George Hill
Staff Alumnus
http://www.chron.com/cs/CDA/story.hts/metropolitan/1484624
Sounds like the constible is going to be up for Murder.July 7, 2002, 9:14AM
Victim was killed with constable's gun, but who fired shots?
By CINDY HORSWELL
Copyright 2002 Houston Chronicle
COLDSPRING -- Dennis Ray Hollis was grinning ear to ear that Saturday after he and his best friend caught a string of 24 catfish from Lake Livingston.
When it grew dark, the 23-year-old oil field worker and his friend, Dustin Paradeaux, put on neatly starched jeans, Western shirts and cowboy hats.
They headed to Sundance Hall, where Hollis loved to two-step and swing his partners into the air.
But not long after dancing to the last song of the night, Hollis was dead.
The bullet that pierced his temple about 1 a.m. April 21 was fired from a constable's gun. That's about the only point on which witnesses agree.
Precinct 4 Constable Louie E. "Lou" Rogers contends that Hollis grabbed the gun and shot himself. Paradeaux and other witnesses say it was the constable who pulled the trigger.
The case has blown a whirlwind of controversy into this San Jacinto County seat, about 65 miles north of Houston, where the monthly arts-and-crafts show on the courthouse square is considered a big event.
On Wednesday, for the second time, District Attorney Scott Rosekrans will present the case to a grand jury.
The grand jurors were briefed for 40 minutes in their initial meeting in May. But this time, Rosekrans has set aside a whole day, and a second if necessary, to get to the bottom of the quagmire.
"It's a difficult case," said Texas Ranger Sgt. Kenneth Hammack, who is assembling evidence. "The medical examiner has not yet determined if it was a suicide or not. It's all still under investigation. We've been hearing different stories from different folks."
To date, the pathologist has determined that Hollis died from the bullet wound to his temple and that he was shot a second time in the left ankle.
Hammack will not discuss whether gunpowder residue was found on the hands of the constable or Hollis, which could indicate whether either had fired a gun recently. And the ranger will not talk about crime-scene tests and witness statements.
Many who were there that night said the evening started as any other at Sundance. The twang of bass and slide guitars filled the 10,000-square-foot hall, reverberating from the walls covered with neon signs and memorabilia.
The dance floor, bathed in twinkling lights, was crowded. Other patrons played pool at a dozen tables at the back.
No alcohol is served from the bar, but those of legal drinking age are welcome to bring their own, said proprietor Roland Smith, who once owned the brewery in Shiner.
"We have people of all ages come, even young children. It's more of a family place," he said. "Which is why I hate that all this has happened. My business dropped off about 80 percent afterwards."
Constable Rogers, 58, was one of four law enforcement officers hired to provide security that night.
"I really don't want to comment except to say it was a suicide," said the constable, who has held elected office for five years.
He referred questions to his attorney, Richard Burroughs, who said he doesn't comment outside a courtroom.
Meanwhile, Hollis' friends remember what happened that night, like the lyrics to his favorite country song by Kenny Chesney:
"We were brave, we were crazy, we were mostly young.
"Young, hey, wishing we were older, wish it wasn't over."
None of them knew that Hollis had an outstanding warrant for his arrest because of two hot checks he had written to Wal-Mart in Walker County. He had pleaded guilty to misdemeanor theft in November and received probation.
But in March, an arrest warrant was issued on a motion to revoke his probation because he had failed to report to his probation officer, records show.
The constable apparently knew of the warrant, said Hollis' friend, Jackie Chesson.
Chesson said Rogers repeatedly warned Hollis during that last night that he would be "taking his ass to jail as soon as he walked out those doors."
The trouble started when Hollis was standing outside the dance hall door talking about the warrant with the constable and another security officer, San Jacinto County Sheriff's Deputy Robert Renfro.
Renfro would not discuss what happened that night. But Dustin Paradeaux, 20, and his brother, Matt, 16, said Hollis unexpectedly bolted for their pickup.
Once inside the truck, Hollis found Dustin's .30-.30 rifle under the seat, the brothers said.
"(Hollis) had the rifle held between his legs, pointing at his head, as he tried to cock it," recalled the older Paradeaux, who grabbed the barrel to point it away from everyone.
Renfro also was wrestling for the rifle when Hollis bit the deputy's finger, the brothers said.
Jeff Benson, a game warden who also was serving as a security guard, said he arrived just as the deputy screamed that Hollis was biting his finger.
The officers yanked Hollis from the truck and had him kneeling on the ground beside the passenger door, said the younger Paradeaux.
His head was pushed against the floorboard. The constable was pointing his gun at Hollis' head, said Paradeaux, who said he was standing to the side of the constable.
He said Hollis "slapped at the pistol a few times" until the officers pinned his arms down.
Then a muffled shot was heard.
Paradeaux said he watched the constable's hand jerk from the recoil as Hollis went limp. A few seconds later, there was a second shot, and Paradeaux saw dirt fly from the ground. The bullet struck Hollis in the ankle.
Hollis' stepbrother, Jesse Hamilton, 27, also saw the incident.
"There was a lot of confusion, but there was no way (Hollis) could have grabbed anybody's gun the way he was pinned down," Hamilton said.
However, the game warden, Benson, said he heard the constable yell: "He's got my gun!" seconds before the first shot was fired.
"Then came a shot. I saw an arm drop down with a pistol in it. But I couldn't tell whose it was. There were so many hands and arms," said Benson, who said he was standing behind the constable.
Benson said he had pushed onlookers, many appearing intoxicated, at least 25 feet back from the truck. He does not believe any were close enough to see who had fired the gun.
He said he believes Hollis may have pulled the trigger, because friends said he had been despondent over the breakup of his three-year marriage. He even thought Hollis might earlier have been trying to kill himself with the rifle.
Hollis' mother, Debbie Hilton, disagreed.
She said her son and his wife had been separated several months before the shooting, and he had signed a waiver that he would not oppose the divorce.
Chesson, a beauty shop owner, described Hollis as "the happiest-go-lucky person that I know."
His estranged wife, Lee Ann, agreed that Hollis had not appeared suicidal since she filed for divorce Feb. 1. She did recall, however, that once, after physically abusing her, he had held a gun to his head to show he would never do it again.
Dustin Paradeaux said Rogers had answered a domestic disturbance call in which Lee Ann Hollis complained that her husband had abused her. Because of that, Paradeaux said, the constable might be biased against Hollis.
He also said Lee Ann often affectionately referred to Rogers as "Uncle Lou."
Hollis' wife said the constable was not related to her, but was a good friend of her mother and grandfather. She said he met Hollis that one time and had no reason for a personal grudge.
A fourth security officer at the scene, Tim Sampson, could not be reached for comment.
The Paradeaux brothers remain certain that, although Hollis made some unwise moves that night, the constable shot him without cause. The older brother noted that Hollis could never have fired the gun a second time "after he barely had a pulse."
But the game warden theorized that the semi-automatic pistol, which didn't have a safety, might have accidentally fired again while Hollis' finger was still on the trigger and the constable was attempting to push the gun away.
Since the shooting, Matt Paradeaux said, he has been to a counselor because of nights when he would wake up screaming.
Dustin Paradeaux said he didn't sleep for seven days and lost 35 pounds.
"I don't like this town anymore. I'm scared to be in it," he said.
To keep Hollis' memory alive, his mother and stepbrother went to the Sundance parking lot late last week.
On the spot where Hollis died, they erected a wooden cross with his named burned into it.
