Yountville killings claimed young, 'super smart' PTSD expert Jennifer Gonzales

SAN FRANCISCO -- She was 32 years old, and her life was just beginning.

Jennifer Gonzales had gotten married last year. She wore a white lace gown and deep red lipstick, matching the color of her bridesmaids' dresses. The wedding party took photos walking arm-in-arm down a street in Sacramento -- the group was so big that it stretched from curb to curb.

That was Jenn. She loved her big family and her big friend group.

Gonzales and her husband, T.J. Shushereba, were having their first baby this summer. Gonzales was six months pregnant. The couple had plans to travel to Washington, D.C., to celebrate their one-year wedding anniversary March 18.

But on what should have been an ordinary workday at the Pathway Home in Yountville, everything changed. Gonzales and two colleagues were killed Friday by an Army veteran who had received treatment there for post-traumatic stress disorder.

``I feel like we are going to wake up and it's not going to be true anymore, and we'll be happy again,'' said Kate Donovan, a friend of Gonzales' who lives in Seattle. ``To have somebody who was sleeping in your bed with you and your dog a month previously, and making jokes, and leaving funny voice mails on your birthday ... it's devastating.''

Gonzales worked as a clinical psychologist with the U.S. Department of Veterans Affairs, and spent time at the Pathway Home so she could help veterans find academic and vocational programs to return to school. She was widely respected in the field and considered a PTSD expert.

When the VA sent Gonzales' paperwork to Marjorie Morrison, she did a double take. Morrison, the CEO of PsychArmour, a free online library with courses on how to support military veterans, was looking for an expert to write about the subject. She was expecting someone a bit older.

``She was young and super smart,'' Morrison said. ``When the VA says, 'This is our expert,' it's a big deal.''

Gonzales dedicated much of her short life to helping veterans struggling to build a life after deployment. It was a natural fit for a woman so kindhearted, tender and passionate.

``She saw the big picture,'' Morrison said. ``Of all the things that people do for veterans, the least sexy thing is getting colleges prepared for them. It's not as exciting. But she saw it as a good place to do research. It was a way to help them understand what these people go through.''

Gonzales was a helper in the ``Mister Rogers sense,'' said Susan Hennessey, a lifelong friend. She called her a ``sunny, beautiful, unfailingly kind little girl who grew up to be a sunny, beautiful, unfailingly kind woman.''

``Jenn was good, from head to toe,'' Hennessey said in a Twitter post. ``Thoroughly good in a way that is exceptionally rare. ... She dedicated her life to helping veterans who were hurting.''

Gonzales loved to travel. She wanted to visit every state before she turned 30, so she did just that. She loved sandwiches and wanted to open a shop with 50 offerings -- a sandwich representative of each state.

She loved her husband most of all. Sushereba proposed to her in Los Angeles. They were walking on Candy Cane Lane looking at Christmas decorations. In front of one house was a sign with twinkling red and green lights. It read: ``Doc, will you marry me?''

They were planning a baby shower for next month. Gonzales loved to read, and the event was going to be book-themed. For each dessert, there would be a corresponding children's book, including chocolate chip cookies for ``If You Give a Mouse a Cookie.''

``She was so happy at this stage in her life,'' Morrison said. ``She was the happiest I had ever seen her.''