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Forgiving, not forgetting


Pat Shannahan/The Arizona Republic
Phramaha Phaisit Dhammaraso pushes Goodyear the dog on a cart while doing daily chores on temple grounds. He is accompanied by Phramaha Srinin Srisaen.

By Brent Whiting
The Arizona Republic
Aug. 12, 2001 12:00:00

The massacre took place 10 years ago in a circle of saffron and blood.

Nine people, including six Buddhist monks in their orange-yellow robes, lying on the floor like the spokes of a wheel, were shot to death.

Some died with their hands clasped in final prayer.

The shocking slaughter of defenseless people in August 1991 by two Valley teenagers was the worst mass murder in Arizona since the Indian wars before statehood in 1912.

But time, aided perhaps by the power of Buddhist philosophy, has done its healing work in the West Valley community of Wat Promkunaram.

Just a few feet from where the bodies of the Thai monks once lay, monks in orange-yellow robes recently sat down to computer keyboards for a class on surfing the Internet.

The monks say that they won't forget what happened 10 years ago, but that their Buddhist philosophy dissuades them from worldly emotions such as revenge, anger or hatred for the killers.

Related multimedia
• Click here to view photos from the 1991 tragedy
• Click here to view photos from the 1991 tragedy
• View a slideshow of photos from the temple as it is today
1991 murder scene video from 12 News
Garcia, Doody arrest video from 12 News


Wichit Vetan, a monk, said people still ask him about the massacre. Vetan said he replies that today's good deeds are more important than yesterday's evils.

"We want to circulate good things to all people," Vetan said. "We like them to be happy and peaceful."

Barbra Heller, a temple member, said the focus at Wat Promkunaram is on today rather than the terrible deeds that took place 10 years ago.

"In Buddhism, they teach you not to dwell," Heller said. "What's happened has happened. You let it go. You can't change it. Tomorrow's not here. You live in the moment."

Paitoon Fongkaeo, consul for the Royal Thai Consulate General in Los Angeles, said the murders still stir memories in Thailand and the Thai community in the United States.

Still, he said, "I think, in the Buddhist tradition, that a sense of forgiveness prevails in this case."

In 1991, the massacre sparked front-page news in Thailand and triggered an international investigation when authorities scrambled not only for the killers but also for a motive.

Questions swirled around the murders of the unresisting innocents. Was it a hate crime? The deed of a psychotic murderer? A robbery gone awry?

These were some of the theories that were racing around the Valley.

In their haste, Valley law enforcement officials initially compounded the tragedy by botching the investigation. They jailed innocent people, used questionable methods of interrogation and ultimately provoked multimillion-dollar lawsuits.

Now, a decade later, the number of supporters at the temple, Wat Promkunaram, has more than doubled to 500, and the compound west of Luke Air Force Base has expanded to handle the growth.

Sheriff Joe Arpaio, who was swept into office during the fallout over the bungled probe, is in his third four-year term.

Two students from an Avondale high school, Johnathan Doody, a Thai native whose brother frequented the temple, and friend Alessandro "Alex" Garcia eventually were convicted, and each was sentenced to nearly 300 years in prison.

Their motive for killing nine innocent people: small-time robbery. The reward: cameras, electronic equipment and $2,790 in cash.

What happened?

The L-shaped, walled temple sits in the far West Valley amid homes and cotton fields. F-16 fighter jets from Luke roar overhead.

The slaughter was discovered when a worker showed up early to prepare a meal for the monks. The bodies were found in a sea of blood on a carpeted floor near the living quarters.

The slain monks were Pairuch Kanthong, 36, the temple abbot; Somsak Sopha, 46; Sian Ginggaeo, 35; Surichai Anuttaro, 33; Chalerm Chantapim, 31; and Boonchuay Chaiyarach, 37.

Also gunned down were Foi Sripanprasert, 75, a temple nun; her grandson, Matthew Lee Miller, 17, a monk-in-training; and Chirasak Chirapong, 21, a temple helper.

Evidence shows that Doody, then 17, and Garcia, then 16, armed with a 20-gauge pump shotgun and .22-caliber rifle and wearing military clothing and gear, showed up at the temple on a Friday night, Aug. 9, 1991, at about midnight.

Both were enrolled in the Air Force ROTC program at Agua Fria High School and shared an interest in military operations. At a base store at Luke, they purchased clothing and gear used in the robbery, including snow boots, camouflage hats, scarves for their faces, military belts, goggles and battle harnesses on which to carry knives and flashlights.

They also constructed a homemade silencer for the rifle, but it failed when they were testing it in the White Tank Mountains.

Later, Doody's lawyer would attempt to portray the massacre as a "war game" that went horribly awry.

However, a prosecutor described Doody as a "stone-cold killer," who had plotted with Garcia for two months to rob the temple and eliminate the witnesses.

Doody's younger brother, David, a temple novice, unknowingly may have fueled the scheme by telling Doody and Garcia that there was gold at the temple and that some of the monks kept money and guns in their rooms, court records show.

At Doody's trial, Garcia testified that he and Doody "talked about it every day," discussing how to carry out the robbery.

"At first, it was just robbery. Then eventually, it turned into basically, 'Let's go ahead and shoot them,' " Garcia told jurors.

Garcia, who pleaded guilty and testified against Doody at Doody's trial, told jurors that after ransacking the temple, the two arranged the unresisting victims on the floor. Then, he said, he and Doody exchanged glances. Then they started to fire.

Garcia testified that he wanted to leave without harming anybody, but Doody told him, "No witnesses."

Experts said all nine victims died of .22-caliber wounds to the back and side of the head. Some also suffered shotgun wounds.

Doody, who did not take the stand, was convicted largely on Garcia's testimony and on Doody's admission to investigators that he was at the temple during the massacre.

Garcia struck a deal with prosecutors that allowed him to escape the death penalty in return for his testimony against Doody.

Doody avoided a death sentence after a judge said he couldn't conclude beyond a reasonable doubt whether it was Doody or Garcia who fired the .22-caliber rifle that killed the nine. The judge said another factor was the plea bargain struck with Garcia that spared him from death.

"It is only these rather unique set of circumstances . . . that saves this defendant (Doody) from a death sentence," the judge said in his ruling.

Doody is incarcerated in a prison at Florence. Garcia was placed in an out-of-state prison that the Arizona Department of Corrections won't identify.

Both refused requests from The Arizona Republic for interviews.

Botched investigation

Within a week of the slayings, a task force representing several law enforcement agencies joined with the Maricopa County Sheriff's Office in investigating the case.

The initial result "was not a shining moment" for law enforcement, Maricopa County Attorney Rick Romley said recently.

An apparent break in the case came when five Tucson residents were taken into custody in September 1991, four of them charged with the murders after confessing to them.

But the break was a bust. The four, ages 19 to 28, recanted their confessions and claimed they'd been coerced by sheriff's deputies.

Some said they were weary and confused after being denied food, sleep and phone calls. They confessed, they said, because they were tired.

Some also later testified that, before their interrogations, they were placed in a room containing charts and photographs pertaining to the murder. This, they said, gave them the information they dutifully fed back to questioners.

Eventually, they won a lawsuit for false arrest.

None of the four could be reached for comment. M.E. "Buddy" Rake, a Phoenix lawyer for Leo Valdez Bruce, one of the four, said Bruce took part of his $1.1 million share from the lawsuit settlement and earned an associate's degree as an X-ray technician.

Authorities eventually concluded that then-Sheriff Tom Agnos and high-ranking deputies bowed to political pressure and conducted a slipshod investigation.

They said the case was mismanaged from the beginning by Agnos and others, some of whom chided and berated deputies who doubted the guilt of the Tucson suspects.

In addition, Agnos and others wasted untold dollars and man-hours in a vain attempt to link the Tucson men to the massacre, sheriff's officials said in 1993 following an internal investigation of the temple case.

"If there's anything good that came out of it, it made us re-evaluate the way we do things," Romley said earlier this month. "And we changed things dramatically."

Prosecutors now impose higher standards on Valley law enforcement agencies concerning how investigations are conducted and confessions obtained, Romley said.

Arpaio, who inherited the temple case after taking office in January 1993, said earlier this month, "My detectives don't rely solely on confessions. I insist upon other corroborating evidence."

Looking back

Romley, the county attorney, eventually ordered in November 1991 that charges against the Tucson suspects, who had been incarcerated for two months, be dropped. He said last week that it was the right call but an agonizing one.

"What if I was wrong?" Romley said. "It was difficult. It was my toughest decision."

In November 1993, Arpaio made a public apology to the four Tucson men charged, then cleared, in the massacre.

"I thought it was the right thing to do," Arpaio said last week.

Agnos, who was voted out as sheriff in a 1992 primary election in the wake of the debacle, has maintained a low public profile since then. Inquiries to him are directed through his wife, Shirley, the president of Arizona Town Hall.

Tom Agnos said last week that the massacre was a terrible thing, but that it's time for Arizona to let go and move forward.

At the temple, an outdoor memorial honors the nine victims. The hexagonal structure has brightly colored tiles and sits atop a lily pad pond.

Temple Abbot Winai Booncham said those who died are remembered each year. There are memorial services in August, including ones scheduled for Aug. 18-19. More than 70 monks from across the United States will join with other people attending the services.

Prukong Garland, the temple treasurer said, "We forgive, but we never forget."

Vetan, the monk, said Buddhists believe the spirit will leave the body when somebody dies in danger. Some believe they have been visited in dreams by the slain monks, he said.

"We cannot see them anymore," Vetan said, "but I think they can still see us."

Republic reporter Elizabeth Neuse contributed to this article. Reach the reporter at brent.whiting@arizonarepublic.com or (602) 444-6925.




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