The morning of Dec. 9, 2004, Chris Armold heard the news on his truck radio: Heavy-metal guitarist "Dimebag" Darrell Abbott had been shot and killed onstage the night before at the Alrosa Villa in Columbus.

"Like a lot of people, I was pretty much in disbelief," said Armold, who describes himself as a "heavy-metal guy" and "a very conservative Republican-leaning guy" from West Alexandria, just west of Dayton.

Abbott, whose signature style propelled the Texas metal band Pantera for 20 years, was playing with his brother, Pantera drummer Vinnie Paul Abbott, in their new band, Damageplan, when Marysville native Nathan Gale walked onto the stage and started firing.

Within three minutes, the former Marine had killed Abbott, audience member Nathan Bray, Alrosa Villa security guard Erin Halk and Damageplan security guard Jeffrey Thompson.

Gale, who wounded three others, was shot and killed by Columbus Police Officer James Niggemeyer.

"What affected me was, after a couple of weeks, it just kind of went away, and it was all about Dimebag," Armold said.

A freelance music journalist and photographer, and a retired U.S. Air Force Security Police master sergeant, he began interviewing family members of the victims; witnesses; Alrosa Villa owners and employees; Columbus police; and Gale's mother, Mary Clark.

"I wasn't really sure where the story was going to take me," Armold said in an interview, "but one night at 3 o'clock in the morning I sat up in bed and I saw the silver lining: 'I get to be the biographer for Erin Halk, Nathan Bray and Jeffrey Thompson.' "

The result -- the 340-page A Vulgar Display of Power: Courage and Carnage at the Alrosa Villa, with more than 240 photos -- will reach stores Saturday.

Tonight and Saturday night, Armold will sign copies of the book.

All proceeds from sales this weekend will support the Anthony Bray College Fund, a charity for the son of Nathan.

Armold spoke about the book from his office in Miamisburg.

 

Q: Many people knew the story. Why did it inspire you to spend a year writing a book about it?

A: One thing was skepticism about the motive. . . . I never had subscribed to that idea "Metal is evil."

There's this perception of a heavy-metal lifestyle, but it's entertainment. It's like being an Ohio State fan: You get your fist in the air, and you have a good time.

You know, Shakespeare and Wagner and Spielberg have some of the darkest stuff out there, but it's the most respected work. Who lives vicariously through that? Very few.

The other thing was Dimebag got killed but so did three other guys. Who were these dudes, and how did they get killed? The more I read about things in the media, the more it appeared that these guys tried to do something. In the midst of all of that horror, there were people who stepped up and tried to help people.

Would I have done that? I don't know.

 

Q: How cooperative was Officer Niggemeyer?

A: Initially, Jim was skeptical, but we got to know each other over a course of a year.

We'd run into each other at rock concerts. I ran into him at a Black Label (Society) show and gave him my business card and said, "The ball's in your court if you want to talk."

I asked him to write the foreword for me. (He did write it.)

I have to tell you, as a former policeman, what Niggemeyer did and what his friends did that night is really remarkable, and it's a great testament to their training.

I think he's the genuine thing. I think the hero tag for him is a curse and blessing: I know he knows he did well, but, at the same time, he had to take somebody's life.

 

Q: Why do you think Nathan Gale's mother agreed to talk to you?

A: I wrote her a letter, and I told who I was and what I was working on. About a week later, I telephoned her.

It was a little bit strained and uncomfortable, but I told her, "I'd like to look into your eyes and let you look into my heart and see that I'm not trying to hurt you or your family."

But I said, "There's nothing that I can write that will rehabilitate his reputation."

He defined himself in those five minutes in the Alrosa Villa.

However, I told her I thought there were some strong lessons we can learn.

 

Q: When you tried to talk to Dimebag's relatives , what response did you get?

A: They declined. I never expected them to talk to me. . . . But in a way, if the Abbotts had been involved in it, it would have changed the way the story was written. I don't think I would have liked that.

I look at it now; some of the stuff is so deep that I don't know where it came from -- as stupid as that sounds.

I'm not a real spiritual person, but I think at times there were some people peeking over my shoulders -- pushing me, in a way.

I wanted it to be something special for the families, and I wanted it to be something to help the legacies of Nathan Bray and Erin Halk and Jeffrey Thompson. I hope their courage inspires some people.

For Mary Clark, I wanted it to be an opportunity to hopefully educate others about paranoid schizophrenia -- when you hear voices and you believe in your heart that it's the real deal, and nobody seems to get it.

I'm not making excuses for the guy; he's a mass murderer. But it has to be a frightening affliction.

 

Q: How much are the owners of the Alrosa Villa to blame for what happened?

A: I tried to find another event where a performer was murdered onstage, and the closest I found was a jazz cat who was killed by his girlfriend.

This was extraordinary and atypical.

There were people who said, "Tear the Alrosa Villa down!" But as I say in the book: "Are you going to tear Ford's Theatre down? Are you going to tear down the Texas School Book Depository?"

abeck@dispatch.com

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• Chris Armold will sign copies of at 6 tonight in the Alrosa Villa, 5055 Sinclair Rd., where the book will be sold (614-885-9125); and 7 p.m. Saturday at Borders, 4545 Kenny Rd. (614-451-2292).