I was sent to San Angelo, Texas on March 26th 2025 to work with a team where the manager was leaving due to health issues. I got there and found some issues... poor circuit design, lack of supplies, etc. I handled them, and even got a bonus for the work I did. I was scheduled to be there for 6-weeks, and I was fine with it. I was away from the house, working on what for me was an easy job, and I met some great people out there.
On Saturday, April 6 I was awoken by a phone call from my first wife Terryann... my grandson Colby Sheffler was shot and killed early that morning.
From what we could piece together, they went to a night clup and when they left, a group of people surrounded the car wanting the firearms that Colby had, they sprayed bear-pepper-spray in through the window, and when Colby attempted to drive off, they fired several shots killing him and injuring another person in the car.
He was in the prime of life... ready to embark on travel with the military, starting what would have been a long career. But tragically, it was all cut short because some less-than-human greedy murderers decided that his life was not worth much.
Murderers !
The effects of this really hit Josh hard... he has been acting out... and I'm afraid that if he doesn't seek help and make some changes, he will end up with a similar fate.
The following is from an email I sent to a friend trying to explain the events of late July.
Pull up your favorite chair and sit down as I have a story to tell.
On Tuesday, Rebecca asked if her son Josh could come for a visit... the second one of the two children from her first husband. (Colby was shot to death in April)
Reluctantly I said yes... but warned that I would not take any of his crap, and if he was ignorant, I would tell him to go home, and if needed call the police to have him trespassed. (Foreboding Eh?)
He came, was a but loud, and a bit rude... but he was in her room... I told him to keep it down a bit. Mostly it went "Ok" at best.
The next morning they were still up and too loud for 05:00 as far as I'm concerned. I asked if he could tone it down... he said something to the effect of "Nigga I ain't that fucking loud."
I told him that I was in no way taking that tone of voice... and after him continuing to talk to me that way, he had to go home. I thought he had left, but they decided that they would go to the river instead.
I figured... ok... they are not here... let them go blow off steam, then he can go home because he is not coming back in here. Somewhere between when I woke up and when I told him to go home, he was standing on the front porch in a VERY LOUD Voice... I guess this was 9:00 am... saying stuff like, "I'm not gonna take this fucking shit from that nigga... ".
You can imagine that I was NOT going to tolerate that... especially since I was in a conference call on a huge project for my company... and if it goes well... there would be a lot more projects. However, with this nonsense in the background... we could loose the entire project... I'm the lead engineer. (No pressure there.)
I told him to shut the hell up. He tells me that he is pissed because "they" told him he has to move his car... "they" are some workers contracted to fix the busted sidewalk in front of my house. Really? All this over moving a car?
I told him... that's no big deal... park in the driveway behind my garage. He starts going off how he ain't gonna let some "nigga" steal his gun. (Which I had told him not to bring.) And I really do not appreciate his language and racism.
I could not get a word in... then my lizard brain kicked in... grabbed his face, spun him around and told him to shut the fuck up. (Didn't work so well.)
He starts saying, "You grabbed my throat, that's an attack on my life... I know Brazilian Marshal arts and I can kick your ass! I could call the police on you!"
I said, "Ok, take the first shot, but be careful where you do it because that's where Pawpaw is gonna knock you out."
More yelliing...
I put my nose against his and walked him into a wall... I said, "I don't see your punk ass taking a swing... so I suggest strongly you get the fuck off my property while you can still walk. Go the hell home and learn some damned respect."
Anyway, he left... and before he did... I said, "If you do come back... the police will be called. I will not take this kind of abuse."
He left... so I presumed he went home... nope.
I got a call from my his grandmother, Terryann... afterward, I called Rebecca... she replied, "What's up?"
Your grandmother said, "Josh is in the car, not with you, and can't get to you. His phone doesn't work so I guess he borrowed one."
She replied, "Oh it's all cool... we are swimming."
Ok fine... he must have found her yeah? (Nope...)
He pulled up alone at my house... Marshall didn't want to miss that opportunity... police were instantly called before I even walked outside. I wasn't going to call unless he tried to come in the house... but Marshall has a way of pushing himself into other people's affairs even if they don't want him to... it's areal issue.
Well... what SHOULD have happened is that they would have told him that I just filed trespass paperwork... that he had to leave now, and that if he came back, he would go to jail.
All he had to do was not say anything, take the copy of the paperwork, and go home... nothing on his record, no other action taken.
Yeah, not what happened. (Right? Because... let's do the stupid thing.)
So he jumps in the car and drives off like it its a Formula 1 race.
It's not as fast as radio however... so the police do a "Traffic Stop" while I talk to the officer about the trespass document. What occurred then?
- Unregistered Weapon
- Illegal Transport of a firearm across state lines (LA to TX)
- Illegal possession of Tobacco (he's 19, you need to be 21)
- No registration
- No insurance
- No plates on the car.
So... yeah... off to JAIL.
That's not enough... he decides to get into an altercation with the officer... R. Perez... yeah... I know the cops here too well... "Hey, how is your daughter... doing better?"... uggg.
Anyway, he says the magic words... "Fuck this place I'm going to kill myself!"
Brilliant... so suicide watch it is... let's strip him buck naked so he can't do anything, throw him in a padded cell with cameras... and of course, no more phone calls, visits, etc.
Discussions go in between the rest of the (broke ass family) and me... we need to get the car out of impound because it's $25 a day.
Do they have the $485 to do that?
Nope.
Gosh... who does?
Well I do of course... I keep $500 in my work backpack for a case of the unseen "Oh Shit" when I am out in the world traveling.
So that money is gone... and I drive the car home.
The night before Becky called... while I was picking her up from San Marcos when she finally called me at 10:00 PM... saying she doesn't know where Josh is... and I say, "He's not coming."
She was like, "Well it's not like he would have left me there..."
Yes dear... he would and did. His phone was taken the LAST TIME he was thrown in jail when his brother was killed. Has not got it back yet because it's evidence.
Did he get a cheap "burner" phone just so he could make calls?
Of course not... he had gotten $10K in insurance money and bought a $6000 car, $200 cologne, $700 video game system... etc, etc...
Did paying me back for the $600 bail I spent last time come to mind? Hell no.
Goddammit.
So I get her home and the calls start...
Why am I such an asshole to call the police on such a sweet boy? You don't understand he needs love. (Terryann - grandmother)
No... actually... he needs a foot up his ass, and to learn there are consequences.
He is getting that lesson now...
Then Rich with similar observations... then Terryann... after 20 minutes, I hit BLOCK USER on the phone.
2:00 Am... I'm going to try to sleep.
You thought we were done?
Ha!
Rick calls in the morning (another phone) about getting Josh out of jail.
I say, "Don't do it... let him sit there and think for a while."
But he is naked, afraid, crying....
Good... maybe he will wake the hell up. Leave him there and face what his life is going on.
In one ear and out the other... the family and friends scraped up the money to bail him out.
They said they would get him an UBER to my house.
I said, "Like hell you will... he will be arrested the second he gets here. Threatened Marshall ... if Marshall so much as smells Josh it's 911 time... and back to jail."
I suggested they send him to Sonic or the pool down the street... I'll drop off the car... he goes home... and I either walk home, or get picked up by Marshall. Neutral, quiet, sensible, logical.
You didn't expect that to happen did you?
So Rick ordered an UBER, they would pick him up at the jail, and bring him down the street fom me to the pool 1 block away... that will be fine right?
Oh no... he can't stay at the JAIL... got forbid he should suffer the 10 minutes waiting for an Uber to get there.
Nobody can find him.
3 hours later he comes walking up the driveway, he said he ran the entire 10 miles from the jail to here... I told him to keep moving... go to the pool. He starts to argue... I said look up... Marshall is sitting with his phone out, 911 on redial.
He took the hint and started walking, I told Marshall that if he dialed the goddamned phone he would be evicted. I don't need this stress. So he sat there on the upper deck and watched.
I get Josh's car and drive to the pool.
He doesn't have his bill of sale for the car... does not know where it is, thinks Becky took it.
I called Becky... she says, "Sorry, I have plans to go with my friends... see ya!"
I walk to the house... and my knees are on fire... she's gone, could not wait for me.. ugg.. I never go in her room... but I do and look around.
I look for the paperwork... nope... can't find it.
I walk back... because I guess I wasn't hurting enough yet, nor tired enough to drive one block home again.
He searches the car again, doesn't have it... says he will come to the house and search Rebecca's room... I reminded him of Marshall on the front porch and the signed trespass order, and that he is not welcome at my house right now.
So back home I go... barely able to walk now... hard breathing, chest pounding. Yeah... I'm two steps from death's door... with the stress I go through... is it any wonder???
I video the whole room... and DRIVE to the pool to let him look at the video.
Not there... then he says he thinks it's in a green folder... and offers to get it. (Seriously? Memory of a goldfish? I had JUST told him what would happen if he stepped on the property.)
I search again... tear the room apart... strangely it looks better than when I started...
I go back... he is lamenting about driving with no tags, no paperwork...
I mentioned he should have thought about that a couple of days ago... before he drove here.
I tell him, look... when your brother was killed, Terryann and Rick burned through 750,000 hotel points and the $1200 I sent them... they needed it, but it pretty much tapped me out.
But... I have 56,000 points on Marriott... I'll put you there, get some rest... you have not slept for at least 36 hours by this point. Becky will look for your stuff in the morning... then you can go... you need to sleep or you are gonna crash. (Foreboding??)
Yeah... like that was going to happen. I could not talk him into it.
For the record... I offered 6 times to put him in a hotel. The hotel is 1-mile away.
I follow him to the gas station and fill the tank... pull out my last $40 and give it to him... then I tell him stop as soon as you can, get a meal, and rest. You are going to get tired quickly.
Did he do that?
Wait for it...
Nope.
Did you know that if you are traveling down a dark road at night tired you can fall asleep?
...and hit a brick wall.
...flip the car
...get a concussion
...several lacerations
...broken glass and dirt in your face
...blow every airbag in the car
...turn a nice car into scrap metal
And... as you have no working phone... sit there for a couple hours screaming until a policeman finds you bloody on the side of the road...
So yeah... that happened.
...hummm... police...
- Driving with no insurance
- Reckless driving
- etc, etc...
Ambulance to the hospital...
I get calls from Rick and Terryann... Rick is gonna go get him...
Sure you are Rick... you can believe that if you want...
Here are my hotel points... here is the last $148 I have in Paypal... best I can do... good luck...
Jumping back to Josh... you remember him yeah?
So his car is now several hunks of metal by now in a... anyone... anyone... impound lot...
Not that it matters much... it is no longer a car... more... humm... art.
Anyway... after crashing and getting injured... what do you do?
Realize you made a huge mistake, and start to sort it all out?
Nope.
You argue with the policeman, yell, scream, then say the magic words... "I'm going to kill myself... watch the news!"
Oh yeah... perfect.
The judge... see... now there is a judge... says, "A minimum of 72 hours in the psychiatric ward, no visitors, suicide watch."
So... he was sitting naked in a padded room... again.
I told Rick... I'm only going to say this once... "I told you to leave him in the jail... I told you so, I told you so."
(Yeah, I'm a dick... may as well embrace it by this point.)
Rick used the cash I sent to get a hotel room as it was way after midnight... he was very tired from the long day and all the stress... I really felt sorry for him. He put the room in my name so I get would extra hotel points. Whoo!
Rick went to attempt to get to the car to retrieve stuff and take pictures.
So that is where we stand at this point in time... horrible mess, and totally unnecessary.
And if Josh misses his Louisiana court date and they charge him the $6000 bail... will HE be able to pay it? (It will not be Pawpaw, that's for damned sure.)
Josh also has at least two court dates here in TX now... so he needs to come up with a way to shuttle between Houston, Kyle, and New Orleans. (Because also... I'm not paying.)
Am I going to pay for anything else... oh hell no... ATM is closed. Done, finished.
Let's see if Josh pays me back the $1800 or so I dropped fixing his issues... I doubt it.
Let's see if Josh pays me back the $1800 or so I dropped fixing his issues... I doubt it.
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