CCW HOLDER INTERVENES IN GUN BATTLE, HELPS SAVE LIVES AT THE EXPENSE OF HIS OWN...A REAL HERO!

From the Austin (TX) American-Statesman: Tyler shooting victim called a hero

Friends say gun enthusiast died trying to do the right thing

February 26, 2005

TYLER — After the shooting stopped, they found Mark Alan Wilson's cell phone on his desk, the door to his loft apartment ajar.

He hadn't hesitated. He'd raced down the steps toward the county courthouse nearby to confront a gunman who police say was spraying a vicious torrent of AK-47 fire at his ex-wife and adult son, law enforcement officials and the courthouse itself.

The lunchtime gunfight Thursday ended with three people dead: Wilson, 52; shooter David Hernandez Arroyo Sr., 43, who's believed to have been killed by a sheriff's deputy during a high-speed chase; and Arroyo's ex-wife, Maribel Estrada, 41. Three lawmen were wounded, one of them critically, in the melee, as was Arroyo's son, David Arroyo Jr., 22, who sustained a leg injury. Wilson was credited with probably saving the younger Arroyo's life.

Arroyo Sr. is believed to have carried out the assault because of a child-support dispute with his ex-wife.

Wilson's friends — and he had a wide and deep pool of them — reacted with utter lack of surprise that the gun enthusiast, racquetball pro and owner of a speedy white Porsche threw himself into the situation with his silver-plated Colt .45.

"That's Mark," said friend Lorraine Childress, who helped Wilson, a bachelor, celebrate his birthday recently at a party at his apartment. "He did what Mark would do. Had the man not had a bulletproof vest, Mark would have killed him."

"Not many people I know wouldn't have hesitated," said Jim Carter, Wilson's friend and supervisor at Sealtite, a Tyler business that makes specialty fasteners where Wilson had worked for several years. "He reacted as if it was his own family down there. I was at lunch with him 20 minutes before it happened. Talk about surreal. He was running an errand and stopped by his apartment."

A trained marksman and licensed concealed-handgun carrier, Wilson ran an indoor gun range in the late '90s aimed at teaching customers self-defense.

"I absolutely think what he did was heroic," said Dr. Scott M. Lieberman, a cardiologist and limited partner in the business, which ultimately failed. "He wanted to have a facility to train people to take these actions. It was the idea and principle of that business.

"We talked about scenarios like this," Lieberman said. "He wanted to have a facility to train people to take these actions. He felt, as I do, that the Second Amendment gives you the right to carry a weapon, but also the responsibility of handling it correctly."

John O'Sullivan, who owns the apartments where Wilson lived, said Wilson was a big booster of downtown Tyler's revitalization. Other friends said he was active in slow-pitch softball, as well as numerous charitable and civic activities.

Witnesses reported some 50 to 60 rounds fired before Arroyo, who was wearing multiple layers of body armor that repelled Wilson's shots to his chest, got into his extended-cab pickup and led officers on a chase that ended roughly two miles away. Initial reports said Arroyo had been shot through the rear window of his pickup, and that he stopped the truck and got out before falling mortally wounded to the ground.

On Friday, psychologist Wade French canceled his scheduled appointments and spent the day counseling people who'd been at or around the courthouse during the shooting. French, who frequently is dispatched to crime scenes, got a call from the sheriff's office Thursday to come to the courthouse, not knowing that one of the victims was a friend with whom he'd traded guns and gone out to dinner.

Wilson's running into a firefight, French said, "would have been as natural to him as sleeping."

Wilson's mother and sister, of Corpus Christi and Washington state, respectively, were en route Friday. A public memorial for Wilson was being planned for 1:30 p.m. Sunday, in the square across from the courthouse, in the downtown he died protecting.

"There is a Texas mystique, a cowboy myth, and a lot of guys live that, and Mark is in that mold," Lieberman said. "When he saw this guy firing rounds, Mark wasn't the kind of person to sit by and watch. He was going to intervene. It didn't work out for him, but he did save lives. This was an act of selflessness you can't say enough about. He lived the Texas dream, I guess."