Losing a heroic soul

Coral Wilson

On Sunday morning, as Albertsons co-workers and customers came under

attack by a co-worker swinging a samurai sword, John Nutting of

Huntington Beach lost his life the way he lived it -- helping others.

“All of us, and everyone we talk to, said he must have been

helping someone,” Nutting’s granddaughter Lindie Graves said. “He

must have jumped to help someone. Because that’s who he was.”

Shock resounded among family members, neighbors, Albertsons

employees and even strangers as they heard of the tragedy. The family

tried to make sense of the information as it came in from a stream of

sympathetic neighbors, phone calls and first-hand accounts of how

Joseph Parker, a bagger at the Irvine Albertsons store, stormed

through the supermarket aisles swinging a 3-foot samurai sword,

slashing Judith Fleming’s neck and stabbing Nutting in the chest

before being shot and killed by police.

Police say the $430 sword had been purchased at a martial arts

store on June 26, only three days before the incident, but there was

no evidence to suggest that Parker was particularly skilled with the

sword.”I think an amateur could take a sword of that type and cause a

great deal of damage,” Irvine Police Lt. Jeff Love said.

Police believe Nutting and Fleming were already dead by 9:36 a.m.

when the first series of panic-stricken phone calls to the police

were made, Love said. Events progressed rapidly with police arriving

at the scene by 9:39 a.m. and Parker was shot by 9:44 a.m., Love

said. Parker appears to have had a history of mental illness, he

added.

Witnesses told the family that Nutting could have easily run away

and escaped, but, after more than 40 years with the company, turning

his back didn’t come naturally to the 59-year-old grocery receiver

and former store director who was on the verge of retirement.

With his hands raised, Nutting approached Parker calmly, saying

his name and repeating, “Put it down, put it down,” his granddaughter

was told by witnesses.

Parker’s reaction in that instant stole avaluable member of

society, neighbor Ralph Hoekstra said. Nutting left behind his wife

Sharon, five children, four grandchildren, nine tortoises, a garage

full of uncompleted projects and a whole neighborhood that would miss

him desperately, Hoekstra said.

“If you needed help or anything, he was the one who would be

there,” neighbor Jane Hoekstra said. “He’s the kind of neighbor

everyone would want to have.”

Nutting would come by the Hoekstra’s house with a roast, a case of

beer, jars of screws, a gift certificate for a restaurant and a ready

excuse -- he was going to throw it away, it would go bad, or he got

it at a garage sale for a buck. It was sometimes hard to tell when

the practical joker was telling the truth, the Hoekstras said.

“The way you always knew that he was full of crap is he would

flare his nostrils,” daughter Sheri Palmer said.

He was easygoing, good natured and avoided arguments, but he was

protective. And when a fight was called for, he was ready.

Granddaughters Graves, 22, and Jenea Gudvangen, 19, remembered times

when Nutting had returned home with blood on his shirt after tackling

a shoplifter who tried to smuggle out a piece of meat, they said.

Neighbor Roberta Axe said before she ever really knew Nutting, he

had saved her life. When a large dog charged and almost attacked her

when she was pregnant, Nutting immediately sprayed the dog with water

and scared it away, she said.

“That dog would have taken me apart,” she said.

Brave, but not fearless, Palmer said her father had a phobia -- of

spiders.

He loved BB guns, bargains, brandy, transistor radios,

memorabilia, Elvis and Marilyn Monroe. He was a collector, Palmer

said. And during the 30 years he lived in his Huntington Beach home,

the pile in his garage grew.

And it was from his garage that the handyman would always look up

with a wave and a smile to greet anyone walking by, Ralph Hoekstra

said.

“That’s John,” Palmer said, as her husband lifted the garage door,

revealing a mountain of skateboards, bicycles, tools, spray cans,

paint buckets, straw hats, boxes and remote control cars.

Buried and just barely visible were the headlights of a rusty gray

1946 Chevy. That was to be his big project upon retirement, a

refurbishing project that would involve all of his grandchildren, his

family said.

It may have been junk in some eyes, but not to Nutting, who

carried the treasure map in his head. He knew exactly where

everything was, they said.

“Now that he is gone, no one can make sense of it all,” Graves

said.

While neighbors and friends gathered at the Nutting residence to

offer food, drink and condolences, another small crowd gathered

outside the Albertsons market in Irvine to mourn the loss of Nutting

and Fleming.

In between coke cans and bags of potato chips, a memorial of

flowers, candles, cards and balloons grew by the hour. Passersby

stopped, bowed their heads in silence, and shook their heads before

walking away. Some entered the market and returned with yet another

bouquet to add to the pile.

Employees continued working in a distant daze, visiting the

memorial on their breaks.

“You helped change my life in so many ways,” an employee wrote to

John on a cardboard sign. “Thanks for making me laugh and for not

only being a great boss but a great man.”

Between roses, carnations, potted plants and candle wax were

written expressions of love and grief.

“I won’t forget your smile, sparkly eyes, that sharp wit that made

everyone laugh,” another person wrote.

The somber mood was reflected at another Albertsons in Newport

Beach where Nutting worked five days a week.

“The day before, I was talking to him, and the next day, he’s

gone. It’s crazy,” clerk George Salinas said. “That was the first day

I have never smiled.”

* CORAL WILSON is a news assistant. Reach her at (714) 965-7177.