Relatives of El Paso Walmart Shooting Victims Seek Justice, Saying They’re Down but Not Out

Paul Jamrowski, father of Jordan Anchondo and father in-law of Andre Anchondo, who both died in the El Paso Walmart mass shooting, breaks down in tears while speaking to the media outside the federal court in El Paso, Texas, on July 5, 2023. Andrés Leighton/AP Photo

EL PASO, Texas—A brother who traveled more than 1,000 miles to confront his sister’s killer. An uncle of an orphaned 4-year-old whose parents died while shielding the boy from the spray of bullets. A wife whose husband was gunned down at her side while their 9-year-old granddaughter looked on.

Nearly four years after a gunman killed 23 people at a Walmart in El Paso in an attack that targeted Hispanic shoppers, relatives of the victims are packing a courtroom near the U.S.–Mexico border this week to see Patrick Crusius punished for one of the nation’s worst mass shootings.

The sentencing phase, which began Wednesday and continues Thursday, is the first time families have had the opportunity to address Mr. Crusius face-to-face since the Aug. 3, 2019, shooting.

Mr. Crusius, 24, is expected to receive multiple life sentences in federal prison after pleading guilty to 90 murder, weapons and hate crime counts in February. He could also still receive the death penalty under separate charges in state court.

El Paso Walmart accused mass shooter Patrick Crusius, a 21-year-old male from Allen, Texas, accused of killing 22 and injuring 25, is arraigned in El Paso, Texas, on Oct. 10, 2019. Mark Lambie/Pool via Reuters

In their own words, here is what the sentencing means to some of the relatives:

Forgiveness and Failure

Family members credit Jordan Anchondo and Andre Anchondo with shielding their 2-month-old child Paul in the store during the attack, in which they were both killed.

Tito Anchondo, Andre’s brother, said he will forgive Mr. Crusius but also wants to explain to him why what he did was a failure.

Less than a half-hour before the attack, Mr. Crusius posted an online rant against a supposed “invasion” of Texas by Hispanics and warned they would take over the government and economy.

“He set out to hurt people because he said Hispanics were taking over. I just want him to know his efforts were in vain,“ Anchondo said. ”Yeah, we lost a lot of people … The ones that are still here, we’re still pushing forward.”

His nephew turned 4 in May. Mr. Tito Anchondo said the boy has begun to understand the loss of his parents and grapples with it on special occasions, such as Father’s Day, and at the sight of family portraits.

Paul Jamrowski, Jordan’s father, said it was excruciating Wednesday to sit in the same courtroom as Mr. Crusius. He said he forgives Mr. Crusius and is grateful that his grandchildren can rely on each other.

He is unsure, however, whether justice can ever really be served.

“These lives will never be brought back to life, so how is that justice?” Jamrowski said. “And who’s to say what justice is? What we do is we try to deal with it as every other family has, which is to continue to go on with your life.”

‘You Didn’t Knock Us Out’

Dean Reckard said he has nothing to say to the man who killed his younger sister, Margie Reckard.

But he still came all the way from Omaha, Nebraska, with his wife to hear what other families have to say to the gunman. The sight of Mr. Crusius being led into the courtroom Wednesday left Mr. Reckard convulsing and wiping tears from his eyes.

Hilda Reckard, Dean’s wife, said they made the trip in order to “stand up to hate.”

“I just think that us coming here is to take a stand,” she said. “You knocked us down, you didn’t knock us out.”

‘Evil Does Exist Outside Storybooks’

Among the first to address Mr. Crusius was the family of David Johnson, including his widow, her grown daughter, and a granddaughter who witnessed the attack.

Each spoke of enduring daily trauma from the death of a man remembered as a loving grandfather who liked to cook, watch NASCAR racing and spend time with his grandkids playing with Lincoln Logs.

“He was always my rock and my strength, and you took him from me,” Stephanie Melendez, Johnson’s daughter, told Mr. Crusius. “You stole my daughter’s safety and you changed my life forever … You showed her evil does exist outside of storybooks.”

Kathleen Johnson, David’s wife, who was at his side when he was killed, asked the court to deliver the maximum penalty available. She said she grapples with depression, anxiety, anger and night terrors.

“He was shot at close range by a coward, and there was his innocent blood, everywhere,” Ms. Kathleen Johnson said. “I don’t know when I’ll be the same. … The pain you have caused is indescribable. I want you to know that you cannot take away the memory of David Johnson and the joy he brought to this family.”

Waiting for the Death Penalty

Albert Hernandez, who lost sister Maribel Campos and brother-in-law Leonardo Campos in the shooting, is not interested in speaking in court for now.

He prefers to do so only after Mr. Crusius faces a trial that could result in the death penalty, which prosecutors intend to seek in the separate state proceeding.

“This is just a stepping stone for him to be brought to justice,” Mr. Hernandez said. “I’m going to wait until after trial, at the end.”

Other mass shootings in Texas since the Walmart attack have also weighed on Hernandez, including last year’s massacre at an elementary school in Uvalde that left 19 children and two teachers dead.

“It’s not about vengeance,” Mr. Hernandez said. “It has to do with punishment, and appropriate punishment.”

By Morgan Lee and Paul J. Weber