For Nick Kirk, deputy shot in Ronnie Lee Gardner's escape attempt, attack 'took his life away'

KEARNS — April 2, 1985, was a typical day for VelDean Kirk, who was busy with secretarial duties on the ninth floor of the Salt Lake County Sheriff's Office.

People were talking. Phones were ringing. Business as usual.

All that changed when commotion broke out in the courtyard below, which faced the Metropolitan Hall of Justice, and a chorus of sirens began screeching.

She and a co-worker peered out the window, struggling to obey a lock-down command for their building.

"There were a jillion ambulances and police cars," Kirk said. "We couldn't stand it anymore, so we walked down."

In the courtyard, Kirk heard someone had been shot. Salt Lake County Sheriff N.D. "Pete" Hayward and his chief deputy spotted her standing there. Both men froze, spoke hastily to each other, turned to detective Dick Judd and Judd began walking.

"He came toward me, and then I knew it was Nick," Kirk said.

George "Nick" Kirk, her husband of 36 years and father of their five children, had been shot by prisoner Ronnie Lee Gardner during an escape attempt.

Gardner's girlfriend had smuggled a gun to him in the courthouse. He shot and killed defense attorney Michael Burdell, then bolted out despite being shackled.

Gardner ran into Kirk, who was hurrying down the stairs ready to help and especially fearful for Judge James Sawaya, who was just arriving at work.

Gardner's bullet ripped through Kirk's stomach, intestines, bowels, hip and leg.

Nick Kirk survived the shooting and lived for nearly 11 more years. By not dying, however, in many ways, he became the forgotten victim.

But to hear his wife tell it, nothing was the same after that day.

"He was in constant pain," VelDean Kirk said. "He just never felt good. We didn't go fishing anymore because he couldn't get the boat in and out. He didn't bowl — he tried to, but he couldn't do it as well as he could before."

Kirk tried golfing, but could not walk the course and had trouble playing even with a golf cart. Over time, that faded.

Coaching his grandchildren's sports wore him out, so he stopped.

He also walked with a limp, which became an enormous embarrassment.