The quiet hum of a Tuesday morning in Des Moines was shattered on April 8, 2025, when a single gunshot echoed through the pristine halls of the newly built federal courthouse at 111 Locust Street. By the end of the day, a community of legal professionals and a grieving family would be left to grapple with the loss of Dan Velasco, a U.S. probation officer whose life ended in an act that has left more questions than answers. Velasco, a nine-year veteran of the U.S. Probation Office, died from a self-inflicted gunshot wound in a restricted area of the courthouse, a place meant to symbolize justice and order. His death has cast a somber shadow over the building, still fresh from its recent opening, and has sparked a wave of reflection among those who knew him and the broader public seeking to understand the tragedy.
The incident unfolded just after 8:30 a.m., when Des Moines police received a call reporting a shooting inside the courthouse. Officers arrived swiftly, navigating the secure corridors to find Velasco, a man well-known to many in the tight-knit court community, suffering from a grievous injury. Emergency responders rushed him to a nearby hospital, where medical staff fought to save his life. Despite their efforts, Velasco passed away later that afternoon, leaving behind a legacy of service and a void that colleagues described as profound. The Des Moines Police Department, working alongside federal authorities, has launched an investigation to piece together the circumstances that led to this devastating moment. Details remain scarce as officials proceed with sensitivity, mindful of the emotional weight carried by those who worked alongside Velasco.
In a statement released that afternoon, the U.S. District Court for the Southern District of Iowa mourned the loss of a man they called a valued member of their “court family.” Velasco’s nine years of service had earned him respect and admiration among peers, a testament to his dedication in a role that often requires balancing compassion with the demands of justice. Probation officers like Velasco play a critical part in the judicial system, guiding individuals under supervision as they navigate the path to rehabilitation while ensuring public safety. His work, though often unseen by the broader public, was integral to the courthouse’s mission, making his sudden absence all the more jarring.
The new federal courthouse, a modern structure designed to serve the Southern District of Iowa, had been a source of pride for the region. Its sleek design and advanced facilities were intended to mark a new chapter for the administration of justice in Des Moines. Yet, on this day, it became the scene of an unexpected tragedy, one that unfolded in an area off-limits to the public, reserved for staff and officials. Police have emphasized that the incident posed no threat to those outside the restricted zone, but the emotional reverberations have reached far beyond the building’s walls. Sergeant Paul Parizek, a spokesperson for the Des Moines Police Department, spoke to the closeness of the courthouse staff, likening their bond to that of a family. “It’s a tight crew up there,” he said, underscoring the challenge of investigating a case so deeply personal to those involved.
As the investigation continues, authorities have pledged to handle the matter with care, respecting the privacy of Velasco’s loved ones while seeking clarity for a shocked community. The U.S. Probation and Parole office in Washington, D.C., has taken the lead, collaborating with local police to ensure a thorough review. For now, the courthouse stands as a place of both purpose and pain, its staff processing their grief together while the public watches from a distance, moved by the loss of a man who served quietly but impactfully. Velasco’s death is a stark reminder of the human struggles that can lurk beneath the surface, even in spaces dedicated to order and resolution, leaving all who hear his story to reflect on the fragility of life and the weight of unspoken burdens.