LOS ANGELES — Authorities have arrested the husband of a woman who worked as a housekeeper for Bishop David G. O’Connell in connection with the slaying of the beloved Los Angeles cleric, officials said Monday.
L.A. County Sheriff Robert Luna identified Carlos Medina, 65, as the suspect in the slaying. He did not cite a motive but said a tipster had told authorities that Medina was acting strangely after the killing and claimed that the bishop owed him money.
Luna said detectives connected Medina to the crime from a video that showed a vehicle at the O'Connell home about the time of the killing. Weapons were found at Medina’s home, and Luna said ballistic tests are pending.
O'Connell, 69, was killed Saturday afternoon in the Catholic archdiocese-owned home in Hacienda Heights where he lived alone, authorities said.
Deputies answering a call for a medical emergency shortly before 1 p.m. Saturday found O'Connell. Paramedics pronounced him dead at the scene. A couple who live on the quiet tree-lined street said they heard no gunshot or other unusual noise before the arrival of firefighters and ambulance crews.
A spokesperson for the archdiocese declined to comment on the arrest Monday, saying only that inquiries should be directed to law enforcement.
“They’ll be able to answer your questions about the investigation, which the Archdiocese is cooperating with fully,” the spokesperson said in an email.
L.A. Archbishop José H. Gómez on Saturday at first told parishioners that O'Connell “passed away unexpectedly.” Not until Sunday morning did the Sheriff’s Department release a statement saying the death “is being handled as a murder investigation.”
No mention was made of suspects, and no further details were released.
“We are deeply disturbed and saddened by this news,” the archbishop said in an updated release. “Let us continue to pray for Bishop Dave and his family. And let us pray for law enforcement officials as they continue their investigation into this terrible crime.”
O'Connell served as founder and chairman of the interdiocesan SoCal Immigration Task Force, helping scores of children who entered the United States without adult companions. “For me, it really is a labor of love,” he was quoted in a 2019 article. “This is, I think, what our schools and parishes are all about. Not just for unaccompanied minors but for all our children. There’s an epidemic of hurting children, even the ones who have too much. They feel we’ve abandoned them. And the migrant youths have become a metaphor for our whole society.”
In the 1990s, O'Connell gained a reputation for seeking to bridge relations between residents of riot-torn neighborhoods and local law enforcement after the police beating of Rodney King. L.A. County Sheriff Robert Luna on Sunday called the bishop a “peacemaker” who “had a passion serving those in need while improving our community.”
“My heart grieves after learning of the murder,” Luna posted to social media.
Peter Dreier, an urban policy scholar and author of “The Next Los Angeles: The Struggle for a Livable City,” remembered O’Connell as a progressive community organizer who put his personal charm to work for the poor and disenfranchised.
“I was always impressed with Father Dave’s street smarts, compassion, and willingness to challenge people in power around a variety of issues, including immigrant rights, housing justice, racism, and public safety,” Dreier wrote in a Facebook post. “He saw the church as a vehicle for social justice.”
Parishioners at St. Frances Xavier Cabrini Church in South Los Angeles, where O'Connell served for more than a decade, recalled a man with humor, a deep commitment to social justice and dedication to serving the Black and Latino communities. They were stunned and struggling to make sense of the violence that claimed the life of someone whose calling was rooted in peace and love.
Jarlath Cunnane, now the pastor at St. Cornelius Catholic Church in Long Beach, met O’Connell more than 50 years ago at All Hallows College in Dublin, where they both studied to become priests.
They bonded over shared interests — both studied English while at university — and Cunnane quickly came to appreciate O’Connell’s ability to deliver the perfect joke or quick-witted comment in almost any situation.
Both men eventually moved to California, and their friendship grew deeper with the years. In 2020, when Cunnane was hospitalized for several weeks with a blood infection, O’Connell visited him almost every day. Cunnane was on an oxygen machine at the time and had a terrible taste in his mouth, he recalled, so O’Connell almost always brought him a kombucha drink when he visited.
“He had a great capacity for friendship,” he said.
The two friends met up for dinner on Thursday to catch up, Cunnane said, and they discussed plans for Cunnane to visit some parishes in O’Connell’s region in the near future. His longtime friend had not expressed any worries about his safety, Cunnane said, so he was stunned when he learned that he’d been shot to death.
“Who on Earth would ever want to do this?” he asked.
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Times staff writer Michael Finnegan contributed to this report.
