In the days leading up to a fateful encounter with local law enforcement, Edmond resident Ross Norwood methodically tore the carpet out of his home and piled it on his porch. Late on Sept. 3, he lit the stack ablaze in the midst of a psychotic episode that had been percolating for days, prefaced by hundreds of disturbing social media posts and erratic behavior that frightened his neighbors and spurred calls for help. Shortly before midnight, Edmond Police Department Sgt. Nathan Fountain responded to the fiery scene and shot the incoherent Norwood, believing the grill lighters used to start the porch blaze were knives.
For at least two weeks before the non-fatal shooting — which occurred at least 30 seconds before Fountain remembered to turn on his body-worn camera — neighbors raised repeated red flags regarding Norwood’s mental health, calling 911 to request multiple welfare checks and some sort of intervention. Two residents were so concerned they contacted an elected official. Edmond police, including multiple officers who responded to the arson call, knew Norwood by name and knew of his mental health challenges. When Norwood attempted to break into someone’s home days before being shot, neighbors hoped it would give EPD cause to take him into custody and connect him with the help he needed.
With no intervention achieved, however, the situation grew worse until Norwood started the fire, put his neighbors in danger and got shot by Fountain in the process. Now, Norwood faces first-degree arson and assault charges — as well as a subsequently filed stalking charge — and his story has become yet another example of central Oklahoma’s failing mental health intervention system under investigation by the U.S. Department of Justice.
“It really is a systemic failure. This kind of thing is happening far too often where we see people in crisis, or people who are mentally ill, and either law enforcement or the community don’t really know where to go or how to handle it,” said Oklahoma County chief public defender Brigitte Biffle. “And then, this situation obviously arises, where, had it been taken care of early, maybe this whole thing could have been avoided.”
Fountain, the officer who fired the single shot as Norwood approached him flailing lighters, has been cleared of wrongdoing by Oklahoma County District Attorney Vicki Behenna, who declared she would defer all police use-of-force cases to a grand jury, even though Oklahoma law allows a DA to make their own charging decisions. While Behenna’s press release called Norwood’s shooting “non-life threatening” and noted that grand juries are secretive by law, it did not include reference to his mental health crisis.
“Grand jurors viewed 15 evidentiary exhibits and hear from one detective who testified about he interviews conducted during the investigation,” the release stated. “Grand jurors did not believe a use-of-force expert would help in their deliberations. After reviewing the testimony and the exhibits, the [grand] jury recommended a no bill against the Edmond officer involved.”
Nonetheless, the case of Ross Norwood raises a number of questions that likely would have drawn more scrutiny had he not survived the gunshot to his chest: Why did no police camera capture the shooting? Why were citizens’ prior calls for intervention ultimately ineffective? Are Oklahoma’s mental health resources readily available to the public? In a community with above average public safety funding, why was legitimate and repeated public concern over a mentally ill man’s welfare unable to avoid the violent scene that unfolded Sept. 3?
‘I wouldn’t call it a solution’
Seven calls for emergency services related to Norwood’s address were logged between July 8 and the Sept. 3 shooting, according to EPD’s investigatory report.
Police were contacted after Norwood attempted to force his way into a nearby home Aug. 29, and records of 911 calls provided to NonDoc show a welfare check was requested Aug. 17. Two more welfare checks were requested Aug. 26. A day before that, on Aug. 25, another caller contacted 911 to report “creepy, off-the-wall” comments Norwood made to neighborhood children.
Norwood’s history of mental health struggles and EPD’s familiarity with him stretch back much further than those critical weeks. In 2015, Norwood was investigated by the U.S. Secret Service after making threatening posts about former President Barack Obama.
“OBAMA AND HIS GUN RUNNERS OR COPS ON THE TAKE ARE [dead on arrival],” Norwood’s post read. A secret service agent visited Norwood’s residence to speak with him about the post, according to the EPD report.
There were two separate instances of Norwood swerving his vehicle at pedestrians over the same timeframe. In 2015, Norwood encountered a patrolling police officer in his neighborhood — Sgt. William Wright, who was one of the officers that responded to Norwood’s residence the night of the shooting. During that incident, Wright approached to speak with Norwood, who ran back to his car and sped off, “narrowly missing” Wright and his patrol car. In 2016, Norwood veered at a person checking her mail when she raised her arms and asked why he was driving so fast through the neighborhood. He received reckless driving citations both times.
According to the EPD report, Norwood’s sisters told police a 2014 incident had him “freaked out” and potentially compounded his mental health struggles. At the time, Norwood was dating a neighbor named Bonnie Wolf, who died in her sleep while in bed with Norwood on March 23, 2014. When police searched Norwood’s home this Sept. 4 after the fire and shooting, they found a newspaper clipping of Wolf’s obituary taped to his bedroom wardrobe.
Wolf’s death scarred Norwood, his sisters told EPD. In psychotic episodes, Norwood began to believe Wolf had not died, but had “shapeshifted” into the body of another woman somewhere in the neighborhood. During the Sept. 3 incident, witnesses told EPD that Norwood was “talking about Bonnie” while in psychosis — an episodic mental state where an individual loses contact with reality. In the police report, Norwood’s sisters said he “really loved” Wolf. During the psychotic episode that culminated in Norwood setting his house on fire, he apparently stayed awake for more than 24 hours, tweeting hundreds of times and referencing Wolf in the process.
As Norwood’s mental health issues worsened over the years, his family and friends have distanced themselves, leaving him increasingly isolated whenever he entered a severe episode. In the EPD report, Norwood’s sisters said his son was “estranged from Ross for 10-15 years, as far as they knew.” After the shooting, one of Norwood’s sisters contacted his son, but he had not responded by the time of their interview with EPD. At least one of the sisters, who previously lived in Oklahoma City, said she moved away around 2012 because she was “scared” by comments Norwood made to her. Norwood’s sisters said he “refused” to voluntarily receive mental health treatment, despite a family history of severe mental health struggles. Norwood’s grandfather died by suicide, his sisters told EPD, and his older brother had a heart attack “right after a mental health episode where he was in his front yard taking his clothes off.”
Grant Leatherwood, a resident of Norwood’s neighborhood, said the community felt powerless to handle Norwood’s episodes outside of calling the police. He said no one felt comfortable discussing Norwood’s mental health issues with him directly or encouraging him to seek help. That left neighbors unsure what recourse they had beyond calling 911.
“I think that was really just the extent of what we, as neighbors, thought we could do,” Leatherwood said. “I wouldn’t call it a solution, but it’s just the only thing we knew that we could do legally, given the relationship we all had with him.”
Edmond Police Chief J.D. Younger has been vocal about law enforcement’s existing, but limited, role in handling mental health crises. As a panelist at the Healthy Minds Policy Initiative’s “State of Mental Health” event Oct. 23, Younger said police are not best equipped to address citizens’ mental health crises.
“If you call your carpenter to fix your plumbing job, what tools are they going to bring?” Younger said during the panel. “They may be able to fix your plumbing issue, but it’s not going to be the way that it should be fixed. (…) You can call us, and we’re going to respond, and we’re going to help within our capacity, but that’s not our education.”
Thomas Goodwin, who also lives in the area, echoed Leatherwood’s appraisal. He said he understood police officers may not be able to “kick the door in” and force someone with mental health issues to seek treatment, but he believed calling the police about Norwood’s erratic behavior was the only action available to him. The tragedy that unfolded, he said, took place in part because of Norwood’s distance from remaining loved ones who could have intervened had they known the situation.
“If I’m having a mental breakdown, I’m hoping that my family is going to be there for me,” Goodwin said. “Unfortunately, [Norwood’s] were not around during his time of crisis.”
Clay Curtis, a criminal defense attorney representing Norwood in his arson and assault case, said Norwood is still in the Oklahoma County Jail and has not been receiving the mental health treatment necessary to restore his competency and address his illness.
“First and foremost, this is a tragedy I believe should have been avoided,” Curtis said. “I hope that the Edmond Police Department uses this as a learning experience, because I think it shows what not to do. Mr. Norwood was clearly in crisis, and frankly, the police made matters worse. Sadly, in my opinion, no one is getting adequate mental health care in the Oklahoma County Jail.”
Younger defended EPD’s response to the Norwood call, given that one 911 caller said Norwood may have had a knife.
“I think we have to look at the night in question and what we responded to there,” Younger told NonDoc. “While, definitely, mental health appears to be an aspect of that, we can’t forget that the call was not only a fire, but an active arson with a suspect on scene reported by the neighbor to be potentially armed with a knife. (…) Unfortunately, while we may be aware of the possibility of a mental health consumer being involved in that, that doesn’t allow us to respond with a less-diligent posture than what’s been reported to us.”
‘Folks just don’t know those resources exist’
To some extent, options exist to address public mental health concerns without the potentially dangerous step of involving law enforcement. However, they can be difficult for the general public to navigate, especially in a situation with someone like Norwood, whose psychotic episodes often left him incoherent. In some cases when people need professional intervention for a mental health crisis, observers can be unaware of whom to call or can receive feedback out of line with how resources are promoted.
NorthCare, a mental health services provider, has two locations in Edmond and operates a “mobile crisis and outreach team” dispatched from calls to 988, the mental health line launched nationally in 2021 but operated at a state level through third-party contracts.
Goodwin said he was not aware 988 existed — which is common among most Americans, recent research indicates. The lack of widespread awareness can lead to increased police involvement in mental health situations and dangerous interactions, as in Norwood’s case. One study released in July reported only 23 percent of people knew about 988, which debuted as the free nationwide mental health crisis number in 2022. Two other polls published this year suggest the number could be as low as 15 or 18 percent.
Tony Stelter, chief of statewide crisis services at the Oklahoma Department of Mental Health and Substance Abuse Services, said awareness remains one of the biggest impediments to successful crisis response.
“[988] hasn’t been around for 60 years like 911 has, so I think it will take time. I think we’re constantly working on getting that information out,” Stelter said. “We’re working on it, but I would say sometimes, yeah, folks just don’t know those resources exist.”
City of Edmond spokesman Bill Begley said the city’s 911 operators are empowered to transfer calls to 988 “if/when it is determined that a law enforcement response is not needed.” No one interviewed for this article could confirm whether Edmond police reached out to 988, NorthCare or other mental health service providers concerning the multiple August welfare checks requested for Norwood.
Biffle said 988 has limitations in crisis situations, though, particularly if the person in crisis is experiencing severe psychosis, is incoherent or is otherwise uncooperative. The 988 website notes the number is most effective if the person “agrees to receive help.”
“In those cases where we’re dealing with someone with severe mental illness or severe issues, you can’t really have that type of conversation, or maybe, you know, they’re in active psychosis, and so they’re not going to understand what you’re saying,” Biffle said. “We just need more in those situations.”
Biffle said the limited number of behavioral health specialists contracted for 988 service are equipped to handle some situations but “are not able to handle all situations.”
“It’s so important for everyone to receive training in what to do in all the situations in order to be able to adequately handle them. Otherwise, you have someone responding who doesn’t know how to handle the situation,” Biffle said. “I think when an individual is in active psychosis, it requires someone who knows how to handle that situation. An individual who is trained to be able to know what to do, how to approach communicating with the person, and how to deescalate the situation.”
In theory, a robust mental health line in Oklahoma would also be able to help concerned community members request assistance from Programs of Assertive Community Treatment, or PACT teams. These teams are made up of mental health professionals, law enforcement officers and other social workers trained to provide consistent and intensive psychiatric care, including crisis intervention services. Referrals to PACT teams are made by behavioral health professionals, Stelter said.
In Oklahoma, PACT teams are underutilized and serve less than half of adults that could benefit from their services, according to a review by Health Minds Policy Initiative. Many counties have no PACT teams, while some existing teams are asked to serve multiple counties. In Oklahoma, the Healthy Minds study found that 11 PACT teams statewide serve around 750 to 800 people a year, versus the estimated 81,000 Oklahomans living with serious mental illnesses.
For extreme or repeated instances of severe mental illness, legal processes exist for law enforcement to take direct action. Under Oklahoma law, Title 43a, Section 5-207, officers “shall” place individuals into protective custody if they meet certain criteria.
“Any peace officer who reasonably believes that a person is a person requiring treatment as defined in Section 1-103 of this title shall take the person into protective custody. The officer shall make every reasonable effort to take the person into custody in the least conspicuous manner,” the statute reads.
The process is commonly known as seeking an “emergency order of detention,” and members of the public can sign affidavits supporting an officer’s decision to detain individuals based on belief that they are a threat to themselves or others. Mental health detention beyond 120 hours requires a district court order.
While Younger said he lacked direct knowledge of every contact EPD had with Ross Norwood, he said he saw nothing in internal reports that caused him “to believe that [Norwood] was not exposed to resources that could have assisted.”
But Norwood’s attorney said that, to his knowledge, police had not connected Norwood with NorthCare or other mental health resources prior to the shooting.
“Obviously, Mr. Norwood was in crisis,” Curtis said.
This week, an ODMHSAS employee’s examination of Norwood in the Oklahoma County Jail resulted in a report deeming him mentally “incompetent” to stand trial. As approved by Curtis, an assistant district attorney and a judge, the agreement means Norwood will be transferred to ODMHSAS custody for the administration of competency restoration services, delays in the provision of which are the subject of a federal class action lawsuit against the state currently being settled.
What police did, did not do during the shooting
At 11:48 p.m. on Sept. 3, Edmond dispatch received a 911 call from Thomas Goodwin reporting the fire on Norwood’s front porch. Goodwin told dispatch he thought police had been trying to pick up Norwood “for about a week” prior to the incident.
For the first several minutes of the 911 audio, Goodwin can be heard rushing to houses in the area to warn neighbors of the fire. At one point, he passed Norwood in the road, and reported that Norwood swung at him. Goodwin told the 911 operator he was unsure if Norwood was holding a knife. Goodwin attempted to reassure Norwood through his psychosis.
“They’re coming Ross, just stay calm,” Goodwin said at one point. An irate Norwood could be heard in the background ranting incoherently.
Goodwin, who was carrying his handgun during the 911 call, told NonDoc he nearly shot Norwood himself. Norwood was approaching him and his wife, Goodwin said, but he was able to force the man to back up with verbal commands.
During his interview with EPD, Fountain stated he almost did not respond to the call. He was driving home since his shift ended at midnight, and as dispatch provided information about the fire, Fountain said he had a “weird feeling.” He then turned to head toward the address, but he apparently did not turn on his lights or body camera. No body camera footage exists of the shooting, only the immediate aftermath. While police were en route, another officer asked if the address was that of Ross Norwood, which dispatch confirmed.
Younger said officers are expected to activate their cameras if they anticipate any enforcement action could take place during a call. The body cameras constantly record on a 30-second buffer, Younger said, meaning once an officer activates his or her camera, the clip also includes the prior 30 seconds of footage without audio.
Patrol vehicle dash cameras are automatically activated if the cruiser’s lights come on, Younger said. In early body camera footage of the incident, Fountain’s patrol car can be seen with its lights deactivated, and the EPD investigatory report states there were no video files on the camera’s SD card when it was retrieved.
“The layman’s explanation would be, if you think you’re doing ‘cop stuff,’ go ahead and turn [the body camera] on if you can, if it’s feasible to do it,” Younger said. “If he didn’t turn his lights on, [the vehicle’s dash camera] probably wouldn’t have activated. Well, it wouldn’t have activated, unless you manually activate it (…) Again, those are set up on an automated deal when lights come on.”
Fountain, a 23-year EPD veteran, was involved in another non-fatal shooting in 2009 when a suspect Fountain had handcuffed during a traffic stop stole his patrol vehicle. Fountain and another officer opened fire, hitting the suspect in the hand.
Fountain knew who Norwood was, according to the September EPD report, and he was familiar with Norwood’s mental health issues. When he arrived on scene, Fountain first saw embers from the porch fire rising into the air. The blaze illuminated the street, where Norwood was still meandering and flailing his arms violently.
Fountain parked his vehicle near Norwood’s mailbox, he told EPD investigators. When he exited his patrol car, a Chevy Tahoe, Norwood was passing on the other side, partially obscuring him from view. At that point, Fountain said he saw Norwood carrying two “black, long objects” but could not identify them.
In his own report, Sgt. William Wright stated that while Norwood was experiencing psychosis, he screamed at officers for being “from the government” while thrusting his hands aggressively. From his angle, Wright stated he could tell one of the objects Norwood held was a grill lighter, but he still could not identify the other. Norwood “charged” at Fountain while thrusting the objects around at waist height, Wright said. Fountain fired one shot, striking Norwood in the chest.
The earliest footage from the scene began at 11:54 p.m. from Wright’s body camera, which showed the wounded Norwood still trying to keep officers away from him by slashing with the lighters. At that point, Wright said Fountain realized the objects were not knives.
Police then began restraining Norwood, who can be seen in EPD footage bleeding heavily through his blue hoodie. As Norwood screeched and resisted, an officer said, “Ross, we’re trying to help you bud, OK?”
During the struggle, Norwood moaned and repeatedly shouted, “I’m dead, I’m dead.” As officers reached for the lighters, he eventually repeated, “I’ll give it to you.”
“You’re not dead, Ross. Calm down, buddy,” one of the officers replied.
The three officers restraining Norwood consoled him over the next several minutes, instructing him to breathe and promising him that medical care was on the way. As police spoke with him, Norwood fluctuated from calm to irate, at one point shouting, “Please kill me, you motherfuckers,” then thanking the officers almost immediately afterward.
“We don’t want you to die. I know it’s tough right now, but just keep doing your best for me, OK?” one officer said. “You’re being super tough for me, and I appreciate that, Ross.”
After Norwood was restrained, Fountain stepped away from the scene to move his vehicle. He was later approached by one of his supervisors.
“I fired the shot. I shot him,” Fountain said, unprompted. “It looked like he had two knives in his hands coming at me. He had two frickin’ lighters in his hands, long lighters.”
Fountain later told a supervisor that he almost did not respond to the call.
“I almost went home,” a despondent Fountain said. “Then I saw I was the closest. (…) Didn’t even have my camera — I didn’t get it on, I think hopefully [Wright] did.”
(Update: This article was updated at 9:24 p.m. Friday, Dec. 6, to correct reference to a date in 2014. It was updated again at 11:30 a.m. Monday, Dec. 9, to correct reference to a location.)
