ICE Officer in Maine Shooting Had History of Violence, Mental Health Struggles

Johan Sebastián Durán Guerrero, 25, a Colombian national, was shot and killed by Brouillette on Monday near his home in Biddeford, Maine; at least 10 people have died in immigration agent encounters since Trump's crackdown began.
Afghanistan destroyed him—trained him to be a killing machine
A family member describes how Brouillette's military deployment worsened his documented mental health struggles.
Mark

How does someone with this history pass a federal background check?

Mimi

That's the question everyone's asking. He doesn't have a criminal record in Maine—no arrests, no convictions. The abuse allegations are in family court records, not criminal court. A voicemail threatening violence isn't the same as a criminal charge. On paper, he looks clean enough to pass.

Mark

But his ex-wife knew he was dangerous. His daughter knew. His own family members say he should never have had a gun.

Mimi

They did know. And they tried to document it through the courts—protective orders, custody disputes, all of it. But those records don't automatically disqualify you from federal employment. DHS says he had nearly a decade of law enforcement experience. They point to his training. They don't address the mental health history or the pattern of violence.

Mark

What about the military? He was in the Army. Didn't they flag anything?

Mimi

He was discharged in 2015. After that, he struggled—jobs that didn't last, an injury, disability payments. By the time ICE hired him, years had passed. The question is whether anyone looked closely at what happened in between, or whether they just saw a veteran with federal experience.

Mark

His daughter said he told her the shooting was justified. Does he understand what he did?

Mimi

That's the haunting part. He seems to believe he acted in self-defense. His family says he doesn't see himself as a killer. He's hiding in protective custody now, telling people he did what he had to do. Whether that's genuine belief or something else—denial, compartmentalization—it's hard to say from the outside.

Mark

What happens now?

Mimi

There's an investigation into the shooting itself. But there's also a larger reckoning about how DHS vets people during a hiring surge. Ten people have died in immigration enforcement encounters since the crackdown began. This case puts a spotlight on whether the department is moving fast enough that it's not looking carefully enough.

  • A Colombian man is dead, shot by an ICE officer during an immigration sweep in a small Maine city, and his family is left with grief while the government has yet to officially name the shooter.
  • Court records, family testimony, and voicemail recordings reveal a man with severe bipolar disorder, two suicide attempts at age 12, and a pattern of physical and verbal violence against women and children spanning nearly two decades.
  • Despite military recruiters once rejecting him for mental health diagnoses, Brouillette cycled through the National Guard, the regular Army, a VA police post, and ultimately federal immigration enforcement — each institution passing him forward.
  • His ex-wife received a voicemail in late 2025 in which he suggested she and women in her family should have their throats cut, yet he had already cleared DHS vetting and was actively working as an ICE officer.
  • ICE has declined to name him, the White House has deflected, and at least ten people have now died in immigration enforcement encounters since the current crackdown began — with scrutiny of recruitment standards growing louder.

In Biddeford, Maine, a federal immigration officer with a decades-long record of mental illness, suicide attempts, and documented abuse of family members shot and killed a 25-year-old Colombian man during an enforcement operation. The death of Johan Sebastián Durán Guerrero has drawn attention not only to the encounter itself, but to the deeper question of how a man whose own family described him as dangerously unwell came to carry a government badge and firearm. His story — moving from childhood hospitalization through military service, domestic court filings, and a late-career pivot to ICE — reflects the tension between institutional urgency and the slower, harder work of knowing who we arm in the name of public safety.

David Brouillette was 37 when he shot and killed Johan Sebastián Durán Guerrero, a 25-year-old Colombian national, near Durán Guerrero's home in Biddeford, Maine during an immigration enforcement operation. What emerged in the aftermath was less an account of a single incident than a decades-long portrait of a man whose own family believed should never have been given a badge.

Brouillette was diagnosed with severe bipolar disorder and ADHD as a child. He attempted suicide twice at age 12 and was hospitalized multiple times. His first wife described violence that began during her pregnancy — including an incident in which he threw boiling water at her while she held their daughter. After she left him in 2009, the abuse continued. His second marriage generated hundreds of pages of court filings: allegations of him tackling his teenage daughter, dragging another child through the house, and behavior his ex-wife described as requiring intervention for PTSD and depression. A judge granted a protective order in 2021.

His oldest daughter, Madison, once came home to find him sitting on a tree stump with a gun to his head. She later said of him: "He never wanted to get help."

Brouillette had long pursued military and law enforcement careers. Recruiters initially rejected him over his mental health history but encouraged him to stop his medications and reapply — which he did. He served in the Army, deployed to Afghanistan, and left as a sergeant in 2015. A relative said the deployment worsened him. After discharge, he moved through a prison job, state government work, VA police work, and a firefighting program he couldn't finish after a training injury. By late 2021 he was broke and delivering food for DoorDash.

In late 2025, around the time he joined ICE, Brouillette left a voicemail for his first ex-wife suggesting she and women in her family should have their throats cut. He had already passed DHS vetting. After his photo circulated following the shooting, he called his ex-wife and acknowledged killing Durán Guerrero, saying the man had tried to run him over. He asked her to tell people he was a good person and not to speak about the abuse.

ICE has declined to officially name Brouillette, citing officer safety. The agency noted his "nearly a decade of federal law enforcement experience." At least ten people have died in encounters with immigration agents since the current enforcement crackdown began. The question his story leaves behind is a structural one: how thoroughly is the Department of Homeland Security screening the people it is rapidly arming and deploying — and who bears the cost when that process fails.

David Brouillette was 37 years old when he shot and killed Johan Sebastián Durán Guerrero, a 25-year-old Colombian man, on a Monday afternoon near Durán Guerrero's home in Biddeford, Maine. The shooting occurred during an immigration enforcement operation. What followed was not just an investigation into the incident itself, but an examination of how a man with a documented history of severe mental illness, violence, and abuse allegations came to wear a federal badge and carry a gun.

Family members who spoke to reporters paint a portrait of someone who has struggled since childhood. Brouillette was diagnosed with severe bipolar disorder and attention deficit disorder as a young boy. At age 12, he attempted suicide twice and was hospitalized multiple times. An immediate relative described him as "extremely mentally ill." His first wife, Ashley Brouillette, whom he married in 2007 after they met in high school, said the violence began after she became pregnant with their daughter. He once threw boiling water at her while she was holding their child. When she left him in 2009, the abuse continued.

His second marriage produced more court records—hundreds of pages documenting allegations of physical and verbal abuse. His second ex-wife, whom the AP agreed not to name out of safety concerns, filed multiple requests for temporary protection orders on behalf of herself and their daughters. In court filings, she described him tackling his teenage daughter and smashing spaghetti in her hair during one outburst, and dragging another daughter around the house as she cried. She wrote that he needed counseling for PTSD and depression. A judge granted her protective order in 2021. Brouillette denied the allegations, claiming he had been slandered.

His oldest daughter, Madison, witnessed the volatility firsthand. She told reporters she came home from school once to find her father sitting on a tree stump with a gun to his head. "If you don't really, truly take care of yourself, there's no way you can protect other people," she said. "And with my dad, he never wanted to get help."

Brouillette had long dreamed of law enforcement and military service. High school yearbook photos show him in Naval Junior ROTC. Military recruiters initially rejected him because of his mental health diagnoses, but encouraged him to stop taking his medications for a year and reapply—which he did. He enlisted in the Maine Army National Guard in 2007 as a chemical equipment repairer, later switching to medical logistics specialist. In 2010, he joined the regular Army as a human intelligence collector. He deployed to Afghanistan from May 2012 to February 2013 and left as a sergeant in December 2015. A relative believes the deployment worsened his condition: "Afghanistan destroyed him—trained him to be a killing monster, a machine."

After discharge, Brouillette drifted through jobs. He worked at a medium-security prison, the state's Health and Human Services Department, and as a police officer at a Veterans Affairs medical center. He enrolled in a firefighting program at Southern Maine Community College but was struck in the head by a steel beam during training, sustaining a concussion and post-concussive syndrome that left him unable to complete the program. By late 2021, he was broke, attending school full-time, and delivering food for DoorDash. He collected disability pay from the VA and drove a truck until January 2025, when he quit citing health issues. In March 2025, he passed an exam to become a real estate agent. That same month, the Maine child support agency filed a lien against him.

In late 2025, around the time he joined ICE, Brouillette left a three-minute voicemail for his ex-wife Ashley. He mocked her for obtaining a restraining order and suggested that she and other women in her "bloodline" should die. "And all of you should have your throats cut," he said, adding that while he wasn't threatening to do it himself, he believed they should have had their throats cut. When his picture circulated online after the shooting, Ashley reached out to his current wife. Brouillette spoke with his ex-wife and acknowledged he had killed Durán Guerrero. He asked her to tell people he was a good person and not to discuss the abuse she had endured. He said the shooting was justified—that the man had tried to run him over with his car. His daughter Madison said the same thing: "I don't think he sees himself as a killer. I think he thinks that he genuinely did the right thing."

The Department of Homeland Security has not released Brouillette's name, saying only that "the vehicle attempted to flee the scene and, fearing for public safety, an officer discharged his weapon." When asked about his record and role in the shooting, ICE spokesperson Lauren Bis said the agency would "never confirm or deny attempts to dox our law enforcement officers" and noted that Brouillette had "nearly a decade of federal law enforcement experience with required training including use of force training." The White House referred all questions to ICE. At least ten people have died in encounters with immigration agents since Trump launched his immigration crackdown after retaking office. The vetting that allowed Brouillette to join that force—a man with a childhood diagnosis of severe bipolar disorder, multiple suicide attempts, documented abuse of women and children, recent threats of violence, and a relative who said he should never have been given a badge and gun—raises urgent questions about how thoroughly the Department of Homeland Security has screened recruits as it expanded its enforcement apparatus.

If you don't really, truly take care of yourself, there's no way you can protect other people. And with my dad, he never wanted to get help.
— Madison Brouillette, his daughter
I don't think he sees himself as a killer. I think he thinks that he genuinely did the right thing.
— Madison Brouillette
Contact Us FAQ