ST. LOUIS — Nathaniel Hendren was the kind of kid most parents would be proud to talk about – until Jan. 24, 2019.
That night, he admits he played a game of Russian-roulette with another officer, Katlyn Alix, 24, and fatally shot her. He was 29 at the time.
And this week, Alix's mother, Aimee Wahlers, suffered another loss when a federal judge dismissed many of the charges she filed against Hendren in a civil lawsuit and sent the case back to the state court.
Her chances of victory in the state court don’t look good.
There, Wahlers must prove Hendren acted “in furtherance of the interest” of his employer. As part of his dismissal, U.S. Magistrate Stephen Clark determined Hendren was not acting in his “official capacity” as an officer at the time he killed Alix – so it doesn’t seem likely that a state court would conclude that his actions were furthering the city police department’s interest.
Should the state court also dismiss the city from liability in the case as I suspect it will, that leaves Wahlers, with very few options to seek restitution for her daughter’s death.
Hendren is now an indigent as he is serving a seven-year sentence in prison.
His partner that night, Officer Patrick Riordan and Sgt. Gary Foster are also named, but it’s not likely they have much to go after.
It’s the city that has the deep pockets – as if there are deep enough pockets to make any of this right.
While reporting the story this week, I thought of the sorrow I saw on Wahlers’ face during the Feb. 28 sentencing hearing in which Hendren pleaded guilty to involuntary manslaughter and was sentenced.
She and her three other adult children along with at least two dozen family and friends including Alix’s husband, Officer Anthony Meyers, sat on the right side of the courtroom.
Immediate family in the front.
Directly to their left, in the front row behind Hendren, was his mother, father and two sisters.
The Hendren family didn’t speak to Alix’s family, but they wept as the disturbing facts of the case were read aloud:
Hendren loaded his personally-owned revolver with one live round, spun the chamber and fired it twice down his hallway.
Then, for the first time publicly, the families learned that it was Alix who pointed the gun and fired it at Hendren, first.
I couldn’t help but think at that moment how it could have just as easily been Hendren’s family sitting on the victim’s side of the room had things gone any differently that night -- had Hendren taken off his bullet-resistant vest.
Had the bullet not advanced when he gave her the gun.
But the truth is, the bullet never should have been there to begin with.
He put it there.
I watched as his family listened to almost 30 minutes of victim impact statements, each one more compelling and gripping as the next. Her husband spoke. Her former partner spoke. Her sister spoke. Her brother spoke.
And of course, her mother spoke.
It seemed all of the eyes in the courtroom were glaring at Hendren that day, and it felt like, at any moment, a member of Alix’s army could have lunged at him or even a member of his family.
Nobody spoke on his behalf.
No one was proud of him.
Alix’s younger sister’s words seemed to sting the most.
Her face tightened as she emphasized the most hurtful words in her statement, unassuaged by his profession of love for her sister and the grief he said he feels for her every day. Alix had been married for only three months, but had started an affair with Hendren and was planning to move in with him, according to court documents.
Taylor Alix called Hendren “toxic,” and said that she and her family had noticed her sister had changed when she was transferred to the Second District from the city’s Sixth District in the fall.
It was a move Alix’s sister told the court the family was pleased about because she left the city’s most violent district for one of its safest – but instead, she said, it brought her a close to a danger none of them saw coming: Nathaniel Hendren.
I couldn’t imagine what it was like for Hendren’s family, especially his parents, to hear all those things about their son.
I’ve thought that plenty of times before, covering hearings where parents listen to the horrors their children commit.
I call them children because that’s what they’ll always be in their parent’s eyes, no matter how old they are.
The Hendrens’ red puffy eyes were enough of a “no comment” to me as they looked at me on their way out of the courtroom, knowing I had a notebook at the ready should they have something they wanted to say.
I’m sure what they heard that day didn’t compute with the kid they once knew.
The kid who became a Marine.
Who graduated Magna Cum Laude from Columbia College in Missouri.
Who graduated second in his police academy class.
And who wore the badge for the largest police department in his home state.
The kid who they were once no doubt proud to talk about.
The kid who – on paper – looked like someone who should have never been involved in something like this.
But he’s gone now.
And so is Katlyn Alix.
Watch for Christine Byers' column every Friday. She will go beyond the headlines of the week's top stories.
