Page 10/The Battalion/Monday, April 16, 1984 Sniper who killed two kept arsenal In his home R.I. by Paul Din Ch United Press International NORFOLK, Va. — Friends of a gun enthusiast who shot to death a woman and a police of ficer before dying in a shootout with police described the man as paranoid and troubled by “voices,” a published report said Sunday. Nathanial Robertson, a com puter technician who had a his tory of mental problems, was killed by police at the end of an eight-hour standoff Saturday when he charged out of his house heavily armed and fired at officers, who had lobbed tear gas into the house. “He was always calling here DEFENSIVE DRIVING COURSE April 1 7 & 18 RAMADAINN Pre-register by phone: 693-8178/846-1904 FEE $20 Ticket Deferral and 10% Insurance Discount Serving Luncheon Buffet Sandwich and Soup Bar Mezzanine Floor Sunday through Friday a.m. to i :30 p.m. Delicious Food Beautiful View Open to the Public ^ “Quality First” and asking if we heard the voices in his back yard,” Shirley Hues, Robertson’s next-door neighbor in the city’s Norview section, told The Virginian-Pi lot and The Ledger Star. She said he kept a virtual ar senal of guns in his small home. “He loved guns,” said Hues, to whom Robertson had shown his gun collection at least once. “His ex-wife said he had 22 guns, and one of them was a machine gun.” Robertson, she said, kept a gun in every room of his house. The siege began shortly after midnight Friday when Rob ertson fatally shot Diane Lam- bino, 25, a mother of two from Virginia Beach who was eight months pregnant, as she sat in a car in front of his house. When police were sum moned, Robertson, 39, killed officer Douglas Drye, 26, with a single shot to the chest from a high-powered scope rifle. Police cordoned off the area during the ensuing standoff and evacuated residents of nearby homes. Efforts by his family and friends to persuade him to give up were unsuccess ful. Police said Robertson fired at them all night. Carolyn Nichols, with whom Robertson had lived for about eight years, and Hues, said Rob ertson had been suffering from severe bouts of paranoia last week. Nichols said Robertson had locked her and their two young children in a bathroom twice last week. “He had kept them in there for three or four hours each time and had said he did it because people were trying to hurt him,” Hues said. Nichols said she tried to get help for Robertson Friday from a public mental health pro gram. She said a staff member of Norfolk’s Community Men tal Health Services who had talked to Robertson by tele phone later told her that the agency could not help him be cause Robertson did not sound dangerous. I hey said they could not do nothing. I hey said he seemed all right,” she said. “How could they know over the phone?” Fhe emergency services unit of the mental health agency ni'h wh’S contl ™ Saturday mglit whether thev had t .it i with Robertson Y ' ld,ked //^y m gomaja go talk. 7D T.TL.roP! 1 HEY GVY5!iAJHA?d UP ? f WEVE JUZrCQitE I FXtfM THE EFT OFOOfK \ mirH VIDEO FfoA THE i ''HUHitWOfK'ALBUM. V ^ _ C DUSTY *T ARE GUAM Go GET SHE PUNCH. YOUKUOWjFKT, lUEHtl Pictured TOP TV PET ^ AII , y yEAH,m { ] F Lx. y Unit NASI ■ent w l\ in fgtnis ■<>pi» n ■urch < ■ A set ■eking! imsly Island Suicide 'Golden Boy tokes his life — reason unknown Unit United Press International TUCLIMCARI, N . M . — Northwest of 4,957-foot Tu- cumcari Mountain, and a few hundred yards from the fast track of Interstate 40, teenager Rod David took a 20-gauge shotgun and inexplicably gave up on life. Teenage suicides, however tragic, occur with alarming fre quency in many of the nation’s towns and cities. Even in Tucumcari, a town of motels, restaurants and gas sta tions strung along old U.S. 66 on New Mexico’s windswept eastern plains, teenage suicide like David’s a week ago was not u n precedented. A few months back, for in stance, another student at the high school had killed himself. But, says Anthony Sweeney, the school’s principal the past four years, that young man was not Rod David, the “Golden Boy,” the kid they called “Rock.” “It was a student who moved in from out of town. He had moved here and only been here a couple of months,” recalled Sweeney. By contrast, the blond, 6-3, 205-pound David, born 18 years ago in Holdrege, Neb., was a modern-day Adonis, a scholar-athlete who would have gotten most of the attention at any high school. In the working class commu wf 1 . 1 'n da ^ rdl y 8,000, in a town without a college, David’s heroics on the football field, the basketball r* \ vmOWE, CHICKEN $4.44 8 pieces of chicKen arid 8 rolls. Ofter good at a\\ participating Tinsley's ChlcXen n Rolls. r* \ i i CHICK. ’N SNACK $144 2 pieces of chicken, 1 roll and 1 vegetable. Regularly $2.-13 Offer good at all participating Tinsley's CVviclten 'n Rolls. court and the track approached mythic proportions. His coaches found it difficult sometimes to agree about where the boy with the easy smile could best showcase his talents. For now. Rod had chosen the football field. He planned to en roll at Texas Tech in the fall on a full athletic scholarship. His older brother, Stan, had been one of the top players on the 1983 Red Raider team. An other brother, Mick, was a player at South Dakota. The David boys had always made their mark at Tucumcari High School. An all-stater in three sports. Rod David had done nothing to denigrate the family name in Tucumcari. If anything, he may have been the family’s star of stars. Two days before he stuck a shotgun up close to his chest and pulled the trigger, the qui escent, “gentle giant” helped his teammates win the Rattler Re lays by taking home three firsts and a second. Four days after his success at the track meet, 1,500 people — toddlers, students, business men, housewives, ranchers and grandmothers — were jammed into somber old Rattler Gymna sium to sing hymns and pay homage to the young man whose body lay inside a golden casket. They sat numbly, staring at the gleaming metal coffin in front of the basketball rosier on the wall that still bore David’s name and his number — 34. That number and the 15 he wore in football were retired that day. The mourners felt their wrenching loss separately and collectively as Van Pryor, Da vid’s rugged looking football coach, struggled vainly durin his eulogy to ward off mounting grief. “Those of us that knew hiti for only a short period of timt are richer for it,” Pryor said choking back sobs. “If the human spirit can lx compared to a cloth, and each of us is a thread in the tapestn of life, then, undoubtedly, those threads that belonged to Roil David are golden,” he said. I Ith Street home( | COLl Idsiigau lay h Rider’s iv use “ 1 loine of a Rai is near that sign H s P re led in ^Rar the lepartment IWlldt Unit Four clays after his success at the track nicely 1,500 people — toddlers, students, businessmen, house wives, ranchers and grandmothers — n ere jammed into somber old Rattler Gymna sium to sing hymns and pay homage to the young man whose body lay inside a golden casket. S( Hit ll Sllliplv, It w; water found the youth s Jifelt " ferdiac |tist beloie 2 p.m.lastMoflM u ltar \ leu weeks earlier.asM m hjv of his Fellowship of (lit Liver d Athletes activities, the bR some teenager had tolkcldf nations that would he pa\ the heating hills ofj the town’s (lisadvantai'etll dei Iv. “ 1 here was so nuicHfflO ibis iban Rod heittj athlete," principal Sv last week. “You’d j have seen it to he he \ e it. HL0S Iaacp At week s end, noonejiRree-dc cominunitv had a sati'fuR' 5 ‘ ia explanation lot why die J s ('* 00< teenager had killed himself* diff Most ol the spedilatioo®” mui leied on pressure—thenetjR^' sin « re< I. ihe expectations,olE“Weh ati\e> and peers, the reWRssions dun to .u hieve still moreilRntinut noi squabble v ith hi- . Ia.il Mu; an .u < unutlalion otthitiM the one really kne« lain, al Rabl), spoils edilffRg with j i.ipei. said, H 1 Resider die pressure on biRyorl ear-old “ ' But in Boots te loca U times lost 18- A member of his high school’s Honor Society since his freshman year, David was known for his selflessness off the athletic field. Despite his formidable ath letic achievements, the squat, hand-letter sign outside his Red-eyed Sisto Garcia, son. I ommy, had been • David's teammates sine eighth grade, stood\\\iM wind Wednesday otiisiil gymnasium, as thronf mom net s filed past'tin’ casket in the foyer. ’J With his wife al hissidi i ia w.isn't looking for anfl® lai explanations for the M ager’s death. a t m 1 Worker killed by crate Walk, Cycle, or Shuttle. It’s only 8 Blocks. Half Rate for Summer with a year's lease Eff, 1 & 2 bedrooms starting at 240.00. 3902 COLLEGE MAIN country place apartments 846'0515 Unit< FORI )sse of 1 bloot s, folli )ssible Burden ••l-year-' "We’r 'ea we Bob i B H ‘ g Unilrd Press International By. A US I IN — An Austin ml.“ The > who was reluctantly worh 1 * 15 {,, ’f overtime on his I hn "•‘"i'lif™' 11 anniversary was killed mr'i st i -b^Rirn sau weekend .ii c \ constructlOflW^ in downtown Austin. - e Juan Ramon Alcoser,30,R Vlcls pronounced dead SaturdayR Brack' midge Hospital altmRjBH crate broke loose troru ;m head cable and fell on liitii. “He wasn't scheduled work, but they called himina| he haled to tell them no, Alcoser s wife Gloria, ;37, 4 had planned a special roast! dinner for their anniversary “1 le never missed achantf work extra when he could,”| said. “Now I wish I had (alb him out of going GIVE YOUR MEALS A BIG LIFT. With Tinsley's li^ht n’ crispy chicken, fresh-baked rolls, anG scrumptious side orders ike potato salad, cole slaw, french fries and corn-on-the-cob, you're all set to serve up an easy feast. Phi Sigma National BiologicalTionor Society Beta Rho Chapter Will be forced to go inactive status unless: A faculty advisor plus 4 student officers are found by April 30, 1984. Members desiring to fill these positions should call: Dr. Gwen Elissalde 845-9185 or Blair Brenner 845-8429 s Roll i before April 30, 1984 Chicken ’n rolls