Ex-Marine in N.H. lived by his own code
FRANCONIA, N.H. -- Judging from his history of gunplay and boasting about violence, detailed in court records, Gregory W. Floyd was a tinderbox waiting for a spark.
The moment came last Friday, when the 49-year-old former Marine jumped into the middle of a deadly shooting, grabbed the gun from a dying policeman, and killed the man , Liko Kenney, 24, who had shot the officer.
Now Floyd is being hailed as a hero. But police reports, neighbors, and acquaintances paint a more complex portrait of a man who lived by his own code, and whose past, as much as his fast thinking in a critical situation on country road in Franconia, led him to such a bloody juncture.
When Floyd picked up the service weapon of Officer Bruce McKay, 48, and aimed it at Kenney, Floyd knew what he was doing.
In 1997, soon after Floyd moved from Townsend, Mass. , to Easton, N.H. , a residential community of about 300 next to Franconia, state troopers went to his house after neighbors complained of gunfire near his property. According to court docu ments, he told police he was trying to scare off bears that were keeping his son awake.
"I am an ex-Marine and expert shot," Floyd said when police searched the home and found six firearms, according to the police report. "I don't miss what I shoot."
Police contacted Floyd a couple of weeks later, this time because of a report from a Campton man who said Floyd threatened to beat him up. The charge was later dismissed.
That time, Floyd told the officers he could have given them "a third eye," according to records filed in Littleton District Court.
"I know you wear vests, so I would have put it right between the eyes," he said.
He was indicted for the gun charges, but they were later dismissed. Floyd was allowed to keep the weapons. But in 1998, Floyd pleaded guilty to simple assault after he tried to strike a state trooper in the groin with his knee.
Floyd, a tall, broad-shouldered man with thinning gray hair and an accent that hints at his childhood in New Orleans, has shunned reporters who have tried to interview him.
His house, a log cabin deep in the woods, is cordoned off by a rusty chain and four "No Trespassing" signs. A Globe reporter who approached his house yesterday was ordered off the property by a young man with a barking Rottweiler on a leash.
Until last week, few in Franconia, a close-knit ski resort town of about 900, had heard of Floyd, who moved to Easton with his wife, Michelle, and son, Gregory.
The state Attorney General's Office has said it will not press charges against Floyd, pointing out that he used justifiable deadly force.
Sergeant Robert Terhune , a New Hampshire state trooper, praised Floyd's lack of hesitation.
"I wasn't in Mr. Floyd's shoes," said Terhune, who helped coordinate memorial services for McKay on Thursday. "But Mr. Floyd did what he needed to do. He risked his life to save the lives of others."
But some remain shaken by Floyd's actions.
"I can't imagine that type of situation and coming in like that," said Pamela Yarosh , 59, owner of Franconia Business Connection, where Floyd and his 19-year-old son regularly drop off packages to be mailed.
"I would think most people would leave and go for help," she said.
Ellie Lovett , 72, saw Floyd the day after the fatal shootings, when he came into Franconia Village Market on Main Street, where she is a cashier. He asked for a newspaper and said, "I'm the guy who shot the kid," according to Lovett.
"It totally freaked me out," she said. "He said it like he killed a rabbit."
Floyd was born in Germany, according to court records. It is unknown when he came to the United States, but Robert Warden , owner of Bob's Mobil in Franconia, where Floyd takes his Chevy for repairs, said Floyd once told him he was raised in a strict New Orleans household.
"Cajun New Orleans," Warden said. "He is a man of strong character, [with] a real sense of right and wrong."
In 1976, Floyd joined the Marines. After serving in Okinawa, Japan, and Camp Lejeune , N.C., he left the service in February 1979 and received the Good Conduct Medal, awarded to Marines who depart with a clean record.
As a civilian, however, Floyd had trouble with authorities. In April 1981 he sold marijuana to an undercover officer in Georgia and was fined $1,000, according to records filed in Grafton Superior Court.
Around 1990, he moved his family to a three-building condominium complex in Townsend called Country Estates. It was teeming with families, but the Floyds did not socialize, said Calvin Robbins , 56, a former trustee who still maintains the property.
Once, Floyd tried to chop down the trees behind the 23-unit apartment building, so his condo would get more light, Robbins recalled. He used to crank up the heat in the common halls of the building and open his door to let the warm air waft into his unit.
When the men argued, Floyd would wave his silver cane, which he acquired after a back injury at work, neighbors said.
"He was too tough to talk to," Robbins said.
In New Hampshire, Floyd is polite, but taciturn, Yarosh said.
"His son does all the talking," she said.
Warden said he would like to visit Floyd and shake his hand for shooting Kenney. "I admire him," he said. "I'd want him in my corner if I got in a jam."
But he said he will not cross the " No Trespassing " signs without Floyd's permission.
Maria Cramer can be reached at mcramer@globe.com. Globe Correspondent Erin Conroy contributed to this report.
(Correction: Because of an editing error, a story in yesterday's City & Region section about Gregory W. Floyd, a former Marine being hailed as a hero in New Hampshire for his role in a double shooting on May 11, incorrectly stated the day a Globe reporter tried to approach the Floyd residence. The correct day was May 12.) 