence.    He had been staying with a friend of his mother's in a temporary status.

Then the son of James and Kimberly Snead, who knew Nik from ROTC at school, asked his parents if Nik could move in with them.    Nik had spent the night prior to a group hunting trip with the Sneads, and they remembered him as polite and following all the rules.    And the 49 year old Sneads had raised three sons and felt up to taking on another.   So they agreed.

James Snead, a gun owner himself,  has strict rules about gun storage;  and he immediately required Nik to abide by the same.   In fact, they stopped on the way as they were moving in Nik's belongings for him to buy his own gun safe.   He had to keep his guns and ammunition locked.   Mr. Snead thought he had the only key to the safe;   but events proved that Nik must have had a duplicate.

The Sneads are puzzled by the way events unfolded.   They did not see any warning signs.   Nik was well-mannered and respectful, following house rules, took Snead's advice and was taking adult ed courses and got a job working at a Dollar Store.   He sometimes seemed depressed;  and, when asked, would say he was thinking about his mother.

But there was nothing alarming or threatening that they noticed.   In fact, two weeks before the shooting, Nik told James Snead that "this is the best he's ever felt in his life."

The Snead's say that it definitely was not them who called in the anonymous tip about Nik's suspicious activities and social media writings in January, which the FBI now admits it did not follow up on.

The night before the shooting, he ate dinner, then watched television with the family.   He told them he wouldn't be going to school the next day because it was Valentine's Day.   Mrs. Snead, a nurse who works night shifts, saw him briefly the next morning and said he seemed normal.   Nik told the Snead son that he was going to the movies that day.

The next thing the Snead's knew was the shooting at the school.   When the police put out a description of the suspect, they recognized it as probably Nik.

The take-away from this interview with the family Nik Cruz lived with for the last months before the shooting is that they saw no red flags, had no clue, and so far have not been able to add any understanding of what triggered the attack.

This is why it is so difficult to predict who will, and who is unlikely to, become a violent danger to others -- or themselves;   suicide is about as difficult to predict.  In the aftermath, there's always the second-guessing by people who suddenly  think that perhaps they could have made a difference.

There is very little we can be certain enough about human behavior to deprive an individual of his freedom because of what he "might" do in the future.   There's the risk of not doing enough . . . but also the risk of doing too much.   If everyone who has ever had a suicidal impulse, or a homicidal impulse, were to be incarcerated -- there's be no one left to be the guards.

It's called judgment.   And even that is very difficult.   Much of it is a roll of the dice.

Ralph
[based on reporting by Zolan Kanno-Youngs at the Wall Street Journal]