Human Wreckage True Crime

Sparks Middle School Shooting

• Thomas W

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You're listening to Human Wreckage, a podcast about tragedy, trauma, and the long road back. We tell the stories left behind when the unthinkable happens. Stories of broken systems, broken lives, and sometimes the strength to rebuild. Today, we're going back to a quiet Monday morning, October 21, 2013, in Sparks, Nevada. The sun had just risen over the Washu County Mountains. Students were filing off buses, joking with friends, heading toward class. It was the start of another school week normal routine. But at 7 15, everything changed. A twelve year old boy, just a seventh grader, pulled a semi-automatic handgun from his backpack on the blacktop of Sparks Middle School. What followed lasted less than three minutes. In that time, two students were injured, a heroic teacher lost his life, and the shooter a child turned the gun on himself. The nation barely paused. Just a few months after the Navy Yard shooting in DC and less than a year after Sandy Hook, this tragedy was quickly swept into the ever-growing list of American school shootings, a headline, a blip, another name, another town. But for the families at Sparks, the trauma never ended. And for those who look deeper, the questions raised by this incident remain haunting and unanswered. Why did a twelve year old bring a gun to school? Where did he get it? What drove him to open fire on classmates? And why did no one see it coming? And most urgently, what could have been done to stop it? In this episode of Human Wreckage, we'll explore the events of that day minute by minute and the wreckage left in its wake. We'll hear from students who were on the playground trapped in fear, from parents who had to wait hours for news, from community members who still carry scars. We'll also dig into the background of the shooter, a quiet, bullied kid whose pain went unnoticed until it was too late. We'll explore how access to firearms, lapses in school safety, and the silence surrounding adolescent mental health all converged into one horrific morning. And we'll ask, has anything changed? Because when the headlines fade, when the camera crews leave, what remains is the human cost of wreckage and the hope that maybe by understanding it, we can prevent the next one. This is human wreckage. I'm Thomas, and this is the story of the Sparks Middle School shooting. His friend said that he loved nothing more than telling jokes, but he could never quite get to the punchline before busting out laughing. He worked in his family's restaurant, and with his hard-earned money, he would purchase candy and ice cream for him and his friends. Less than 10 minutes after Reyes' mother dropped him off at Sparks Middle School on the 21st of October 2013, Ray's and a well-loved math teacher, Michael Lansbury, would be dead from gunshot wounds. That morning, Rayze had armed himself with his parents' Ruger pistol and two magazines of ammunition. Upon entering the basketball courts of Sparks Middle School, Rayze, who was said by witnesses to be crying, opened fire with a semi-automatic handgun. First, he shot twelve-year-old KJ Kersey in the shoulder. Michael Lansbury rushed over and desperately tried to talk Ray's into handing over the weapon, giving other students a chance to flee. Instead, Ray's pointed the weapon at Lansbury and shot him dead. Rayze then turned the gun on twelve-year-old Mason Davis, who ran to Lansbury's assistance and shot him in the stomach. Afterwards, Ray shot himself in the head. Both Kersey and Davis survived their injuries. The investigation into the shooting painted a grim picture of bullying and depression. Ray's was troubled by depression and tormented by a school life where he was mocked, teased, and mistreated. Just days before the shooting, Ray's father took him to a psychotherapist who prescribed him Prozac after he explained that he was being bullied at school. Ray's told the psychotherapist that classmates mercilessly mocked him. He said that they called him gay and accused him of wetting his pants. Police later announced that one of the students who had been shot had teased Ray's about not having muscles during a physical education class and may have had a part in pouring water on him when he was accused of wetting himself. Jose had wrestled with speech problems since a young boy, and a number of students often called Jose stupid and retarded because of this. When he was in the hallways, students would poke him and laugh and even steal his lunch money. Not to be rude, but he was like a nobody, said Axel Lopez, one of Rey's classmates. Despite the evident mistreatment of Rey's, which had been corroborated by numerous other students, Sparks Police Chief Brian Allen said that it didn't rise to the level to merit bullying charges. Following the shooting, Lansbury was remembered in a memorial service for his character and selfless acts in the military and on the basketball court that morning. The former Marine was described as a devoted father, husband, and teacher who made the ultimate sacrifice in a bid to save his students. This tragedy is one we'll all struggle to understand, said the governor. What is conclusive is his selfless acts to give his life so others might live. By his actions, he has inspired us all to do all we can for our fellow man. Pedro Martinez, superintendent of the Washoe County School District, said that Lansbury could have taken his pick of any school to work at, but that he chose one of the Reno area's highest poverty middle schools because he felt as though those children needed him the most. Lanbury's friends spoke about his passion for Batman, Star Wars, and video games, adding that he humbled himself to children and they flocked to him for it. He received full military honors, including a 21-gun salute. In the wake of the shooting, it was discovered that Jose had left behind two suicide notes. In one address to teachers and students, Jose expressed his anger over his belief that he was being embarrassed and mistreated by his fellow classmates. He wrote that he had been called gay, lazy, stupid, an idiot, and that money has been stolen from him. Well that all ends. Today I will get revenge on the students and teachers for ruining my life, he wrote. He closed the note with a drawing of a tombstone which read, Sparks Middle School 1965-2013. The second note was addressed to his parents. In those notes he wrote that the shooting was not because of the shooting games, the bullying, or other stuff, but because some bad things in the past happened to me. He elaborated, and now I'm just a monster. If you hate me and my family doesn't love me, it's okay. I know that I'm just an idiot. But I love you and I wish the past would be good and better someday. Following the shooting, Jose's parents said that the gun had been kept in a closet above the fridge, and that they didn't realize Jose had known about the gun. Initially, police said that his parents could be charged if they knowingly made the gun available to him. However, Sparks Police Chief Brian Allen later announced that they wouldn't be pursuing criminal charges. Jose and Liliana Reyes donated$14,000 to an anti bullying program in a partnership with the school district. They said that they wanted to make Washu County schools safer. We don't want anyone to go through what we went through, said Jose Reyes SR, to the Reno Gazette Journal. It's been over a decade since the shooting at Sparks Middle School. The students who were there that morning have grown up. Some have spoken out, others prefer silence, but none of them forget. Michael Lansbury, the teacher who stepped in front of a bullet to protect his students, is remembered as a hero not just for how he died, but for how he lived. A marine, a mentor, and someone who believed in the promise of every child, even the one struggling. The boy who brought the gun to school will never grow up. His name rarely gets mentioned not out of malice, but out of heartbreak. His story isn't one of evil, it's one of pain, of warning signs missed, of a system that didn't know how to listen. We want to believe these stories are rare, that they're unthinkable, but they keep happening in hallways and classrooms across the country, and each time we ask the same questions. Each time we hope it's the last. But hope is not a strategy, and silence is not safe. If there's anything to take from sparks, it's this. The signs were there. The gaps were real, and the damage to lives, to families, to futures is immeasurable. Thank you for joining us for this episode of Human Wreckage. If this story affected you, or if you or someone you know is struggling, please check the resources in the show notes. Help is out there, and it's never too early to ask. Until next time, take care of each other. Take care of yourselves. And remember behind every headline, there are lives forever changed.