Texas deputy wounded, suspect held in shooting outside Houston courthouse, authorities say

HOUSTON (AP) — A shootout in front of a family courthouse Monday between several Texas deputies and a man with a handgun wounded one of the deputies as well as the suspect, authorities said.

At 12:20 p.m., a man displaying a weapon was reported walking from the Harris County Civil Courthouse in downtown Houston to the nearby Family Law Center, Carl Shaw, assistant chief deputy with the Harris County Precinct 1 Constable’s Office, said during a news conference.

Deputies began chasing the man before ending up at the nearby Family Law Center, where a shootout took place, Shaw said.

“He ran from us initially and then turned around and took a shot at one of our officers and they, of course, returned fire,” Harris County Precinct 1 Constable Alan Rosen said during a news conference late Monday afternoon.

Sheila Jones, a deputy with the constable’s office, and the suspect were shot and wounded, Rosen said.

Jones was wearing a bulletproof vest, which spared her from any internal injuries, Rosen said.

The suspect, whose name was not being immediately released by authorities, was carrying two handguns when he was shot, Rosen said. He was being charged with one court of aggravated assault of a peace officer, but more charges were expected against him.

The deputy, who was shot and injured on her left side, and suspect were hospitalized and both were listed as stable Monday afternoon. No other injuries were reported.

Five deputies were involved in the encounter with the suspect, and investigators are trying to determine how many of them fired their weapons, Rosen said. At least one building near the shooting had a bullet go through one of its windows.

The injured deputy has been in law enforcement for 30 years and previously worked for the Harris County Sheriff’s Office.

The shooting took place in an area in downtown Houston where the criminal and civil courthouses are located as well as the Harris County jury plaza, where potential jurors report for duty. Thousands of people visit the various buildings each day to attend court hearings or other legal proceedings.

“This is a very busy complex. … What the suspect had in mind, I don’t know,” said Houston Police Chief Noe Diaz, whose agency will lead the investigation into the shooting.

Harris County District Attorney Sean Teare credited Jones and the other deputies with helping prevent bystanders who were at the crowded courthouse complex area from being injured.

“Because of her, we don’t have a mass casualty event,” Teare said.

Investigators talk to law enforcement officers outside the Family Law Center at San Jacinto and Franklin after a Harris County deputy was shot, as was the suspected shooter, in Houston, Monday, April 21, 2025. (Yi-Chin Lee/Houston Chronicle via AP)

Law enforcement officers investigate the scene where a Harris County deputy and a suspect were shot near the courthouse complex in the 1100 block of Congress Street in Houston, Monday, April 21, 2025. (Brett Coomer/Houston Chronicle via AP)

Law enforcement stand outside the Family Law Center at San Jacinto and Franklin after a Harris County deputy was shot in Houston, Monday, April 21, 2025. (Yi-Chin Lee/Houston Chronicle via AP)

Law enforcement officers investigate the scene where a Harris County deputy and a suspect were shot outside The Family Law Center in Houston, Monday, April 21, 2025. (Brett Coomer/Houston Chronicle via AP)

Law enforcement officers investigate the scene where a Texas sheriff's deputy and a suspect were shot outside the Family Law Center in Houston, Monday, April 21, 2025. (Brett Coomer/Houston Chronicle via AP)

Law enforcement officers investigate the scene where a Harris County deputy and a suspect were shot outside the Family Law Center in Houston, Monday, April 21, 2025. (Brett Coomer/Houston Chronicle via AP)

Harris County District Attorney Sean Teare stands with local law enforcement officials as officers investigate the scene where a Pct. 1 Constable's deputy and a suspect was shot near a courthouse complex in Houston, Monday, April 21, 2025. (Brett Coomer/Houston Chronicle via AP)

Law enforcement officers investigate the scene where a deputy and a suspect were shot near a courthouse complex in Houston, Monday, April 21, 2025. (Brett Coomer/Houston Chronicle via AP)

Law enforcement work outside the family courthouse at San Jacinto and Franklin after a Harris County sheriff's deputy was shot, as was the suspected shooter, in Houston, Monday, April 21, 2025. (Yi-Chin Lee/Houston Chronicle via AP)

Law enforcement work outside the Family Law Center after a Harris County deputy was shot in Houston, Monday, April 21, 2025. (Yi-Chin Lee/Houston Chronicle via AP)

Harris County Sheriff Ed Gonzalez stands with local officials as law enforcement officers investigate the scene where a Harris County deputy and a suspect were shot outside the Family Law Center in Houston, Monday, April 21, 2025. (Brett Coomer/Houston Chronicle via AP)

Law enforcement officers investigate the scene where a Texas deputy and a suspect were shot outside the Family Law Center in Houston, Monday, April 21, 2025. (Brett Coomer/Houston Chronicle via AP)

MINNEAPOLIS (AP) — Right after Sunday worship at St. Paul’s-San Pablo Lutheran Church, Juan Carlos Toapanta lay in a lounge chair set up by the altar, needles sticking out of his forehead, wrist and foot for an hourlong acupuncture session.

“Just like the Lord’s light helps emotionally, the body’s pain is treated as well,” said the Ecuadorian construction worker, who suffers from sciatica and has worshipped at the Minneapolis church for about five months. “Everything feels freed, emotionally.”

Founded by Swedish immigrants in the late 19th century, the church is now a predominantly Latino congregation. Like most other churches in the U.S. that serve migrants, it has expanded its humanitarian, financial, legal and pastoral ministries during the Trump administration’s immigration crackdown.

It has also added monthly well-being sessions — at no charge — with acupuncture, Reiki and cupping therapy to ease the stress that uncertainty and fear have sown among the migrant community — including people in the U.S. illegally and U.S.-born citizens in mixed-status families.

“We have to feel well to respond well, not with panic and fear, which leads to nothing good,” said Lizete Vega, who has spearheaded the well-being efforts as the church’s Latino outreach coordinator. “People here feel that they’re protected and can be cared for spiritually, emotionally and physically.”

Faith leaders have increasingly found themselves called to help their congregations with mental health concerns, from chaplains in the U.S. Navy to pastors in the rural heartland.

Some see the need to provide reassurance and well-being as a growing part of their ministry to migrants, even as revised federal immigration guidelines now provide more leeway for enforcement in or near houses of worship.

“It was as if they were able to exhale a big breath,” the Rev. Hierald Osorto said of the 30 congregants who signed up for the first well-being session in March at St. Paul’s, where an outdoor mural features two traditional Swedish Dala horses between the Spanish words “sanación” (healing) and “resiliencia” (resilience).

After last Sunday’s worship, the altar table and Easter lilies were moved to make room for seven acupuncture chairs, arranged in a circle facing the central cross. Three massage tables were set up in front of the pews for the Reiki treatment, where practitioners hold their hands on or near the body’s energy centers.

“To see this space be quite literally a place of healing, in the place where we talk about it right at the altar, it moved me to tears,” Osorto said.

Wellness practitioners and mental health clinicians say anxiety and depression among those they serve in migrant communities have spread and intensified this year.

Already, migrants often arrive with severe trauma from violence they fled in their home countries as well as attacks along cartel-controlled routes to and through the U.S. border.

Women in particular often suffer sexual violence on the journey. For many, the fear that they or someone in their families might be deported is revictimizing. That makes it imperative that “safe places” exist where they can focus on wellness, said Noeline Maldonado, executive director of The Healing Center, which helps domestic and sexual violence victims in Brooklyn, New York.

Sessions that promote grounding and mindfulness are necessary to cope with the stress of both immediate crises as well as long-term unpredictability as immigration policies shift.

“Uncertainty is the biggest thing,” said Cheryl Aguilar, director of Hope Center for Wellness in the Washington, D.C., area, which has partnered with churches to provide mental health programs.

Being in community and cultivating hope is crucial because many people are responding to fear with rising anxiety, traumatic symptoms and isolation, all of which can have lasting consequences, Aguilar added.

“It’s nonstop work, nonstop fear,” said Sarah Howell, a clinical social worker in Houston with more than a decade of experience in migration-related trauma. “Every issue seems bigger.”

Howell said many of her clients in Texas are realizing they can’t live in a state of constant alarm, and the respite that wellness programs can bring becomes essential.

“People feel hopeless, but they have to keep fighting,” said Guadalupe Gonzalez, one of the bilingual Reiki practitioners whose organization, Odigo Wellness, partnered with St. Paul's in Minneapolis to offer the sessions.

She said she had some doubts about offering these healing practices inside a church — a large space with light flooding in and people moving through.

“But the sanctuary has a very nice, very positive energy,” Gonzalez said. “As practitioners we feel a lot of emotions.”

Several congregants who attended last Sunday’s two-hour wellness session said they felt both the energy and the connection between these healing practices and faith.

Martha Dominguez came bouncing down the altar steps after an acupuncture session. Grinning, she said she had never imagined a church would offer these kinds of “benefits.”

“Yes, it helps so much,” said the Mexican immigrant. “It takes the stress away from you.”

Limber Saliero, a roofer from Ecuador who has been worshipping at St. Paul’s for five years, said he had never heard of acupuncture but decided to try it.

“I felt like an energy that was flowing into me,” he said.

Vanessa Arcos tried acupuncture with her sister and her father, while her mother got a Reiki treatment. The family started attending the church the week they arrived in Minnesota from their home state of Guerrero, Mexico, almost a decade ago.

Lying in the lounge chair next to a statue of the Virgin of Guadalupe, Arcos said she overcame her fear of needles and found the treatment relaxing for both muscles and mind.

“It felt very peaceful, very safe,” Arcos said. “It’s important to do little things for yourself.”

Associated Press religion coverage receives support through the AP’s collaboration with The Conversation US, with funding from Lilly Endowment Inc. The AP is solely responsible for this content.

Spring blossoms bloom on a tree next to the entrance of St. Paul’s-San Pablo Lutheran Church, a congregation founded by Swedish immigrants in the late 19th century that has started offering wellness programs in its sanctuary as part of its migrant ministry, in Minneapolis, Sunday, April 27, 2025. (AP Photo/Giovanna Dell’Orto)

Congregants of St. Paul’s-San Pablo Lutheran Church receive acupuncture treatments in the sanctuary after worship during a wellness program the church started as part of its migrant ministry, in Minneapolis, Sunday, April 27, 2025. (AP Photo/Giovanna Dell’Orto)

Guadalupe Gonzalez performs a Reiki treatment as Limber Saliero, background right, undergoes an acupuncture session in the sanctuary of St. Paul’s-San Pablo Lutheran Church, which recently added wellness programs as part of its migrant ministry, in Minneapolis, Sunday, April 27, 2025. (AP Photo/Giovanna Dell’Orto)

Martha Dominguez receives an acupuncture treatment in the sanctuary of St. Paul’s-San Pablo Lutheran Church, which recently added wellness sessions as part of its migrant ministry, in Minneapolis, Sunday, April 27, 2025. (AP Photo/Giovanna Dell’Orto)

Juan Carlos Toapanta, foreground, and Martha Dominguez, background, receive acupuncture treatments in the sanctuary of St. Paul’s-San Pablo Lutheran Church, which recently added wellness sessions as part of its migrant ministry, in Minneapolis, Sunday, April 27, 2025. (AP Photo/Giovanna Dell’Orto)

Acupuncturist Kahlyn Keilty-Lucas starts a treatment at St. Paul’s-San Pablo Lutheran Church, which holds wellness sessions after Sunday worship in the sanctuary as part of its migrant ministry, in Minneapolis, Sunday, April 27, 2025. (AP Photo/Giovanna Dell’Orto)

The Rev. Hierald Osorto speaks to the congregation of St. Paul’s-San Pablo Lutheran Church, which holds wellness sessions after Sunday worship in the sanctuary as part of its migrant ministry, in Minneapolis, Sunday, April 27, 2025. (AP Photo/Giovanna Dell’Orto)

Juan Carlos Toapanta receives an acupuncture treatment in the sanctuary of St. Paul’s-San Pablo Lutheran Church, which recently added wellness sessions as part of its migrant ministry, in Minneapolis, Sunday, April 27, 2025. (AP Photo/Giovanna Dell’Orto)

Guadalupe Gonzalez, foreground center, and two other practitioners perform Reiki treatments in the sanctuary of St. Paul’s-San Pablo Lutheran Church, where congregant Lizete Vega, left, helped organize wellness sessions as part of its migrant ministry, in Minneapolis, Sunday, April 27, 2025. (AP Photo/Giovanna Dell’Orto)

Marakah Mancini de León performs a Reiki treatment near a sign in Spanish reading, “Christ is risen,” in the sanctuary of St. Paul’s-San Pablo Lutheran Church, which recently added wellness sessions as part of its migrant ministry, in Minneapolis, Sunday, April 27, 2025. (AP Photo/Giovanna Dell’Orto)