Richard M. Fierro, who served for 15 years in the military, said he was at Club Q in Colorado Springs with his family, and took down the man who killed five people.
Richard M. Fierro was at a table in Club Q with his wife, daughter and friends on Saturday, watching a drag show, when the sudden flash of gunfire ripped across the nightclub. His instincts from four combat deployments as an Army officer in Iraq and Afghanistan kicked in.
He charged through the chaos, tackled the gunman and beat him bloody with his own gun.
“I don’t know exactly what I did, I just went into combat mode,” Fierro, 45, who left the Army in 2013 as a major, said Monday at an interview in his house, his first since the shooting on Saturday night. “I just know I have to kill this guy before he kills us.”
On Monday, the authorities said they were holding the gunman, Anderson Lee Aldrich, 22, on suspicion of five counts of murder and five counts of bias-motivated crime causing bodily injury, Colorado’s equivalent of a hate crime, for the five people killed in the shooting. Chief Adrian Vasquez of the Colorado Springs Police Department identified the victims as Daniel Aston, Kelly Loving, Ashley Paugh, Derrick Rump and Raymond Green Vance.
The number of wounded victims was revised downward to 18 from 25. Of those people, 17 were shot and one was injured without being shot, officials said. At least 13 injured victims remained hospitalised, spokespeople for two hospital systems said. Fierro said his wife and daughter were recovering from injuries at home. Green Vance was his daughter’s longtime boyfriend.
The rampage lasted only a few minutes, and the death toll could have been much higher, officials said, if patrons of the nightclub had not stopped the gunman. Vasquez identified Fierro and another man as the people who knocked down the gunman.
“He saved a lot of lives,” Mayor John Suthers of Colorado Springs said of Fierro. The mayor said he had spoken to Fierro and was struck by his humility. “I have never encountered a person who engaged in such heroic actions and was so humble about it.”
When the shooting started, Fierro said he hit the floor, pulling a friend down with him. As bullets sprayed, he saw the gunman move through the bar toward a door leading to a patio where dozens of nightclub patrons had fled. Fierro said he raced across the room, grabbed the gunman by a handle on the back of his body armour, pulled him to the floor and jumped on top of him.
The gunman, who Fierro estimated weighed more than 135kg, sprawled onto the floor with his AR-15 style rifle landing just out of reach. Fierro said he started to go for the rifle but then saw the gunman had a pistol as well.
“I grabbed the gun out of his hand and just started hitting him in the head, over and over,” Fierro said.
As the fight continued, he said, he yelled for other club patrons to help him. A man grabbed the rifle and moved it away to safety. A drag dancer stomped on the gunman with high heels. The whole time, Fierro said, he kept pummelling the shooter’s head while the two men screamed obscenities at each other.
When police arrived a few minutes later, the gunman was no longer struggling, Fierro said, and he feared that he had killed him. The gunman in the shooting was taken into custody and remained hospitalised on Monday. Michael J. Allen, the district attorney, said formal charges would likely be filed after the gunman makes an initial court appearance. Additional charges are possible, Allen said. The gunman is being held without bond.
Court records showed that a public defender is representing the gunman. Efforts to reach that lawyer were not successful.
Families of the five fatal victims began sharing tributes to their lost loved ones.
Aston, a 28-year-old transgender man, moved to Colorado Springs two years ago and landed his first job as a bartender at Club Q. Loving, 40, visited Club Q on Saturday night during a weekend trip from Denver, a city to where she had recently moved. A friend described her as “a trans mother” — someone who taught her how to live her day-to-day life. Green Vance, 22, was visiting the club for the first time with his girlfriend.
Governor Jared Polis of Colorado ordered flags on all public buildings to be lowered to half-staff beginning on Monday morning for five days, one for each of the people killed.
Witnesses recounted scenes of pandemonium and horror as Colorado Springs, a city of some 480,000 people south of Denver, reeled from another American mass shooting, this time at a well known LGBTQ bar in a city that only in recent decades has emerged from a long history of hostility toward LGBTQ communities.
Jerecho Loveall was near the door of the nightclub, chatting with friends over the thumping hip-hop, when the gunman, clad in the body armour, walked in just before midnight and opened fire.
“By the time I turned around, the bullets were flying around my head, breaking the glass around me,” Loveall, 30, a father of three, said. “Something brought me to the ground.”
Crouched near the stage, Leia Arnold, 20, a performer, said she watched, frozen, as a bartender — a gentle man known for his efforts to provide a welcoming atmosphere for transgender patrons — was hit.
Felicia Juvera, 34, said she and her boyfriend, Gil Rodriguez, 32, were sipping beers when a series of bangs startled them. Rodriguez flipped a table, yelled “Get down,” and listened as the bangs got closer.
He got on top of Juvera, who prayed to herself as she heard screams muffled by the dance music. Rodriguez said that when the gunman was subdued by patrons, he rushed to the DJ booth to turn off the music and heard cries for help from people who were bleeding.
Loveall, who said he had been going to Club Q for more than a decade, said he heard screams as he lay face down on the ground, waiting for the shooting to end. When it did, he saw the gunman pinned to the ground by a nightclub patron he did not know.
It was not until later that he felt pain in his leg and realized he was bleeding from a bullet wound.
Officials revealed little about the gunman on Monday. He is the grandson of state Assemblyman Randy Voepel of California, according to Voepel’s legislative director, who added that Voepel, a Republican from Santee, California, in San Diego County, would not comment.
The legislative director, Adam Boman, said he had been told that Voepel has been estranged from that branch of his family and has not seen his grandson for about a decade. The gunman’s mother is one of Voepel’s two daughters.
Law enforcement have not commented on the arrest last year of a man with the same name and date of birth as the gunman who police said threatened to hurt his mother with a homemade bomb. (Police said at the time that no bomb was found.) Officials have also not said how the 2021 charges, which included felony menacing and kidnapping, were resolved.
Asked about those charges on Monday, Allen, the district attorney, did not directly address them but noted that Colorado has restrictive sealing laws that protect people when charges against them have been dismissed. Officials cautioned that it was not clear the Colorado’s “red-flag” law, which in some circumstances allows for officials to have guns surrendered by people deemed to be dangerous, could have applied to gunman in the Club Q shooting.
Fierro, the Army combat veteran who took down the gunman, was at Club Q with his wife, Jess; their daughter, Kassandra; Green Vance and family friends to watch one of Kassandra’s friends perform a drag act. It was Richard Fierro’s first time at a drag show. He said he was having fun.
“These kids want to live that way, want to have a good time, have at it,” he said in the interview Monday. “I’m happy about it because that is what I fought for, so they can do whatever the hell they want.”
The fight with the gunman left Fierro covered in blood, he said. When the police arrived, officers tackled him and put him in handcuffs. He said he was held in a police car for more than an hour and screamed and pleaded to be let go so that he could see what had happened to his family.
Fierro, who owns a local brewery, said that on combat deployments in the Army, he had been shot at and had seen roadside bombs shred trucks in his platoon. His record shows that he was awarded the Bronze Star twice. The experiences of combat still haunt him, he said, and the psychological and physical toll of the deployments were why he left the Army.
He said he never thought he would have to deal with that kind of violence at home.
“I was done with war,” he said.
This article originally appeared in The New York Times.
Written by: Dave Philipps and Daniel Brenner
Photographs by: Daniel Brenner
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