Nearly every Friday about midnight, when Chai Soua Vang finished working the second of his two jobs as a truck driver, he would head north to 40 acres he'd bought near Mora, Minn.

Surrounded by birch and oak trees, he would stay at his cabin until Monday, unwinding in his oasis and escaping the demands of life: juggling two jobs, paying two mortgages, providing for 10 children -- including a newborn -- and assisting his extended family.

Two weeks ago, with Minnesota's deer hunting season winding down and Wisconsin's just starting, Vang headed 80 miles east of his Kanabec County cabin.

He might never leave Wisconsin again.

Vang, 36, is jailed and charged with killing six hunters and injuring two others after a confrontation in the woods that turned violent Nov. 21.

Relatives, friends and co-workers from Minnesota to California had kind words about Vang, but his life story is more complex. Vang is praised as a caring brother and grandson, yet California records suggest he had defaulted on child support for three of the 10 children he has by four women.

He is described as a role model for Hmong students, but has had previous brushes with the law.

Minneapolis police who were called to Vang's home on Dec. 24, 2001 say he admitted to waving a handgun and threatening to kill his wife, though he was not charged with a crime. Co-workers recall him as a hard-working truck driver, though he had run-ins with hunting and fishing authorities.

Shock in Stockton

On the second floor of a shabby apartment building near downtown Stockton, Calif., Vang's grandfather answered the door last week in bare feet, a traditional black robe and a cap. Sitting on a stool and speaking through an interpreter, Nou Cher Vang, 77, recalled washing Chai Vang with warm water the day he was born in 1968 in a mountainous region of northwest Laos.

"I cannot hold my tears," the grandfather said.

Chai Vang's father died four years ago, and Nou Cher Vang was depending on his grandson to help him in his final years.

"I had hoped he would bury me," he said. "I don't want to eat or drink because I feel so emotional. I don't know what to do. He is locked up. I don't have money, no transportation. Now if I die, I would die like an animal; no one is going to pray for me."

He remembered his grandson as the smartest of his grandchildren and the one who best understood the needs of the family. When Chai Vang visited his grandfather once and saw no food, he returned with a 100-pound bag of rice.

"What I believe, in my heart, this person is decent," he said. "If I could talk to him, I'd say: 'Why did you do that? I am your grandfather.' I would shout at him: 'Why did you do that?' "

Chai Vang's cousins in Stockton, Long Vang, Pao Vang and Chue Vang, mixed disbelief with memories and anecdotes. They recalled growing up in Laos in a mountain community named Phun Hao, with 100 families, no electricity, plumbing or schools. The children's fathers farmed when they weren't fighting with the CIA against Communist forces, blocking the Ho Chi Minh Trail during the Vietnam War.

"We'd play soldier and we'd use bamboo to make a gun," Long Vang said. "We'd hide in the bush and go bang, bang, bang."

The extended family left Laos in 1975 and settled in a refugee camp in Thailand. Chai Vang's family moved on to St. Paul in 1980 and to Stockton in 1985. Chai Vang would return to St. Paul in 1999, after serving in the California National Guard, working as a teacher's aide, then becoming a long-haul truck driver to make more money.

Chue Vang, 27, remembers Chai Vang working at the Lao Family Community Center in Stockton, coaching kids in soccer and karate.

"He used to be a role model," Chue Vang said. "He was a mentor for us at the time."

Pao Vang, 29, sells insurance in Stockton. He recalled playing in a soccer tournament at age 15 that his older cousin helped organize.

"A bunch of young people tried to attack me and my friends," Pao Vang said, recalling how his "patient" cousin Chai came over and told them not to fight. "He said: 'We don't believe in violence.' He's just a laid-back person."

Now they see pictures of Chai Vang in prison orange, and it's hard to reconcile those images with their memories.

"We are devastated at what happened," Chue Vang said. "I wouldn't expect it to happen to Chai. He seemed to be a reasonable person. It makes us all look bad -- but we really don't know what happened other than it has a negative impact on the Hmong community."

Among those most stunned by the news of Chai Vang's arrest was Bee Vang, the Lao/Hmong bilingual outreach liaison for the Stockton Unified School District.

He remembered how Chai Vang started the Hmong Club at Franklin High School in Stockton so students would have a voice, and how he became its first president.

"He was highly respected as a role model and leader of students," said Bee Vang, who's not related to Chai. Bee Vang said Chai Vang graduated from Franklin in 1987, attended San Joaquin Delta College, a community college in Stockton, helped provide security at the annual Hmong New Year celebration and captained the community soccer team.

"He just had a big heart for the community," said Bee Vang, 34. "I was totally shocked when I saw it on the news. I couldn't believe it happened. He was a very reasonable guy. Even in high school, he was the most mature Hmong student."

A sister's story

Mai Vang, 39, has been at her brother Chai's side since childhood in Sayaboury Province in Laos. Mai is the oldest of six children; Chai is the eldest of three sons.

As their parents farmed rice and corn amid hillsides and valleys, the brother and sister were inseparable.

"He and Mai were together all the time," said Her Vang, another cousin who lives in Minneapolis.

When the extended family fled the Vietnam War for a refugee camp in Thailand, Mai remembered how Chai fell in love with hunting, chasing after the elders to shoot birds and squirrels with them.

"Ever since we were little, we have been together because he was the next child in the family," Mai Vang said through an interpreter.

She recalled how, when the family first emigrated to St. Paul in 1980, she and her brother delivered Pioneer Press newspapers before school. When they moved to Stockton after five years in Minnesota, her brother always tried to be a leader, volunteering at a community center and doing whatever was asked around the house, she said.

"He always shared what he had with me," said Mai Vang, who lives in Blaine and works on a medical-parts assembly line. "Ever since we had our own families and didn't have a chance to come and visit one another, he would always take the time to call and see how I was doing."

During his roughly 14 years in Stockton, Chai Vang spent six years in the California National Guard, earning a sharpshooter's badge, and drove a truck across 48 states. Mai Vang said the family returned to Minnesota in 1999, seeking a lower cost of living and less demanding work. When their father, Cher Vang, died four years ago, Mai's brother was there for her.

"I cried and missed my father very much, but we knew we had Chai as the oldest son in the family, so he would lead us," she said. "All of a sudden he is in this situation, and it seems like hope is dying."

She began to sob when she thought of the victims' families in Wisconsin and her trip last Sunday to visit her brother in the Sawyer County jail.

"We understand the pain and hardship of the families that have lost loved ones," Mai Vang said. "We know it is very hard for them. But it is very hard for us as well to process all this pain and heartache. We send our condolences to the families, and all I can do is ask God to be with us all."

When she visited her brother in jail, Mai asked him what had happened and why he didn't just come home after he was told he was on private property.

"He told me a man started yelling at him and called his friends on a walkie-talkie and they surrounded him," she said. "They yelled and scolded him and cursed him racially."

In a story that contradicts what the two survivors told police, Chai Vang told his sister that he glanced back over his shoulder after he began to walk away.

"He told me a bullet flew by his head and if he hadn't turned around, it would have hit him in the back of the head," she said. "That's why he took his gun and shot it."

She asked why he didn't then leave before shooting seven others.

"He said there were just too many people and he had to do what he did to survive," she said. "All I know is that he is a very good brother and he would not just want to kill anyone."

Precursor of rage?

She said her brother has no history of mental health issues. Court records show one violent outburst, some complicated child support issues and a few run-ins with authorities over hunting violations.

On Christmas Eve of 2001, Minneapolis police responded to a 911 call from two screaming women. When they arrived, Chai Vang explained that he "got out of hand" during an argument with his longtime wife, Say Xiong, about their impending breakup. The couple married as teenagers in a ceremony arranged by their families and had five children. Xiong had grown tired of his long truck-driving absences.

He told police he waved a handgun and threatened to kill her before the women called 911. After spending Christmas in jail, he was released and no charges were filed.

Say Xiong now lives in Milwaukee with five of Chai's children.

After the breakup, he had a short-term relationship with a woman named Zia Yang that produced a baby named Ka Bao in May 2003, according to state Health Department birth records. About a year ago, Chai Vang began courting Deu Lee Khang. Family members said they were married in a Hmong ceremony that is not recognized by state authorities. Khang even bought some land adjoining Vang's near Mora. The couple's daughter was born two months ago in a Maplewood hospital.

Documents in Stockton reviewed by the Star Tribune show Chai Vang was found to have defaulted on child support for three children of Youa Lee, now ages 8, 5, and 2. All told, records suggest Chai Vang has 10 children with four women.

Chai Vang's run-ins with wildlife officers include a 2001 fine of $328 for possessing 93 crappies over the fishing limit. The next year, while hunting with Ber Xiong in Green Lake County near Madison, Wis., he was ticketed for trespassing. When Vang failed to appear in court or pay the $244 fine, an arrest warrant was issued.

Ber Xiong, who lives in St. Paul and has known Chai Vang since they were neighbors in north Minneapolis in 2000, said they had permission to hunt on a farm owned by a relative, but a neighbor called authorities when she heard gunshots. They told a deputy they had permission to hunt there, Xiong said, but the deputy told them they could explain that in court. Xiong paid the fine; Vang never did.

Shaman rituals

About five years ago, Chai Vang began performing shaman rituals, according to Xiong, who would join him at the ceremonies. He explained that Hmong shamans are blessed with special gifts, including the ability to speak to those "on the other side," curing ailments and seeing into the future during trance-like rituals.

"He has an altar and a special bench and jumps up and down and sends messages back and forth in a different language," Xiong said, through an interpreter. "He would always spend about an hour talking to the family and explaining what he would do and what it meant. I would hold him and make sure he didn't fall."

Xiong hadn't seen Vang for a couple of years, but bumped into him three weeks ago at a funeral in Maplewood.

"We chatted about life, work and hunting and he said he was planning to head up to Wisconsin," Xiong said. "He had a very decent haircut, nice clothes and was very friendly and seemed as stable a person as ever."

Her Vang, the cousin and hunting partner who has lived near Chai Vang in Laos, Thailand, Stockton and Minneapolis, said he last saw him a couple of weeks before the Wisconsin shooting.

Her Vang said Chai was never happier than when he was at his place near Mora, where he'd often invite his relatives to enjoy the peace and calm.

"Absolutely, life was good," Her Vang said.

Now his family has left their home in St. Paul, fearing a backlash. Mai Vang, his sister, has received calls threatening Chai Vang's family.

"It's all so hard to understand," said Ber Xiong, "what triggered a perfectly decent person to become involved in such a tragedy."

The writers are at curt.brown@startribune.com, who reported from St. Paul and

randy.furst@startribune.com, who reported from Stockton, Calif.