Shiloh’s name lives on in wake of tragic shooting death

Surrounded by family and friends inside the busy Pacific Community Center, Melissa Monroe sat quietly, clutching a precious month-old girl.

“She’s my first grandchild,” Monroe said proudly. “Isn’t she something?”

The baby’s name was Shiloh.

Such a name brings considerable joy – and unavoidable pain – to this Pacific family. Shiloh also was the name of Monroe’s 21-year-old son, slain a year ago inside the same rec room where they sat Monday night for a memorial to honor him.

The one-year anniversary of Shiloh’s tragic death included fundraising basketball games – his passionate sport of choice – and a raffle, with the proceeds going to replace the rec room.

Shiloh Bleau Drott was shot through a window of the center’s east room where he was passing the evening with youth group reading Bibles, playing games and eating pizza on Nov. 14, 2008.

The shooting death on that Friday night was a senseless act – a body blow to a close-knit community.

Friends and witnesses say Shiloh wasn’t the target. But investigators say it’s unclear if Shiloh had been involved in an earlier “mean mugging” staredown at a convenience store across from the center that might have precipitated the shooting. It is equally unclear if Shiloh or someone else provoked the shooter with an obscene gesture while inside the center.

Yet investigators say an enraged 22-year-old man, Sopheatheara Kim, followed two men to the center. Kim walked up to the window and sprayed it with at least eight rounds from a 9mm handgun, investigators say. One shot struck Shiloh as he tried to push others down and out of the line of fire.

“That’s just who he was,” said one witness. “He was always looking out for others.”

Monroe added: “Nobody wants to lose their kid, but thank God nobody else was hurt.”

Emergency personnel tried to revive Shiloh, but he was gone.

Kim has since pleaded not guilty to first-degree murder in Shiloh’s killing. He remains in custody at the Regional Justice Center in Kent, awaiting trial Jan. 11.

Two Pacific men, Chatri Lime Thip, 20, and Salomon Nora Phe, 20, have pleaded guilty to rendering criminal assistance in the first degree. Thip hid Kim’s handgun, and Phe transported Kim in his Jeep after the shooting, according to charging papers.

Thip and Phe, who are out of jail awaiting sentencing Dec. 4, could receive sentences of 6-12 months in jail.

Questions persist, the grief lingers, the loss remains.

“There’s never really any closure for me,” said Monroe, a Boeing machinist. “I’m just trying to find a new normal.”

So too does does Shiloh’s father Roy Drott, who passes the rec center every day on his way to work as a manager of a body shop.

“I suppose some day there will be closure, but right now it’s hard,” said Drott, who shared his love for cars with Shiloh. “It doesn’t matter what the verdict will be, there won’t be any closure.”

For now, there is time for memories and tears. A large crowd assembled Monday to pay tribute to a fun-loving kid.

As Monroe explains, Shiloh was not a fighter, but someone who genuinely helped others. She fondly recalls a time when the railroad crossing gate malfunctioned at the tracks on 3rd Avenue. To help motorists on their way, Shiloh and his friends raised the gate repeatedly for hours.

“When he came home, he could hardly raise his sore arms,” she said.

Shiloh was a prankster, occasionally rowdy, but a good-natured kid who was universally loved in the community. He was a big brother, a mentor, someone who loved basketball and coached youngsters. He revered Dallas Mavericks superstar Dirk Nowitzki and cheered for the underdog. He loved barbecuing brats and fussing with fireworks. He also enjoyed his friends, classic autos, high-performance cars, shoes and music.

“We always complemented each other really well,” said his brother, Chris. “I played guitar, he played the drums.”

Shiloh, a violinist for nine years, and his family of musicians played in the church orchestra.

“I miss his funny faces and jokes,” said his sister, Angel. “He was never really mad or sad. He was always a happy person. He was a teddy bear.”

Shiloh, an Auburn Riverside High School graduate, had moved back to the city he grew up in to live with his mother. He had plans to attend a technical college, perhaps begin a career in auto mechanics.

But that all ended on a November night.

“Many things have happened in a year,” Monroe said. “Some good things and sad things. Sad because Shiloh has not been here.”

Still, his name will be remembered. The rec room, when completed, will be called the Bleau Room.

“What would really be great is getting this room rebuilt,” Monroe said, “and seeing all these kids in here.”