Redmond man was taking his life back. Then came the drive-by shooting.

Published 5:15 am Saturday, July 22, 2023

It was clear to those who knew Esaui “Sy” Mutchler that he was putting his troubled past behind him.

He was incarcerated several times but completed probation. He was applying for jobs. He obtained his learner’s permit and was proud to be making payments toward a car. More and more, he called his brother to chat and gardened with his mother, who lives alone in Madras and is terminally ill, diagnosed last year with the nervous system disease ALS, or Lou Gehrig’s disease.

Then came the drive-by shooting. Mutchler was an imposing, tattooed Athabascan from Wasilla, Alaska, but here he was in a hospital bed as family members decided they had to take him off life support.

“It’s the hardest thing I’ve ever gone through,” said his brother, Marc Gibbs, who works in industrial construction in Alaska.

Mutchler, a 42-year-old father of two girls, was shot multiple times in the driveway of his Redmond home on June 26 and died at St. Charles Bend on July 1, authorities say. Deschutes County District Attorney Steve Gunnels told The Bulletin on Tuesday that Mutchler was shot with a semi-automatic rifle.

A Redmond father-and-son — Mark Johnson, 45, and Iceton Johnson, 18 — have been indicted on charges of second-degree murder, according to Deschutes County Circuit Court records. Their plea hearings are scheduled in the next week.

Authorities “believe that the alleged shooters and the victim were connected … that they knew each other and that this was a targeted shooting,” Gunnels said.

Redmond Police detectives are still investigating potential motives and how the Johnsons may have known Mutchler, Gunnels said. He added: “We don’t believe this was a random shooting.”

Mutchler’s death shocked those closest to him. Despite his criminal past — more than a dozen convictions, including assault, theft and a variety of drug crimes — and his struggles with addiction, he was staying out of trouble, they say.

His mother, Teresa Gibbs, could see it.

Her son was visiting more frequently than before, helping her set up gnome statues and bird feeders in the garden as well as plant flowers. He was around so much, that Gibbs, 63, bought her son a memory foam mattress, just so he could stay overnight.

“I’m in deep sorrow now,” said Gibbs, a retired former employee of the Madras-based wood manufacturer Bright Wood Corp. She added: “I’m trying to make it through the days, and I’m in shock. He would have been here by now helping me in my garden.”

Mutchler’s loved ones described him as charismatic, outgoing, caring. He knew he seemed intimidating, so he would smile as much as he could, hoping people wouldn’t judge him, said Ryann Smith, a longtime friend and mother to one of his children.

“To everybody who needed help or anything, he was the kind of guy who would grab groceries off a cart and put it in the trunk, or help catch a dog running down the street,” said Smith, a 37-year-old Redmond bartender. “It’s a really unfair loss,” she added.

Since his last felony drug offense in 2016, Mutchler was convicted of two misdemeanors and a few minor driving offenses, court records show. Otherwise, he was staying out of trouble, his loved ones say.

He would take groceries to his mother’s house and leave packages on the porch for his daughter. He wasn’t getting in fights, wasn’t making enemies, his loved ones say.

“He was trying to be really responsible,” said Smith, who learned about Mutchler’s death on her birthday. She added: “Just because someone’s done something wrong in their life doesn’t mean they deserve to die.”

Growing up, Mutchler maintained good grades in school and excelled in sports, his mother said. He enjoyed fishing, attending powwows and other tribal ceremonies. He was protective of his family, standing up to bullies in school, mentoring his brothers. Once, his little brother choked on a french fry and Mutchler saved him by doing the Heimlich maneuver.

Mutchler’s father was “a heck of a good guy” who struggled with alcoholism, his mother said. When he was 11, his dad left, so Mutchler took on his fatherly responsibilities. One night in 2010, his father was found outside in sub-40 degree weather, apparently asleep or passed out, his mother said. He was taken to the hospital but didn’t survive.

Mutchler moved to Central Oregon in the 1990s. His brother described him as “a hustler,” but his family said there was often a different side to him, too. He had “a gentle soul” and enjoyed nature, disco and funk music, they said. He liked to paint. After he died, his daughter brought some of his paintings to his mother’s house.

Teresa Gibbs never knew her son painted. She couldn’t believe it. “My jaw is still sitting on my chest,” she said.

Before his death Marc Gibbs learned that his brother was applying for fishing jobs in Alaska. To him, it seemed, his brother was making plans to go home.

“He was doing it. He was so happy,” Gibbs said, adding: “Now there’s only two of us when there should be three.”