Asked if that person could have influenced Talovic to carry out the shootings, she said, "I don't really think so, no."

She did not believe anyone had pushed him to carry out the shootings. Nobody had wanted him to do anything wrong, she believes.

Was Talovic thinking that he would become a martyr for his Muslim religion? "I don't think so," she said. He never mentioned he had guns and never seemed violent. "He was actually a happy, nice person."

During that last talk, "he was actually pretty happy," Monika said. Besides his expected happiness the next day, he talked about a sister he dearly loved, who was his best friend. He did not seem angry or filled with concern.

Their conversations were in English, as both spoke the language well.

"He was real happy that he came to the United States, he told me, because it wasn't like over there."

The Talovic family and Monika's family were refugees from Serb aggression during the war in Bosnia, 1992-95, and she believes the young man was deeply affected by the violence.

"After a while he had to take some counseling and get stuff out of his head," she said.

Although the war ended when Talovic was only 7, he recalled large open graves where victims were thrown in and shot. He did not see that happen, she said, but "he saw dead people around them in those holes" while the family was hiding in the forest.

Also, he told her about seeing a horrific murder: He saw a woman with her child, "and there was a soldier just coming up behind her, and, like, shooting her in the head." The soldier threw the child "and he started to shoot it."

While the Talovic family hid in the forest, he told Monika, they lived on wild food, mushrooms, and drank dew from the ground.

Speaking of Talovic's grandfather, she said, "He told me that he was killed in the war," but did not say how. He also lost a brother and a sister.

Ajka Omerovic, an aunt of Sulejman Talovic who lives in Salt Lake City, said the little girl died before the war and the boy died during the war. The boy's death apparently resulted from a lack of medical care caused by the conflict.

Today, the parents — father Suljo and mother Sabira Talovic — live in Salt Lake City with three daughters.

"He remembers when his little brother and sister died from the war and how tragic it was," Monika said. He also recalled "how they didn't have anything to eat, when they were in the forest."

Asked if the boy was afraid at that time, she replied, "Yeah, he was really afraid."

Monika and Sulejman Talovic talked about the war in Bosnia only twice, she said. Most of the time they covered ordinary teen topics, "what we liked, what was our favorite music, colors, whatever."