Police in Houston, Texas have identified the shooter who opened fire at Joel Osteen’s Lakewood Church on Sunday as Genesse Ivonne Moreno, an immigrant from El Salvador with a lengthy criminaI history.
She previously used the name Jeffrey Escalante Moreno, prompting some reports that she identified as a transgender individuaI. Law enforcement officials did not refer to her as such during a press conference on Monday, however.
Two people were hit by the gunman — a 57-year-old man and a seven-year-old boy who accompanied the shooter — after she opened fire just after 2 p.m. on Sunday. Off-duty police officers who were present at the scene engaged the shooter and returned fire.
She was ultimately pronounced de ad at the scene.
The child — who has been identified as Moreno’s son — is not expected to survive, though he remains in criticaI condition at an area hospital, a Montgomery County District Attorney’s Office spokesperson told the Houston Chronicle.
According to investigators, Hassig arrived at the church accompanied by the child just before Spanish mass was set to begin. She was dressed in a bIack trench coat and was armed with a semiautomatic rifIe, which she pointed at officers before she was shot and kiIIed.
Christopher Hassig, commander of Houston Police Department Homicide Division, identified Moreno as female during the press conference and confirmed that she has a history of using both male and female aliases.
She utilized both male and femaIe names, but through all of our investigation through this point, talking with individuaIs, interview, documents, Houston Police Department reports, she has been identified this entire time as female. She, her, he said.
My Cousin Brags about Her ‘Achievements’ Despite Owing Me $5,000 – I Thought About Taking Action, but Karma Took Care of It for Me
When my cousin crashed our rental car, leaving me with a $5,000 bill, I spent months trying to get her to pay me back. Just as I gave up, I saw her flaunting her ‘success’ on social media and discovered I wasn’t the only one she owed. Karma caught up to her, and I got a front-row seat!
It’s been a year since that disastrous West Coast holiday, and I still feel the sting of that $5,000 debt. My cousin Debra, who’s supposed to be an accountant, racked up a huge damage charge on our rental car and then had the audacity to act like it wasn’t her problem.
It was under my name, so guess who got stuck with the bill? That’s right, me. Lisa, the ever-reliable project manager from Boston. I swear, some days I think my middle name should be “Doormat.”
I remember that holiday like it was yesterday. Seven of us cousins decided to get together for some “family bonding” out on the West Coast.
Debra was there, of course, with her charismatic charm and reckless attitude. One evening, she decided it would be a fantastic idea to drive the rental car down a narrow, winding coastal road at night.
The air was crisp, the moonlight casting eerie shadows as she sped along the road, ignoring my pleas to slow down.
“Come on, Lisa, live a little!” Debra laughed, her voice filled with reckless glee.
She cranked up the music and took another swig from her bottle. I clutched the seat, my knuckles white.
“Debra, please, you’re going too fast!” I yelled, my heart pounding.
She just laughed harder, taking a sharp turn way too quickly. My heart stopped as the car skidded toward the edge, tires screeching.
I thought we were all going to die that night, but the guardrail saved us. The impact when we slammed into it was jarring, leaving us all stunned and the car a complete wreck.
The holiday mood? Completely ruined.
When the rental company slapped a $5,000 damage charge on the car, Debra just shrugged.
“We’re family,” she said with a flippant wave of her hand. “We should all pitch in.”
The other cousins mumbled vague agreements.
“Maybe we can split it evenly,” suggested Jimmy, the peacemaker of the group.
“Split it? Are you kidding? I wasn’t even in the car,” retorted Martha, crossing her arms.
“I can’t afford that right now,” mumbled Jake, avoiding eye contact.
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