Chris Kyle, revered as the ‘American Sniper,’ was tragically killed on February 2, 2013, an event that sent shockwaves through the nation, particularly within military and gun enthusiast communities. His death sparked widespread grief and prompted many to ask: Why Was Chris Kyle Killed? While initial narratives painted a picture of a war hero felled by a malicious individual, the reality is far more complex, rooted in the troubled mind of Eddie Ray Routh, a veteran Kyle was trying to help. This article delves into the circumstances surrounding Kyle’s death, exploring the mental state of his killer and raising critical questions about the support systems in place for veterans struggling with mental illness.
The day before the fatal shooting, Eddie Ray Routh, a 25-year-old former Marine, was grappling with severe mental distress in his Lancaster, Texas home. He had moved back in with his parents several months prior, battling symptoms that suggested a deep-seated mental illness, beyond the PTSD diagnosis he had received. Routh himself expressed paranoid delusions, believing his coworkers at a cabinet shop were cannibals plotting against him.
His anxiety was so overwhelming that he couldn’t drive himself to work. His mother, Jodi, took on the responsibility of driving him each morning before heading to her own job. This arrangement left Routh alone for hours every afternoon, a period that filled Jodi with dread. “When I’d start back to the house,” Jodi recounted, “I’d be like, ‘Please don’t let me find him dead.’ I was so afraid he was going to kill himself. Because that’s what he wanted.” His distress was so profound that he would often seek comfort by sleeping in his mother’s bed, a stark contrast to the image of a “6’2 Marine,” as Jodi described, “A tough man calling for his mama.”
On the morning of February 1, 2013, as Jodi prepared to drop him at work, Routh’s anxieties about his spiritual well-being surfaced. In the parking lot of the cabinet shop, he asked his mother to pray with him. Jodi held her son’s hand, noticing his wiry frame, narrow face, and the nervous flicker in his eyes. Before leaving the car, Routh asked God to protect his parents, a poignant moment preceding the tragic events to come.
Jodi was leaving town that afternoon to visit her husband, Raymond, for the weekend. She found solace in knowing Routh’s girlfriend would be at the house and his uncle would check on him. Unbeknownst to her, Routh had other plans. The next day, February 2, 2013, was the day Chris Kyle and his friend, Chad Littlefield, planned to take him to a shooting range – a fateful decision that would end in tragedy.
Chris Kyle’s death resonated deeply across Texas and the nation. A celebrated figure, Kyle was mourned as a hero. His memorial service at Texas Stadium was a testament to his popularity and the high regard in which he was held. Gun enthusiasts especially embraced Kyle, recognizing him as a celebrity within their community.
Kyle’s persona as a modern-day icon was solidified by his books. He authored American Gun: A History of the U.S. in Ten Firearms, and his autobiography, American Sniper, became a bestseller. American Sniper detailed his four tours in Iraq and his record of 160 confirmed kills as a Navy SEAL, further cementing his legendary status. The book was adapted into a successful film starring Bradley Cooper, which was in theaters when Routh’s trial began.
In his videotaped confession with a Texas Ranger, Routh chillingly stated about Kyle, “I knew if I did not take his soul, he was going to take mine.”
The trial of Eddie Ray Routh for the murder of Chris Kyle commenced on February 11, 2014, in Stephenville, Texas. The small town became the center of national attention. Outside the courthouse, vendors capitalized on the notoriety, selling Chris Kyle memorabilia. Governor Greg Abbott even declared February 2 as Chris Kyle Day, further emphasizing the hero status of the victim.
Routh’s defense team argued that he was legally insane at the time of the killings. Their psychiatric expert, who examined Routh, contested the initial PTSD diagnosis from the Dallas Veterans Affairs (VA) hospital, suggesting instead that Routh suffered from schizophrenia and paranoid delusions. Routh’s videotaped confession revealed the disturbing state of his mind.
Eddie Ray Routh’s police interview video played at his murder trial, revealing his disturbed state of mind. (AP/Star-Telegram, Rodger Mallison, Pool)
The prosecution, however, portrayed Routh as a psychopath, arguing that his seemingly bizarre statements were calculated to avoid imprisonment. After brief deliberations, the jury sided with the prosecution, finding Routh guilty and sentencing him to life in prison without parole.
The verdict reinforced a simplistic narrative: a virtuous hero, Chris Kyle, was murdered by a villain. Marcus Luttrell, another former Navy SEAL and author of Lone Survivor, echoed this sentiment in a tweet, implying Routh would face further retribution in prison.
However, the narrative of “good versus evil” obscures a more nuanced and tragic truth. Recently released confidential medical records belonging to Eddie Ray Routh, shared by his parents with The Trace, paint a different picture. These documents support the defense’s expert testimony, indicating that Routh exhibited signs of schizophrenia and suffered multiple psychotic episodes in the years leading up to Kyle’s death. This evidence raises serious questions about the adequacy of Routh’s treatment at the Dallas VA.
Dr. Amam Saleh, a forensic psychiatrist who reviewed Routh’s medical records for The Trace, commented, “[The VA] should have been more careful … when he was presenting with much clearer psychotic symptoms. Something was missed.”
Routh’s military service included a six-month deployment in Iraq in 2007, where he worked as a weapons repairman and prison guard. He also participated in a humanitarian mission to Haiti in 2010 after the devastating earthquake. Routh recounted disturbing experiences in Haiti, claiming he was responsible for clearing corpses, including dead babies. While this account remains unverified, his mother noted a significant decline in his mental state upon his return from Haiti, stating “he was just so messed up.”
Memorial service for Chris Kyle at Texas Stadium, where thousands gathered to honor the ‘American Sniper’. (AP/Brandon Wade)
In July 2011, Routh sought help at the Dallas VA, complaining of a tapeworm, a delusion that doctors found to be unfounded. It was at this point that the VA diagnosed him with PTSD and prescribed antipsychotic and antidepressant medications, including Risperidone.
Days later, Routh threatened suicide using his father’s .357 Magnum. He was again admitted to the Dallas VA for nearly two weeks. Clinical notes from August 3 described him as “psychotic.” He made bizarre statements to staff, saying, “You are all in this game, I can see the smoke in the mirror, we are all actors.”
Throughout 2012, Routh’s condition worsened. He developed paranoia, believing the government was spying on him, and reported auditory hallucinations. Another altercation with his father and renewed suicidal threats led his parents to remove firearms from their home. The VA considered alcohol abuse as a trigger for his psychotic episodes and offered inpatient treatment for it, which Routh declined. He also stopped taking his medication, citing the zombie-like state it induced.
In early January 2013, Jodi Routh sought help from Chris Kyle. Kyle, a civilian since 2009, was dedicated to assisting veterans with PTSD, having faced his own post-war challenges. He believed in the therapeutic benefits of physical activity and shooting range outings.
In a severe psychotic break, Routh, armed with a knife, barricaded his girlfriend’s apartment door, holding her and her roommate hostage, believing he was protecting them from “the evils of the world.”
Kyle’s children attended the school where Jodi worked. Knowing of his work with veterans, Jodi approached Kyle and asked for his help with Eddie. Kyle was receptive, took Eddie’s number, and promised to call. Weeks later, they met again, and Kyle mentioned his plan to take Routh shooting. At the time, Jodi believed it was a positive step.
This belief was understandable considering the VA’s repeated clearances for Routh upon discharge from inpatient care, deeming him no threat to himself or others. However, subsequent events challenged this judgment.
On January 19, 2013, shortly after Jodi’s conversation with Kyle, Routh experienced a severe psychotic break at his girlfriend Jennifer Weed’s apartment. He barricaded the door with a knife, holding Weed and her roommate hostage, convinced he was protecting them from “the evils of the world.” Police were called, and Routh was hospitalized at Green Oaks Hospital in Dallas.
Green Oaks clinicians diagnosed Routh as both suicidal and homicidal. He exhibited extreme distress, crying and making delusional statements, questioning if he was being recorded as part of “this Mickey Mouse bullshit going on all across America?” A doctor at Green Oaks suspected “first-break schizophrenia,” noting Routh’s paranoia and impulsive violence. They recommended a 5- to 10-day psychiatric hospitalization and prescribed Haldol, Paxil, and Seroquel. On January 21, Routh was transferred back to the Dallas VA.
Eddie Ray Routh during his trial, where his mental state was a central point of contention. (AP/Mike Stone, Pool)
Alarmingly, just three days after admission, the VA prepared to discharge Routh. Jodi protested, feeling her son was still unstable. She requested he remain hospitalized until he could be admitted to a residential PTSD program in Waco. Medical records document her plea to a social worker, who explained Routh needed to follow the standard application process. Despite Jodi’s urgency, the social worker stated Routh would be discharged as his paranoia was no longer evident, and he was deemed neither suicidal nor homicidal.
Unlike Green Oaks, the VA did not consider schizophrenia, an illness that typically manifests in early adulthood and is characterized by delusions and paranoia, as a possible diagnosis. Dr. Saleh suggests that large VA facilities may rely on previous diagnoses, potentially overlooking new or evolving conditions.
The VA attributed Routh’s knife incident to substance abuse, echoing their past explanations for his psychotic episodes. However, Green Oaks records indicated Routh was not intoxicated during that episode. A psychotic break due to substance abuse requires a different treatment approach than a naturally occurring psychotic break, which, according to Dr. Saleh, necessitates more aggressive medication and longer hospitalization.
VA records indicated that during a follow-up visit five days post-discharge, Routh showed no signs of hallucinations or delusions – a fleetingly positive snapshot. The hospital assessed Routh for Mental Health Intensive Case Management but concluded he did not meet the criteria for intensive support, despite his history of suicidal and homicidal thoughts. While his medication dosages were increased, the new prescriptions were not issued until February 2, 2013 – the very day he went to the shooting range with Chris Kyle and Chad Littlefield.
On that fateful morning, Routh and Jennifer Weed had an argument. Weed left their home around 10 a.m., expecting Routh to be there when she returned; he had proposed marriage the night before. Later, Routh’s uncle, James Watson, visited, and they smoked marijuana and drank whiskey.
Chris Kyle and Chad Littlefield arrived to pick up Routh in Kyle’s truck. Routh, without informing his uncle, got into the truck. Jodi was out of town. “If Chris had called me that day, and told me what they were doing,” Jodi said, “I would have said no, it’s a bad idea.”
Driving to the range, Kyle sensed something was amiss with Routh and texted Littlefield, “This dude is straight-up nuts.” Littlefield replied, “He’s right behind me, watch my six.”
They arrived at Rough Creek Lodge, a luxury resort with a shooting range Kyle had helped design. After raising a safety flag, the three men began shooting. Two hours later, an employee discovered their bodies. Kyle was found facedown, shot six times with a .45-caliber pistol. Littlefield was shot seven times with a 9mm Sig Sauer handgun engraved with a Navy insignia. Routh had used Kyle’s own weapons against them.
[Photo illustration: Joel Arbaje. Featured photos courtesy of Jodi Routh and AP]
The question of why was Chris Kyle killed is answered not by a simple narrative of good versus evil, but by a complex interplay of mental illness, potential systemic failures in veteran healthcare, and a tragic sequence of events. Eddie Ray Routh’s actions were undoubtedly his own, but understanding the context of his deteriorating mental state and the missed opportunities for intervention provides a more complete and deeply unsettling answer to the question of why this tragedy occurred. The death of Chris Kyle serves as a stark reminder of the critical need for comprehensive and responsive mental health support for veterans returning from service.
