FRIENDS REMEMBER VEST — ‘HE WASN’T LIKE THAT’
Man shot after reportedly threatening peoplewith a knife lived a life jarred by loss of family and home
To his friends and many who knew him, Stephen Vest could be called on for almost anything.
When Michael Baker’s car broke down, it was Vest who dropped what he was doing and helped Baker, even though the two hadn’t connected in months.
After Jared Lindstromlost his driver’s license, and resorted to riding his bike around town, Vest fixed up his own bike and often joined him.
“He was just a good friend,” Lindstromsaid. “He was always the person I’d call and be like, ‘Hey, can I talk and just hang out for a minute?’ And he’d be like, ‘Sure, I’m not doing anything.’ He wasn’t a closed off person, he was always open.”
Marissa Cole, whose family became close to Vest over the years as neighbors in Paradise, called Vest a “sensitive soul.”
“He was a really sweet guy,” Cole said. “Hewas quiet and introverted but very loving and caring.”
This is the Stephen Vest they knew. It’s whymany are having trouble reconciling with the events on the night of Oct. 14, ending with Chico Police Department officers shooting and killing him outside of a Petco store in Chico.
Night of the incident
The first 9-1-1 calls came in around 7:30 p.m. from Community Park, where people described aman, later determined to be Vest, wearing dark cloth
ing and threatening parkgoers with a knife. After a confrontation with a private security guard, Vest continued toward the intersection of Dr. Martin Luther King Jr. Parkway and East 20th Street, walking into traffic and approaching cars.
His path led to the corner of the intersection near the Petco store. Butte County District Attorney Mike Ramsey said Vest approached a truck driver and store employee andchasedthem through the loading dock into the store, knife in hand. As police officers arrived and moved into the parking lot, Vest turned to his right and began walking toward them.
They told Vest to stop and drop the knife, before officer Will Page deployed his taser, which had little effect on Vest,
according to Ramsey. As Vest moved closer to police, Sergeant Nick Bauer and officer Tyler Johnson shot and killed him. The two shooting officers were placed on administrative leave pending the investigation, which is being led by Ramsey and other law enforcement officials in Butte County.
Friends saidVest hadhis share of troubles — a history of mental illness, family hardships and drug use — that were exacerbated when he lost his home in the Camp Fire. But they didn’t know him to be violent, which is why some believe Vest was experiencing amental health episode.
“I don’t think there was anything in (Stephen) that wanted to hurt anyone,” said Alyson Hubbard, a longtime friend of
Vest's. “And whatever happened in the end, whether it was drugs or a mental breakdown or whatever, his whole life, he was the kind of guy that whenever he got angry, he would go sit quietly by himself. He didn't lash out and get mad. He wasn't like that.”
Friends and family
In Paradise, many of Vest's friends affectionately called him“Stevo,” likening him to the stunt performer and TV personality by the same name.
“He was always doing something stupid, something funny, something just kind of out there,” Baker said. “Hewas just that kind of person — let's see what happens if I do this. And yeah, sometimes it caused trouble, sometimes it would be funny and sometimes it would be, ‘ What are you doing, dude?'”
Their core group often consisted of Vest, Baker, Jared and Matt Lindstrom, Hubbard and Mitchel Murphy, but the size would often grow or shrink depending on the day. They goofed around Paradise and spent lots of time outdoors going on hikes and backpacking trips.
“We would do everything outside,” Hubbard said. “Pretty much any time we could all spend outside, I think, is when we were the happiest.”
Baker recalled one backpacking trip to Big Bear Lake in the Trinity Alps when Vest had grown so tired from the trek that he retired to his tent and didn't emerge until many hours later.
“I think he slept for like 12 hours, and we started him calling him ‘ The dude in the tent,'” Baker said. “And that nickname ran forever. It was one of our little backpacking jokes.”
Much of their time was spent around nature, though Vest also had an interest in mechanical hobbies, like working on cars and bicycles, hosting friends at his house to hang out and play cards.
Vest didn't have much in the way of family, at least not in his teenage and adult life. His father, William “Bill” Vest died in late 2002 when Stephen was 12 years old. According to an obituary published in The Union, his dad worked as deputy coroner for the Butte County Sheriff's Office before moving to Nevada County.
Stephen lived with his grandfather, William Vest, in Paradise, taking care of him until he died in 2016 at the age of 89. Friends recalled an extended family member or two, who were in and out of jail, occasionally staying at his house, but that was all.
“He had the least amount of family support out of almost anybody that I've personally known, especially after his grandfather died,” Baker said.
On the streets
In November 2018, the Camp Fire left Vest homeless overnight without a place to go. He didn't have family to fall back on, and many of his friends in Paradise were dealing with their own challenges in the aftermath of the fire.
Baker and his family had evacuated to the Silver Dollar Fairgrounds in Chico and were staying in a trailer. Vest was staying in the dorms at the fairgrounds. The two had lost track, Baker said, but they reunited over a beer and hung out by Baker's trailer.
“He was having a hard time, but he was also looking the best I'd seen him in a couple years,” Baker said. “He'd gained some weight back and he was looking a little less pale. … He was looking really good, even my wife noticed how good he was looking at the time, and we were thinking things were going to pick up.”
Still, Jared Lindstrom said they were worried that he could “fall through the cracks” without any real support system. He saw Vest a couple of months after the fire and recognized something was off with his friend. Lindstrom said Vest was waving at things that weren't there, talking to himself and laughing to himself. When Lindstrom suggested he was having an episode, Vest laughed it off.
“That told me that he's struggling right now,” Lindstrom said.
A year later, during the winter months of 2019 into 2020, Vest, still homeless, sought refuge at SafeSpace Chico, a low-barrier emergency shelter that operates during the coldest months of the year. Siana Sonoquie, shelter operations manager, said Vest stayed there for most of the 12 weeks they were open as he continued to get help and seek out services.
“Stephen was always super gentle, really kind, very quiet, kind of kept to himself and polite,” Sonoquie said. “He was struggling with mental illness and he was often trying to get help and hitting barriers. Not having a phone, not being able tomake appointments without transportation, those types of things. But even when he was frustrated, he was always very calm and kind.”
Sonoquie said Vest was struggling with the bureaucracy around getting help in the county — meetingwith a clinician, getting medication — all while not having stable housing, income, or food sources. Sonoquie said this is part of the challenge in Chico and Butte County for addressing homelessness andmental illness.
“The city of Chico has kind of siloed themselves into only addressing mental illness in an enforcement capacity when it comes to police,” Sonoquie said. “What we see is this very broken system of people that are trying to get services from the county, … but because those services aren't accessible for themin a way that's effective, their condition worsens.”
As the shelter closed in February, Vest moved back to the streets. On March 6, he was arrested after police said he assaulted a woman close to the same area on East 20th Street. While attempting to apprehend Vest, police said he was taken to the ground and bit an officer in the leg.
He was on probation for the arrest at the time he was shot and killed.
“Everybody has their own opinions on what's going on with the police,” Hubbard said. “For me, I've been a firefighter for six years and I have a lot of good friends who are police officers. I see it from their side too. It's just hard because you don't think it will happen to someone you know. Whether theywere in the right or in the wrong, in the end one of our friends died, and that's hard.”
About a week before the shooting, Jared Lindstrom said Vest messaged him via Facebook and heard Vest had recently been released from jail. Vest told him he had been staying in shelters and was actively looking for jobs.
“He sounded like he had a plan,” Lindstromsaid.
Remembering Vest
On Saturday, a group will reunite at Bille Park in Paradise to hostamemorial for Vest, play some of his favorite music and have a potluck. Afterward, they plan to hike on a trail they used to frequent with Vest leading to a look- out point and a dwelling cave.
They still want to get to the bottom of what happened, and await the results of the autopsy and toxicology reports— to be released in the coming weeks— and the body-worn camera footage, which Ramsey saidwill be made public at the conclusion of the investigation.
“There has to be something that could explain his behavior,” Lindstrom said. “He's not like that, at all.”
Vest ' s friends have pushed back against the initial local media and law enforcement reports that only portray him as a criminal. They hope he will be remembered beyond what happened in the last moments of his life.
“Stevo wasn't a druggie, he was just a person who needed help,” Baker said. “Hewas a person, who, even though he needed help, if you asked him he would still help you. Even if it got him nothing, even it hurt him, Stevo was there. He was always there.”