Between the Lines -- Byron de Arakal

Seven days after this column first wrestled with the peculiar

circumstances surrounding the death of Newport Beach resident Gary

Holdren, we still know this much: The three lads purported to have been

seen toting paint-ball guns in the immediate area of where and around the

time when Holdren met his tragic demise on March 24 remain elusive.

Newport Beach police still want to talk to them, says Sgt. Steve Shulman.

We then have the intriguing conclusions of the Orange County coroner,

whose exploration of Holdren’s death could find no evidence the medical

device salesman “was struck by a paint ball or that he suffered any

direct injury from a paint-ball strike.”

Now I qualify the coroner’s deductions as intriguing only because they

seemed to fly against the initial press reports, constructed around

comments made by Newport Beach Police Lt. Rich Long, that Holdren had

been felled by paint-ball rounds.

Remember that it was Long who asked rhetorically in an interview with

the Daily Pilot, “So is this man supposed to be anticipating [such an

attack]?” And in the same story, he later called the alleged behavior

“inexcusable,” sharing that the incident was especially unprecedented in

the Back Bay.

Now even the light-witted might conclude that Long, and therefore the

department, was more than reasonably sure that illegal paint-ball

activity directly or indirectly caused Holdren to fall and strike his

head with enough force to kill him.

So when Shulman, speaking on the department’s behalf last week, said

it could no longer be sure what contributed to Holdren’s tumble, this

column explored two possibilities. The first being that the department

may have stubbed its toe in the investigation when it -- as represented

by Long’s comments to the press -- rather confidently and publicly

trumpeted its belief that Holdren had been assaulted. The other plot

offered here was that the police were demurring somewhat on their

original theory because they were hoping to draw out the three young

males seen in the area.

Now the former notion spawned pained grievances to my in-box claiming

unfair criticism of the Newport Beach Police Department. But a closer

read would have revealed my skepticism that the department booted this

one. Why?

Because I believe it’s far too professional an agency to place its

public credibility on the line by drawing pretty matter-of-fact

conclusions before it had the evidence to reach those conclusions.

Which then left me to trod the other apparent avenue. That the police

still believe, in my estimation, that Holdren’s fall was paint-ball

related. For if it weren’t, it seems to me the three missing youths would

gladly spare themselves the inner turmoil of hiding out, and save the

community the racking episodes of speculation and accusation in which

it’s mired even as you read.

Since then, we know a few bits more about this odd case that seem to

direct us toward a paint ball-related chain of events where Holdren is

concerned.

First, the picturesque neighborhoods of Eastbluff are stuck in a

persistent state of intense vibration over speculation -- and some claims

of knowing -- as to the identities of the three missing youth.

Meantime, Bonita Young -- Holdren’s girlfriend -- says she has passed

out 300 fliers in the community asking for help and has been peppered

with a flood of e-mails. Some have offered her support. Others claim to

know who the three are, but express fear of reprisals should they finger

the trio. Still others, she says, have suggested she “move on.”

The newest scraps of information -- which have been the buzz of

speculation and wonder in the community -- come from Shulman. In a

telephone interview Monday, he confirmed that wet paint was found not

only near Holdren, but on him as well.

Paint was found on a nearby sign also, he said.

So now that we know, according to official police statements, that wet

paint was found near and on Holdren as he lay unconscious from an awful

and violent fall, we are still left with a community on pins and needles,

three missing pieces and a confusing and incomplete canvas.

Only now the paint that’s on it is wet. Or so it seems.

* Byron de Arakal is a freelance writer and communications consultant.

He resides in Costa Mesa. His column appears Wednesdays. Readers can

reach him with news tips and comments via e-mail at o7

[email protected] . Visit his Web site at o7 www.byronwriter.comf7

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