Fight Over Grade Led to 2 Deaths at CSUN

The fatal shooting of an associate professor by a former student Wednesday at California State University, Northridge was the result of an argument over a grade the instructor gave the student a year ago, Los Angeles police said Thursday.

The student shot computer science teacher Djamshid (Amir) Asgari twice and then fatally shot himself in the face after confronting Asgari in a stairwell between the third and fourth floors of the CSUN Engineering Building, Lt. Warren Knowles said.

Asgari, 35, of Chatsworth died several hours later at Northridge Hospital Medical Center.

The student, a 25-year-old Northridge resident, was pronounced dead at the scene. His name was not disclosed pending notification of his family in Amman, Jordan.

Next to the body were a 9-millimeter handgun, three shells, the student’s knapsack and many sheets of paper that scattered over the stairwell when Asgari dropped them as he was shot, police said.

The student was enrolled in one of Asgari’s computer science classes during the semester that ended in January, 1986, Knowles said.

Unsuccessful Appeal

The detective said he first learned from “campus sources” that Asgari had failed the student, and that the student had pleaded to no avail with Asgari to allow him to withdraw from the class rather than receive the F. Knowles said he also was told that the student had appealed the grade unsuccessfully to school administrators.

But an examination by police of the student’s transcript revealed that “something was crossed out and a ‘W’ (for withdrawal) inserted to replace whatever it was that was crossed out,” Knowles said.

It was unknown Thursday who changed the grade, when it was changed, or whether either of the men who ended up dead Wednesday night knew about the change, he said.

“It was very simply a student who was very upset about the grade and didn’t receive the response that he wanted, either from the professor or the school administration . . . obviously, it became the focal point of his life,” Knowles said.

ID Card Had Expired

The student’s CSUN identification card expired last month, Knowles said, and investigators are unsure whether he had remained enrolled at the school.

The student confronted Asgari after the professor left a computer programming class in a third-floor classroom shortly before 7 p.m. to retrieve some papers from his office on the fourth floor, Knowles said.

Police do not know where the student first encountered Asgari, but said the shooting occurred on the landing of a stairwell as Asgari was returning to the classroom, Knowles said.

Students reported hearing two shots, apparently those that killed Asgari, then a third moments later, apparently the student killing himself.

“We heard a scream. There were several shots,” said Larry Klein, 20, who was in Asgari’s class Wednesday night.

According to Alfonso F. Ratcliffe, dean of CSUN’s School of Engineering and Computer Science, the Iranian-born Asgari joined CSUN in 1984. Since 1985, he also has worked part time as a computer consultant at the Rocketdyne division of Rockwell International in Canoga Park, Ratcliffe said.

Asgari received a bachelor of science degree from the University of Illinois before attending Northwestern University, where he earned a master’s degree in 1977 and a doctorate in computer science in 1982, the dean said.

He is survived by his wife and an 11-month-old child, a university spokeswoman said.

Students said Asgari was a stern, demanding teacher.

“He didn’t make it easy . . . ,” graduate student William Church, 29, said. “But I don’t think he was unreasonable.”

Young Kwan, 21, a CSUN junior who recently took two classes from Asgari, said, concerning grades: “When he made up his mind, he wouldn’t change it for anybody.”

Briefcase Still on Desk

Son Pham, an associate professor who shared an office with Asgari, said he at first did not believe a message he received about the shooting until Thursday morning, when he saw Asgari’s briefcase sitting atop his desk, next to a chair on which his sweater and plaid jacket were draped. Asgari never left personal items in the office, Pham said.

About 1:15 p.m. Thursday, four men, including the dead professor’s brother, knocked on the office door. They laid a bouquet of flowers atop the briefcase. Mansour Asgari sank into his brother’s chair and wept.

A card on the bouquet read, “From your brother, Mansour, your cousins Mehdi and Merdad, and friend Manochehr. We always love you.”