
Daniel Rogers wasn’t dealt an easy hand.
He was a roofer cursed by bipolar disorder.
His father is an alcoholic with acknowledged mental problems. Rogers’ mother reportedly has Alzheimer’s disease and lives in a nursing home across Carpenter Street from where her son lived with his father in a ramshackle house.
Rogers, 27, was alternately violent and calm, the sort who would threaten to kill, then comply when cops told him to put his hands behind his back, according to records documenting numerous run-ins with the law. By all appearances, Springfield police officer John Shea underestimated the situation when he tried to arrest Rogers in January.
Rogers’ behavior was sufficiently worrisome that employees of the nursing home were warned to be careful. Records show that police had arrested Rogers three times in the space of a week at the house where he sat when Shea arrived. Jail and mental health centers proved revolving doors, and so it was up to police to handle a powder keg.
The result was tragic. Even as the handcuffs went on, Rogers made threats, and he made good on them, pummeling the officer and giving Shea little choice but to shoot.
After an investigation by Illinois State Police, Sangamon County State’s Attorney John Milhiser has declined to file charges against the officer. Police chief Kenny Winslow, citing the possibility of litigation, won’t talk about the case. But records raise questions about whether the tragedy could have been prevented.
A history of mental problems
In 2013, officers who responded to an accident to the intersection of South Grand Avenue and MacArthur Boulevard found Rogers sitting on a porch. Another man was standing in a yard. Both had blood on their clothes.
The man told police that he’d been rearended by Rogers. When the man got out of his car to check for damage, Rogers went berserk, according to reports.
“Come on!” Rogers told the man. Then he charged and began throwing punches. As an officer was talking to the man, Rogers approached. Stay where you are, the officer ordered. Rogers kept coming.
“Rogers was gritting his teeth, had his fists clenched and slightly raised, above his waist, and was scowling at me,” the officer wrote. Rogers kept advancing, threatening punches. Twice, the officer pushed Rogers back. Then police pulled Rogers to the ground and put him in a patrol car. He tried pulling away as handcuffs went on.
Rogers kicked out the passenger side rear window. “I’ll kill you fucking niggers!” he shouted. Then he began pushing the driver’s side window with his head and shoulders until it shattered. Rogers forced his way through broken glass, kicking and threatening to kill people. Officers summoned an ambulance that took Rogers to St. John’s Hospital, where he was given drugs to calm him down.
“His eyes were glazed over and he appeared high on an unknown drug,” an officer wrote in a report.
Charged with battery, resisting police and destruction of property, Rogers spent four months in jail before he was found mentally unfit to stand trial. He was sent to Chester Mental Health Center, where he recovered enough that he pleaded guilty to misdemeanor battery and was released 10 months after the incident.
Rogers
next came to the attention of Springfield police a year later, when
officers found him driving erratically on South 23 rd Street.
Rogers
seemed confused, an officer wrote in his report, and was so incoherent
that he could not use his phone when an officer asked that he call his
family. Police learned that someone had called 911 to report that Rogers
had been eating pills and talking to goats before driving off.
Rogers
told police that he’d been taking too much Depakote, a drug commonly
used to treat seizures and bipolar disorder, because he was bored. With
an officer riding along, an ambulance took Rogers to St. John’s
Hospital, where he was involuntarily committed.
Two
weeks later, Rogers was arrested for stealing vodka, beer, cigars and
cigarettes from the Northender on North Ninth Street. Police reported no
problems when taking him into custody. After being released from jail,
he failed to appear in court, and a bench warrant was issued. Someone
called 911 a few months later, reporting that he was driving through a
yard in Cantrall. Five deputies were dispatched. They arrived knowing
that Rogers could be trouble, dispatch records show.
“Subject
has been known to fight with officers in the past and drive around with
a compound bow and hammer in the vehicle,” deputies were told while en
route. Deputies served the bench warrant without apparent trouble.
A downward spiral
On Dec. 14, 2016, Rogers checked himself into Memorial Medical Center, where a psychiatrist called police.
The
psychiatrist told an officer that Rogers had threatened to kill his
father and an uncle with a hammer. Rogers admitted the threats, but told
an officer that he didn’t intend to carry them out. Nonetheless, an
officer checked the house that Rogers shared with his dad to make sure
no one needed help.
On
Christmas Eve, Rogers showed up at The Mosaic, the nursing home where
his mother lives that is across Carpenter Street from the house where
Rogers lived with his father. Rogers tried getting food from the staff
and also attempted to kick a nurse, according to a police incident
report. Police found him on his porch across the street, ordered him to
stay away from the nursing home and then left.
Rogers
was arrested after he returned to the nursing home shortly after 3:30
a.m. on Jan. 6. He was at his house when police arrived and told
officers that he’d gone to the nursing home to use a phone book. He was
released after two hours in jail.
Two
days later, police were back at Rogers’ home on a disturbance call.
With an officer present, Rogers began acting up when his father told him
that he should check himself into Memorial Medical Center for
psychiatric treatment.
“Daniel
became agitated and asked me to shoot him in the head,” an officer
wrote in his report. Rogers also threatened to punch his father. When
his father stated that Rogers often said that he wanted to kill himself,
Rogers grabbed his dad’s throat.
“I’ll
kill you!” Rogers yelled. An officer pushed Rogers away. He was booked
for domestic battery and released from jail two days later.
Milhiser
says that Rogers’ father didn’t want to press charges, and so none were
filed, but Rogers pleaded guilty to trespassing in connection with the
nursing home incident before he was freed. Milhiser says that he spoke
with Rogers before he left the jail and told him that he needed
psychiatric help. Sangamon County Associate Judge Rudolph Braud accepted
the guilty plea, and Milhiser said that the judge also told Rogers to
get psychiatric help. But advice from the prosecutor and judge fell
short of enforceable orders.
“After
talking with Daniel Rogers, I talked to the mental health center (at
Memorial Medical Center) and told them to expect him to show up,”
Milhiser says. “And they were waiting for him to come over there.” But
Rogers apparently didn’t show up.
Three
days later, on Jan. 13, Rogers was arrested again for domestic battery.
He was taken into custody after his father showed up at Memorial
Medical Center with abrasions and bruises. He told police that his son
had stomped on him and beaten him with a tree branch. A relative told
police that Rogers had been acting erratically during the past two months and was starting fights with his father.
Police
who arrested Rogers at his home reported that he tensed up as he was
being handcuffed and began pulling away. But he otherwise didn’t resist.
After four days in jail, he was freed, with no charges filed. One week
later, he was dead.
A fatal encounter 
Before
they headed out for a smoke break on Jan. 23, a co-worker at The Mosaic
had warned two nursing aides to be careful. There was a guy outside,
threatening people.
Rogers
approached and asked for a lighter when the aides crossed the street to
the side where he lived. One of the aides saw that the hand-rolled
cigarette that Rogers had just lit didn’t look in good shape, so she
gave him one of hers. He put the lit cigarette in his pocket. Be
careful, one of the aides told him – you don’t want to catch your
clothes on fire.
“I want to kill myself every day,” Rogers responded.
“When
he said he wanted to kill himself every day, we was looking at each
other saying, ‘Yeah, that’s the guy,’” one of the aides later told state
police. But the aide said that Rogers didn’t appear dangerous. He said
“thank you” for the cigarette and sat back down in the wheelchair he was
using.
“He was soft spoken,” the aide told state police. “We never felt threatened by him, so I never gave it much thought.”
Video
from a surveillance camera on a nearby house shows Rogers kicking
something. A supervisor at the nursing home told investigators that it
was a basketball, which Rogers would kick so hard that it went over
houses, only to be retrieved and kicked again. Then Rogers started
digging at the ground.
“(H)e
bent over like a dog and was raking leaves and sticks out into the road
(with his hands) between his legs, backwards,” the supervisor told
police. Video from the surveillance camera shows Rogers pushing leaves,
dirt and other debris into the street with such force that an entire
lane is covered nearly to the centerline.
A
few drivers honked, perhaps after sticks or other debris struck their
vehicles. Eventually, Rogers retrieved his basketball and threw it at
the supervisor and a colleague who were in the nursing home parking lot
across the street.
A
nursing home administrator had told the supervisor to be careful
because Rogers had threatened someone with a stick or a “shiv,” state
police reported. But the supervisor didn’t sense trouble. He retrieved
the basketball as Rogers approached in a wheelchair, rambling and
mumbling. When he was five feet away from the supervisor, Rogers asked
about his ball. The supervisor rolled it to him. Then Rogers spoke.
“The
thing I distinctly heard him say is that he didn’t have no problem
stabbing or killing anyone in front of my mom’s house,” the supervisor
told police. Rogers then wheeled back across the street.
Police
were called shortly before 10:15 a.m. There was a man at the corner of
Walnut and Carpenter streets, throwing things at cars. A dispatch log
shows that police were told he was a possible 10-96, police jargon for a
mentally ill person.
“Caller
says he lives on Carpenter and is crazy,” the log reads. “Talking about
spirits. Making gun gestures with hands. Keeps getting in a neighbor’s
wheelchair and going in roadway.”
Shea and an officer in another car responded.
After
checking for four minutes and finding nothing amiss, they departed.
Three minutes later, dispatch reported that the man again was throwing
rocks at cars. Shea came back.
“He’s
in a wheelchair in front of his house,” Shea told a dispatcher as he
parked. It’s not clear how Shea knew where Rogers lived – the officer
told state police investigators that he had had no previous dealings
with Rogers.
“He’s got
a tire iron and he’s swinging it at me, getting ready to throw it at
me,” Shea told dispatchers as he prepared to get out of his car. “Ah, he
threw the tire iron at me. Start me a couple more units.”
With
backup en route, Shea got out of his car. He wrote in his report that
he believed that there was a “real possibility” that Rogers would attack
him or people across the street in the nursing home parking lot.
“What
are you doing?” Shea asked as he walked toward Rogers’ house. “Why are
you throwing sticks at me?” Rogers rose from a wheelchair and appeared
to throw something violently into the ground,
as if spiking a football. Then he walked toward Shea, arms raised up
slightly at his sides, Incredible Hulk style. Shea’s body camera
captured Rogers saying something indecipherable as he and the officer
walked toward each other. In his report, Shea says that Rogers was
inviting him to fight.
“’You
wanna fight, bitch?’” Shea wrote in his report. “He puffed up and held
his arms out to his side so I could see that his chest was big and his
upper body was well defined and developed.” Shea drew his Taser, holding
it so that Rogers could see.
“No,
I don’t want to fight – calm down,” the officer said. “You’re throwing
shit at me. What’s your deal? Turn around and put your hands behind your
back.”
Rogers hopped
down from a yard and onto the sidewalk in front of Shea. He put his
hands behind his back and appeared ready for arrest. Shea holstered his
Taser.
“You just want
to go to jail?” Shea asked as he got out handcuffs. “Is that your deal?
Why?” “Because I’m frustrated,” Rogers answered as the officer cuffed
his right hand. “I feel like beating your ass. You know how bad I want
to beat the fuck out of you?” Shea never got the chance to secure the
left cuff.
Rogers spun
out of Shea’s control and landed a blow in the officer’s face, breaking
his nose. In his report, Shea writes that he fought back, but punches
had no effect.
“(A)ll I
could do was hang onto him and tuck my head down in an effort to
protect my face and let him hit the top of my head in hopes that he
would break his hand and stop punching me,” Shea wrote. “I could feel
him pulling on my duty gear and my weapon. I knew if he disarmed me he
would certainly kill me. … My vision was going gray and I knew I was
losing the fight and that I had to end this fight.”
From across the street, a nurse’s aide watched in horror.
“It
looked like he (Rogers) was trying to reach for his gun,” the aide told
state police investigators. “The poor man – he was just pounding on
him.”
His vision
fading, Shea went to the ground, drew his gun and started firing. The
first shots seemed to have little effect. “I believed he was still
coming at me, and I kept firing my duty weapon one handed and through
the fog in my head until he went to the ground and did not move and I
believed he was no longer a threat,” Shea wrote in his report. Minutes
after the shooting, Shea sounds calm on body camera footage as he tells
other officers what happened.
“I was shooting him as I went down,” Shea said. “He knocked me back, and I just kept firing.”
All
eight shots found their mark, with two striking Rogers in the abdomen,
one hitting him in an arm and five penetrating his back and buttocks.
Forty seconds after the last shot, police cars started arriving.
The
mentally ill are prone to police shootings. In 2015, at least 254 of
the 991 people fatally shot by police in the United states exhibited
signs of mental illness, according to a Washington Post report.
Rogers was the third mentally ill person to die at the hands of
Springfield police since 2002. Shea, who has received specialized
training on how to deal with the mentally ill, also pulled the trigger
in 2008, when William Geiser attacked another officer with a steak
knife.
Geiser, who had
been making crank telephone calls, had locked himself in his motel room
and refused to open the door. He didn’t like uniforms – he had once
maced a firefighter and had also threatened a security guard with butter
knives. He opened the door at the behest of a woman who knew him and
asked for a hug. When he saw an officer outside, he attacked (“Shooting
video withheld,” Feb. 9, 2017).
Shea and another officer who shot Geiser received commendations.
The aftermath
His
son, whom everyone called Dan-Dan, has been dead for more than a month,
and Thomas Rogers is drunk in his living room, a depleted half-case of
Icehouse beer at his feet and an electric Santa Claus figure turning
back and forth on a table beside him. Outside, makeshift crosses,
stuffed animals and an empty beer can are nailed to a tree at the spot
where his son was shot.
Thomas
Rogers acknowledges alcoholism and also says that he has bipolar
disorder. He doesn’t have good words for either police or psychiatrists.
Rogers said his son never stayed long when he sought psychiatric
treatment.
“He went a
few times, but they wouldn’t keep him,” Rogers says. “The doctor said
there’s nothing wrong with him. … Anybody who says they’re going to kill
someone with a hammer, what the hell are they doing letting him out?”
Was he dangerous? Thomas Rogers pauses. “No,” he answers. Then he pauses
again.
“He was dangerous. The cops already knew. They’d come here a bunch of times.”
Shea
should have waited for backup instead of trying to make the arrest by
himself, Thomas Rogers says. Why did he fire so many times, he asks. His
son was a good kid, but he had anger issues and just snapped.
“I
ain’t gonna lie: The kid made me nervous,” Thomas Rogers says. “The
only thing I’ve got to say is, he’s better off where he’s at. I don’t
have to worry about him knocking me in the head and him spending the
rest of his life in prison.”
Springfield
police won’t answer questions about the case, including whether Shea
should have waited for backup. Milhiser says that the county probation
office is hiring a mental health counselor to evaluate defendants to
determine whether they need psychiatric help. He acknowledges cracks in
the system when it comes to folks like Rogers.
“The
jail would have him, but the hospital wouldn’t keep him and family
didn’t want criminal charges,” he says. “We can do better with those
individuals who are coming to the jail with mental health issues, and we
need to do better.”
Contact Bruce Rushton at brushton@illinoistimes.com.