A tragic ending to custody fight Among the father's last telephone calls � 'I just killed my son' By Gregory Alan Gross, Greg Moran and Joe Hughes STAFF WRITERS September 6, 2003 Almost from birth, 14-year-old Evan Nash was the living rope in a legal tug of war between his mother, Lucy Nash, and his father, Bill Hoffine. 'His father . . . everybody was freaked about that' Their custody feud generated a string of appearances in Family Court and a pile of legal filings the thickness of telephone books. For Hoffine, it also brought a backlog of legal bills and debts that led to financial ruin and a deep-seated anger that would define both his life and Evan's. What no one knew, not even Lewis Waldman, one of Hoffine's longtime friends, was that it would lead to a cellular phone call Thursday afternoon from an Ocean Beach townhouse where Hoffine had taken refuge: "Lew, I just killed my son. I want to talk to you for a few minutes." It would be among the last calls Hoffine would make. A police SWAT team would later find Hoffine dead, a suicide, about 10 hours after he ambushed and fired multiple shots into Evan as the boy was running with his high school cross-country team and coach in Ocean Beach. The murder-suicide came a week after Hoffine was served with a court order demanding he stay away from his son and Evan's mother. It also ordered him to surrender the four guns he owned. A hearing on making the order permanent was set for Wednesday. The deaths are an extreme example of how volatile these custody disputes, played out every day in family courts, can become. And the loss of life has touched a nerve among an untold number of warring parents and people who have witnessed such bitter battles. The battle between Hoffine and Evan's mother is recorded in five massive court files. All Evan had ever wanted, according to those who knew the family, was to enjoy running with his school friends and to one day attend the U.S. Naval Academy at Annapolis. All his parents wanted, it seemed, was him. Agreement unravels Evan was about the only thing binding Nash and Hoffine. The two had never married, or even lived together. But both were determined to be Evan's parent. In 1991, Hoffine went to court to establish his paternity. He believed that Nash, now an art teacher at Mar Vista High School in Imperial Beach, planned to bring up Evan as a single parent, something Hoffine opposed. Eventually, Nash was given physical custody of the boy, but Hoffine, who once taught math at Arcadia High School near Los Angeles, was granted joint legal custody. A schedule of regular visitations and time sharing was worked out, a common solution in custody cases. Within a year, Hoffine was complaining that Nash was violating the agreement. "Accept the fact that some issues will never be resolved to your satisfaction, as I have," she wrote to Hoffine in March 1992. "Get on with your life." Friends of Hoffine say that wasn't possible. Evan was his life. For a time, Hoffine had a computer business in San Diego. He called it Thank Evan for Desktop Video. Hoffine's e-mail address was "[email protected]. "I think the time he spent with Evan was the only significant part of his life," said Hoffine's friend Waldman. Over the years, Hoffine and Nash wrestled over schooling choices for Evan. Nash complained that Hoffine was too involved. Nash noted in her restraining order application that Hoffine had threatened legal actions against Evan's kindergarten teacher, elementary school principal and San Diego city schools at various times. She also said that three mediators who had worked with the couple over the years had terminated their services when Hoffine threatened to sue them. Nash could not be reached for an interview yesterday. Threatening lawsuits was common with Hoffine, said Navy Petty Officer 2nd Class Scott Oram, who runs the Naval Sea Cadet Corps program for youngsters at Miramar Marine Corps Air Station. Evan was enrolled in the Sea Cadets, a scouting-like Navy program, from December 2000 to early 2002. Oram described Hoffine as "a raging lunatic." From the beginning, Evan loved the Sea Cadets, and Oram said the youngster excelled. "Evan loved it. He participated in every program we had, he was moving up in the ranks," Oram said. "He was a quiet kid, never obnoxious. If you ever saw him, you'd have thought he was a mama's boy, but he was a great kid." Even there, however, the boy found no escape from the wrangling of his parents. "His father wanted him out of the program and his mother wanted to keep him in," Oram said. "He (Hoffine) was trying to exercise his parental authority. He came across as a calm, collected individual, but if he saw you as a challenge to his authority, it was a whole different ballgame." Evan was allowed to stay in the Sea Cadets, in large part, Oram said, because "as far as we were concerned, the mother was the primary parent." Oram said that when Hoffine found that out, he went ballistic. "He started calling my house, harassing me," Oram said. "He sent e-mails to my commanding officer, to the command master chief, all the way up the line to admirals in the Pacific Fleet, telling them what a scuzzball I was, how I had no business working with kids. "My whole chain of command had to tell him to stop calling us." But Hoffine's friends saw it differently. John Hillard, who grew up with Hoffine in Pasadena and whose brother was Hoffine's best friend, said Hoffine once had a "thriving" computer business, but died penniless because of his constant court battles with Evan's mom. He called Hoffine "an amazing guy" who was "destroyed" by the Family Court system. Friends of Hoffine said he was unemployed and had no job prospects in sight. At one point, Hoffine stayed in Hillard's Ridgecrest home for six months. He was despondent. "He was within days of being homeless," Hillard said of Hoffine. Still, "He was well-loved by all his friends." Waldman agreed. Hoffine, he said, was very concerned with Evan's education, helping Evan pull his grades up from D's to A's at one point. The battles, though, left their scars on Evan. The Sea Cadets' Oram said: "Our organization finally had to say to this young man, 'You need to leave this program until your parents can work out their issues.' " Warnings In requesting the restraining order, Nash had told the court that Evan had told his therapist of threats from his dad, threats to kill Evan and himself. It was the therapist, Nash said, who urged her to seek the court order. Nash made note of Hoffine's gun collection � a .45-caliber handgun, a .357 Magnum and a .380-caliber pistol and a shotgun. Friends recalled Hoffine as a sportsman who took Evan shooting with him. Nash also noted in court files that Hoffine was eight years and more than $60,000 behind on his child-support payments, that he blamed her for his financial woes, and said that Hoffine "has decided he will not go to jail under any circumstances." Court records show Hoffine's financial problems were mounting. He had amassed about $45,000 in credit card debt between 1990 and 2000. In October 2000, he filed for bankruptcy. Meanwhile, the rancor between Nash and Hoffine may have been affecting Evan. In October 2000, a psychiatrist said Evan was depressed. At that time, Hoffine was trying to get Evan to agree to go to a special school in San Diego instead of Dana Middle School. Around that time, Evan wrote a note to his mother, which Hoffine included in the court file. "You say you want to know how I feel," it reads in an uneven printed scrawl with spelling and grammar errors. "I feel like life is not important I don't care about anything if there were a gun in the house Id be dead I give you my word the only reason I haven't stabbed myself is because it would hurt bad there is no meaning to life." In an affidavit filed at that time, Lucy Nash sounded an ominous note. "All of this contention is destroying Evan. I feel I must capitulate completely or 'fight to the death.' " she wrote. She pleaded with the court to pick one parent to have full custody of Evan. "King Solomon knew that you can't split a child between two parents. It is time the Court learned that lesson," she wrote. There is no indication in the file that the custody arrangements were changed. Yesterday, a street shrine started to build at the blood-stained spot where Evan was gunned down. Passers-by expressed shock and anger over the killing as they looked at candles, flowers, cards, a Point Loma High Pointer athletic shirt, and a card signed by the University City High School cross-country team on the sidewalk. Said Lorraine Castle, one of the many who dropped by: "I just can't understand it." -------------------------------------------------------------------------------- Greg Gross: (619) 498-6632; [email protected] -------------------------------------------------------------------------------- Moran: (619) 542-4586; [email protected] -------------------------------------------------------------------------------- Hughes: (619) 542-4591; [email protected]
Among the father's last telephone calls � 'I just killed my son'
By Gregory Alan Gross, Greg Moran and Joe Hughes STAFF WRITERS
September 6, 2003
Almost from birth, 14-year-old Evan Nash was the living rope in a legal tug of war between his mother, Lucy Nash, and his father, Bill Hoffine.
'His father . . . everybody was freaked about that'
Their custody feud generated a string of appearances in Family Court and a pile of legal filings the thickness of telephone books.
For Hoffine, it also brought a backlog of legal bills and debts that led to financial ruin and a deep-seated anger that would define both his life and Evan's.
What no one knew, not even Lewis Waldman, one of Hoffine's longtime friends, was that it would lead to a cellular phone call Thursday afternoon from an Ocean Beach townhouse where Hoffine had taken refuge:
"Lew, I just killed my son. I want to talk to you for a few minutes."
It would be among the last calls Hoffine would make.
A police SWAT team would later find Hoffine dead, a suicide, about 10 hours after he ambushed and fired multiple shots into Evan as the boy was running with his high school cross-country team and coach in Ocean Beach.
The murder-suicide came a week after Hoffine was served with a court order demanding he stay away from his son and Evan's mother.
It also ordered him to surrender the four guns he owned.
A hearing on making the order permanent was set for Wednesday.
The deaths are an extreme example of how volatile these custody disputes, played out every day in family courts, can become. And the loss of life has touched a nerve among an untold number of warring parents and people who have witnessed such bitter battles.
The battle between Hoffine and Evan's mother is recorded in five massive court files. All Evan had ever wanted, according to those who knew the family, was to enjoy running with his school friends and to one day attend the U.S. Naval Academy at Annapolis.
All his parents wanted, it seemed, was him.
Agreement unravels Evan was about the only thing binding Nash and Hoffine. The two had never married, or even lived together. But both were determined to be Evan's parent. In 1991, Hoffine went to court to establish his paternity. He believed that Nash, now an art teacher at Mar Vista High School in Imperial Beach, planned to bring up Evan as a single parent, something Hoffine opposed.
Eventually, Nash was given physical custody of the boy, but Hoffine, who once taught math at Arcadia High School near Los Angeles, was granted joint legal custody.
A schedule of regular visitations and time sharing was worked out, a common solution in custody cases.
Within a year, Hoffine was complaining that Nash was violating the agreement.
"Accept the fact that some issues will never be resolved to your satisfaction, as I have," she wrote to Hoffine in March 1992. "Get on with your life."
Friends of Hoffine say that wasn't possible.
Evan was his life.
For a time, Hoffine had a computer business in San Diego. He called it Thank Evan for Desktop Video. Hoffine's e-mail address was "[email protected].
"I think the time he spent with Evan was the only significant part of his life," said Hoffine's friend Waldman.
Over the years, Hoffine and Nash wrestled over schooling choices for Evan. Nash complained that Hoffine was too involved.
Nash noted in her restraining order application that Hoffine had threatened legal actions against Evan's kindergarten teacher, elementary school principal and San Diego city schools at various times.
She also said that three mediators who had worked with the couple over the years had terminated their services when Hoffine threatened to sue them.
Nash could not be reached for an interview yesterday.
Threatening lawsuits was common with Hoffine, said Navy Petty Officer 2nd Class Scott Oram, who runs the Naval Sea Cadet Corps program for youngsters at Miramar Marine Corps Air Station.
Evan was enrolled in the Sea Cadets, a scouting-like Navy program, from December 2000 to early 2002. Oram described Hoffine as "a raging lunatic."
From the beginning, Evan loved the Sea Cadets, and Oram said the youngster excelled.
"Evan loved it. He participated in every program we had, he was moving up in the ranks," Oram said. "He was a quiet kid, never obnoxious. If you ever saw him, you'd have thought he was a mama's boy, but he was a great kid." Even there, however, the boy found no escape from the wrangling of his parents.
"His father wanted him out of the program and his mother wanted to keep him in," Oram said. "He (Hoffine) was trying to exercise his parental authority. He came across as a calm, collected individual, but if he saw you as a challenge to his authority, it was a whole different ballgame."
Evan was allowed to stay in the Sea Cadets, in large part, Oram said, because "as far as we were concerned, the mother was the primary parent."
Oram said that when Hoffine found that out, he went ballistic.
"He started calling my house, harassing me," Oram said. "He sent e-mails to my commanding officer, to the command master chief, all the way up the line to admirals in the Pacific Fleet, telling them what a scuzzball I was, how I had no business working with kids.
"My whole chain of command had to tell him to stop calling us."
But Hoffine's friends saw it differently.
John Hillard, who grew up with Hoffine in Pasadena and whose brother was Hoffine's best friend, said Hoffine once had a "thriving" computer business, but died penniless because of his constant court battles with Evan's mom.
He called Hoffine "an amazing guy" who was "destroyed" by the Family Court system.
Friends of Hoffine said he was unemployed and had no job prospects in sight. At one point, Hoffine stayed in Hillard's Ridgecrest home for six months.
He was despondent. "He was within days of being homeless," Hillard said of Hoffine. Still, "He was well-loved by all his friends."
Waldman agreed. Hoffine, he said, was very concerned with Evan's education, helping Evan pull his grades up from D's to A's at one point.
The battles, though, left their scars on Evan.
The Sea Cadets' Oram said:
"Our organization finally had to say to this young man, 'You need to leave this program until your parents can work out their issues.' "
Warnings In requesting the restraining order, Nash had told the court that Evan had told his therapist of threats from his dad, threats to kill Evan and himself. It was the therapist, Nash said, who urged her to seek the court order. Nash made note of Hoffine's gun collection � a .45-caliber handgun, a .357 Magnum and a .380-caliber pistol and a shotgun.
Friends recalled Hoffine as a sportsman who took Evan shooting with him.
Nash also noted in court files that Hoffine was eight years and more than $60,000 behind on his child-support payments, that he blamed her for his financial woes, and said that Hoffine "has decided he will not go to jail under any circumstances."
Court records show Hoffine's financial problems were mounting. He had amassed about $45,000 in credit card debt between 1990 and 2000.
In October 2000, he filed for bankruptcy.
Meanwhile, the rancor between Nash and Hoffine may have been affecting Evan.
In October 2000, a psychiatrist said Evan was depressed. At that time, Hoffine was trying to get Evan to agree to go to a special school in San Diego instead of Dana Middle School.
Around that time, Evan wrote a note to his mother, which Hoffine included in the court file. "You say you want to know how I feel," it reads in an uneven printed scrawl with spelling and grammar errors. "I feel like life is not important I don't care about anything if there were a gun in the house Id be dead I give you my word the only reason I haven't stabbed myself is because it would hurt bad there is no meaning to life."
In an affidavit filed at that time, Lucy Nash sounded an ominous note.
"All of this contention is destroying Evan. I feel I must capitulate completely or 'fight to the death.' " she wrote.
She pleaded with the court to pick one parent to have full custody of Evan. "King Solomon knew that you can't split a child between two parents. It is time the Court learned that lesson," she wrote.
There is no indication in the file that the custody arrangements were changed.
Yesterday, a street shrine started to build at the blood-stained spot where Evan was gunned down.
Passers-by expressed shock and anger over the killing as they looked at candles, flowers, cards, a Point Loma High Pointer athletic shirt, and a card signed by the University City High School cross-country team on the sidewalk.
Said Lorraine Castle, one of the many who dropped by: "I just can't understand it."
-------------------------------------------------------------------------------- Greg Gross: (619) 498-6632; [email protected]
-------------------------------------------------------------------------------- Moran: (619) 542-4586; [email protected]
-------------------------------------------------------------------------------- Hughes: (619) 542-4591; [email protected]