Man Who Killed Intruder Still Fights Guilt

No matter how hard he tries, Earl Swoap said, he will never be able to erase the chilling memory of Thanksgiving, 1990.

That night, clad in a bathrobe, a Winchester shotgun cradled in his arms, the retired police officer left his bedroom to investigate a crunching noise at the back door.

In a darkened hallway, Swoap saw the silhouettes of four intruders, and one of them was carrying a revolver. Instinctively, Swoap raised his shotgun and pulled back the hammer as the burglars moved slowly away from him.

“In my mind, I was saying, ‘Get out of here! Just get out of here!’ ” he said. “When they stopped and turned back toward me, I told myself, ‘Oh, my God!’ Then I fired.”

Knocking leftover turkey off a table and onto the floor, the intruders darted out the back door as Swoap gave chase, blasting out the rear window of the getaway car and flattening the right front tire.

In seconds, it was over. Yet more than a year later, Swoap still hasn’t come to terms with his decision to pull the trigger--an action that ended in death for 16-year-old Pham Minh Huynh of Santa Ana.

Though authorities long ago found that he had acted in self-defense, tears rushed down Swoap’s face this week as he related the story again.

“Should I have fired? Shouldn’t I have fired?” the 54-year-old man asked, his face buried in his hands. “If they hadn’t stopped and started to turn, I wouldn’t have fired. I wish to God that boy had not died. . . . I don’t know if I’ll ever get over that.”

So heavy is the trauma of that night, Swoap said, his sleep is constantly disturbed by the simple sounds of car doors closing. Late-night traffic on his street brings him immediately to the window, and some restless periods have found him prowling the hallways with a gun in his hand.

Even the family’s two tiny dogs, once quiet and friendly, now yap at everything that moves. Just to find some comfort, Swoap said, he and his wife, Michiko, may be forced to leave the neighborhood and have planned to place their spacious home on the market this spring.

“I just can’t totally relax,” said Swoap, who has worked in private security locally since leaving the Yakima, Wash., police force. “I’ll be sitting here doing a crossword puzzle or watching TV, and then I’ll hear a car door shut. Out comes the anxiety.”

Not only has the incident weighed on Swoap’s mind, but the anxiety was once physically debilitating. In the days immediately following the shooting, Swoap landed in the intensive-care unit of Anaheim’s Martin Luther Hospital, suffering from a recurring heart condition.

And these days, while he continually second-guesses his decision to shoot, he also is haunted by the prospect of possible retaliation.

Initially, authorities wanted to pursue murder charges against two of the intruders, 19-year-old Phouxay Vanhnarath of Costa Mesa and a 14-year-old Garden Grove boy, both of whom were wounded during the incident. Shortly after the shooting, a fourth suspect was arrested, but he was later released because there was insufficient evidence to place him at the scene.

Prosecutors attempted to use a law that allows suspects to be tried for murder whenever someone is killed during the commission of certain felonies.

Instead, Vanhnarath was sentenced to a four-year prison term on a burglary charge, and the 14-year-old was placed in the custody of juvenile authorities.

“When (Vanhnarath) gets out, I was told he would be coming after me,” Swoap said, declining to say how he received the information.

Anaheim police said Thursday that Swoap’s home was probably targeted that night for a home invasion-type robbery, a tactic common among Asian gang members. Typically, the gangs strike homes of other Asians, and the intruders probably targeted the former officer’s home because his wife is Japanese-American.

Since the shooting, Swoap said, his wife has been equally worried about the possibility of retaliation; that fear has also played a role in their plans to leave Anaheim.

“She’s not really verbal about it,” Swoap said. “She tends to keep things to herself.”

In all his 13 years on the Yakima police force, where he worked as a firearms instructor, Swoap said, he never had to fire on a suspect. Not until that Thanksgiving night.

Since the shooting, he has received nothing but support from neighbors and others who know of his involvement in the incident.

“I haven’t run into anybody who says that I did anything but the right thing,” he said. “Some ask me why I didn’t kill ‘em all.

“Legally, I know I was in the right, and morally, I question myself. But only God knows what would have happened if I didn’t shoot. Almost every night, I ask the Lord to forgive me for it.”