Arizona immigration law tints dispute over slaying

PHOENIX —

Had Arizona's governor not just signed the toughest law against illegal immigrants in the nation, the slaying of Juan Varela probably would have been written off as just a tragic neighborhood dispute.

The 44-year-old U.S. citizen was watering chili plants in his front yard when a neighbor confronted him and shot him to death, according to police.

Varela's brother, Antonio, told police the neighbor, Gary Kelley, who is white, called Juan Varela a "wetback" who had to "go back to Mexico" now that Gov. Jan Brewer had signed Senate Bill 1070. The family campaigned to publicize the death, culminating with the county prosecutor's decision last month to add a hate-crime allegation to the second-degree-murder charges filed against Kelley.

But Kelley's Latino tenant and neighbors say he displayed no racial animus and had criticized the new law as unfair. Most immigrant-rights activists have shied away from the case, skeptical the killing was racially motivated.

To some Arizonans, it's an illustration of how recent incidents in the state are interpreted through the prism of the new law.

"They have a two-for-one special at McDonald's — it's because of SB 1070," said an exasperated Tommy Thompson, a Phoenix police spokesman who downplayed racial overtones to Varela's killing. "When this happened, everyone immediately wanted to make this about 1070."

Psychological effect

Tensions are rising in the state as the clock ticks down to Thursday, the day the law is to take effect.

Some activists sometimes compare Arizona to the Jim Crow-era South or Nazi Germany, and other groups privately worry about civil unrest. Meanwhile, Brewer has contended most illegal immigrants entering her state are drug smugglers. (Civil-rights groups and the Obama administration have asked a federal judge to halt SB 1070.)

Police departments are trying to figure out what the complex measure requires their officers to do. Key provisions mandate police check the immigration status of people they lawfully stop and suspect are in the country illegally. The law also makes it a state crime to lack immigration documents.

Some police departments say little may change Thursday because many officers already check the status of people they think are committing crimes.

Instead, the biggest effect of the law may be psychological. It marks the enactment of a new state policy, known as attrition through enforcement, to push illegal immigrants out of Arizona by making clear they're not wanted. And it has convinced some Latino citizens, such as the Varelas, that they also are under attack.

Little League coach

Juan Varela's parents moved from Texas to south Phoenix in 1952, when cornfields still lay near their small house. They reared 14 children who felt comfortable in the mostly white town.

"I felt like I was just part of society," said Susie Mendoza, one of Juan Varela's sisters. She didn't even teach her children Spanish, which was spoken regularly at home in her childhood.

Juan Varela, who coached a diverse Little League baseball team, was deeply religious and had a troubled past. He was convicted of aggravated assault in 2008 and had spent years on disability. Less than two weeks after Brewer signed SB 1070, he and Antonio Varela, who lived next door, discussed a documentary they had seen about Emmett Till, a Mississippi black teenager who was killed after reportedly whistling at a white woman in 1955. They saw new relevance in the tragic tale.

"I said, 'Man, if we don't watch ourselves, things are going to be that bad here,' " Antonio Varela recalled. "He said, 'Let's pray on that.' It was constant. Every time you turned to a (television) channel, it was SB 1070."

Days later, on May 6, Antonio drove his mother, who lives with Juan, to the local Kmart. As he pulled into the driveway to drop her off, he saw Kelley walking toward his brother in his front yard.

According to police, Antonio said he heard Kelley yell, "Go back to Mexico!" and warn Juan he was going to die if he didn't leave. Juan confronted Kelley on the sidewalk. He kicked at Kelley but missed, Antonio said. Kelley pulled a pistol from his waistband and shot Juan, police say.

In an interview, Antonio said Kelley tried to shoot him, too, but the gun misfired. Kelley ran to his house and emerged only when police arrived. He was holding a can of beer, which he poured over his head. According to police, Kelley said Juan Varela had kicked him in the groin and he was defending himself.

According to police, Kelley, 50, told officers: "I love all people — white, black or Hispanic, and I am not racist in any way."

Two city councilmen later came to the neighborhood, along with police spokesman Thompson, saying the killing did not seem racially motivated. They were relying on statements from people such as Ana Gutierrez, who said Kelley used to chat with her parents and his neighbors, and spent Thanksgiving at their house. She said Kelley told her father days before the shooting that he opposed SB 1070.

"It's just weird to hear them say he's racist," Gutierrez said.

Small comfort

Lydia Guzman, a prominent local immigrants-rights activist, said she and others organizing protests against SB 1070 were wary of the case. "This guy did not get shot because he was Mexican," Guzman said. "We are being extra cautious" about making such claims, she added.

The Varela family, baffled that racial elements of the incident have been downplayed, held news conferences demanding hate-crime charges. They said the Phoenix police chief had asked them to stay quiet — an assertion that is completely inaccurate, according to the department.

In June, family members met with Maricopa County Attorney Richard Romley, who added the hate-crime allegation against Kelley. Romley said at a news conference that the extra allegation, which can enhance penalties against Kelley, was added because of witness statements. A spokesman for Romley said he could not elaborate.

The Varela family says the hate-crime allegation is a small comfort, but the public needs to know the threat the new law has created.

"We want the governor to understand that what she's doing is causing crimes to take place," Mendoza said.

Two doors down from the Varela home, Kelley's house still is partly occupied. Fernando Perez, a construction worker, has rented half of the house from Kelley for the past year. He said he never heard his landlord make biased remarks. He is skeptical the immigration law had anything to do with Varela's death, pinning the blame instead on what he believes was a simple dispute.

"Don't blame the law," he said, "if your own actions are to blame."