At first, I thought this was an excellent video to break down because it suggested she escaped out the front door and led him outside, away from her one-year-old daughter, into the driveway. However, after watching her chase him and hold on to him, it seems he’s not really throttling her as he could. If I were investigating this case, I’d dig deep into the suspect’s allegations to figure out what’s what.

He is leading her in the above screenshot. Initially, I thought this was a strong example of a basic truth: sometimes it’s easier to escape quickly than to stand toe-to-toe with someone bigger, faster, and stronger and try to duke it out. If a male is hell-bent on dominating a female, she’s going to get dominated 99% of the time, unless she has a firearm and the will to use it early enough to change the outcome. At fifteen, I fought two young men roughly my age and learned that day that the Tae Kwon Do advanced class that claimed to teach me how to fight two adversaries was pure BS. Unless you’re capable and willing to incapacitate those adversaries immediately, you’re soon going to find yourself in a very bad way. When you’re losing badly, i.e., being punched from both behind and in front at the same time, though, you may still escape to the side and grab a weapon to regain the initiative. In those days, nunchucks were a popular weapon. That was enough, and we all parted ways. That principle of escaping (i.e., think tactical withdrawal to escalate, or fill your hand with a tool to regain the initiative) later confirmed itself for me on a couple of occasions during my law enforcement career, against much bigger and stronger adversaries.
How are we defining winning? For a father or a mother, protecting their child doesn’t necessarily mean surviving. It means protecting the child. If we believe her story, which I’m now questioning, going outside created an imminent problem for him. Screaming and making this public means that if she has any alpha-male neighbors (as opposed to the betas), she may get the immediate assistance she needs. Either way, someone will hear or see the drama unfolding and call the police. The moment she crosses that threshold and makes it public, she starts a clock ticking and completes her mission: protect her one-year-old daughter. In light of her grave responsibility before God to protect her child, she has succeeded in her mission. That also means “bettering her position,” whether she lives or not. This better position isn’t about her; it’s for her child. Why? In law enforcement, we saw it play out over and over: when an unjust killing happens in a public place with potential witnesses, bad guys do not stand around waiting for applause. They suddenly have a long to-do list and very little time. They have to escape (distance is their friend), destroy evidence linking them to the scene, establish an alibi, and figure out where they’re going to lay low while they wait to see if they’re the primary suspect. They are busy, busy, busy for at least the next hour.
The left almost destroyed the word “guardian” for me. It’s madness to suggest that the police must be the guardians of everyone, including the unjust criminal aggressors who are initiating and maintaining imminent deadly threats. I detested that word in the law-enforcement context and preferred only “warrior.” Of course, as a Catholic I still love, respect, and honor my guardian angel, but I had a problem with the term when it was set against the word warrior.
Then I met Kyle Clement, a Catholic rancher, public speaker, and right-hand man to Father Chad Ripperger, at a retreat where we both gave talks. He began unpacking the appropriate uses of the two words and, more importantly, when we might act as a guardian versus a warrior. A police officer with a family is a warrior at work and a guardian off duty. The Guardian par excellence was St. Joseph, leading his family away from Herod’s slaughter of the innocents and off to Egypt. The Warrior par excellence was, is, and always will be Jesus, who was both Warrior and Guardian. As an aside: police are only guardians to bad guys once those bad guys have fully withdrawn any imminent threat of great bodily harm or death toward an innocent. Before that, police and bad guys are, in a sense, at war, and the only logical response to an unjust, imminent, deadly threat is to STOP IT.
The guardian of a family can be forced in an instant to become a warrior. An active-shooter event at a public venue where they have a line of sight on the shooter is one example. Even if their family is with them, this is not about taking material goods; the active shooter’s goal is stacking bodies, so the guardian transitions immediately to warrior until the shooter is stopped, then back to guardian. If they see a clean way to get their family out and have no line of sight, guardian remains the priority. Suppose they want to return after the family is safe and stop the shooter; good on them. In other words, prudence is required.
That brings us to the ordo amoris—or ordo caritatis, the order of charity. JD Vance brought this up in early 2025: “You love your family, and then you love your neighbor, and then you love your community, and then you love your fellow citizens in your own country. And then after that, you can focus and prioritize the rest of the world.” Well said. If I have to choose between my family’s safety and my neighbor’s safety, my family wins every time. Why? Because for a Catholic who strives to follow what the Holy Roman Catholic Church has always taught, there is a right ordering to love: self-sacrificing, agape Christian love. Not a sentiment or a warm, fuzzy feeling. Love is a decision. Love is strong. Love is willing to go to a Cross, suffer, and die for the sake of the beloved. What are we willing to do? There is a right order to how we prioritize those decisions. That’s just me; you do you.


