When Feng Feng Lee saw a strange man with closely cropped white hair at her church, she didn’t think much of it.
Hours later, the man opened fire at a luncheon, wounding five parishioners and killing a 52-year-old man who had accompanied his mother to church.
Now, Lee has flashbacks about that day a year ago at Irvine Taiwanese Presbyterian Church in Laguna Woods. Her husband, a doctor, checking on the injured as they cried out in pain. The agonized words from the mother of the man who died charging at the gunman — she did not want her son to be a hero but only to be there with her.
Lee can’t shake the guilt that she should have done more.
“We didn’t prevent the stranger from coming. … The bad guy pretended to be one of us,” said Lee, 77, who on Sunday attended a gathering at the church to mark the one-year anniversary of the shooting.
Lee and most of the hundreds of others at Sunday’s commemoration spoke in the Taiwanese dialect, as they typically do during church services. One parishioner wore a yellow hat that read “Yes! Taiwan.” The choir sang “Hometown at Dusk,” a Taiwanese song from the 1950s popular with those living overseas and those supporting an open declaration of the island’s independence.
The gunman, according to prosecutors, hated them for that.
On Sunday, some said their belief in God had been shaken, but many said that grappling with the tragedy has renewed their faith.
“I don’t think anyone’s scared,” said Tony Chen, a 76-year-old church elder.
David Wenwei Chou, 69, has been charged in both state and federal court with murder, attempted murder and hate crimes, with prosecutors alleging that he targeted the church because of the congregants’ Taiwanese national origin.
He pleaded not guilty to the state charges and has yet to make a court appearance in the federal case.
Chou was born in Taiwan and was from a family with recent roots in China, which considers the island democracy part of its territory. According to local law enforcement, Chou left notes in his car opposing Taiwanese independence.
Jerry Chen, 73, said he is in touch with the mother of John Cheng, who died in the shooting, which makes it hard for him to forgive Chou.
“She blamed herself and said, ‘How am I going to face my daughter-in-law?’ ” Chen wrote in a commemorative book recently published by the church.
She said she should not have tried to get her son to go to church with her that day, Chen wrote.
Of Chou, Chen wrote: “His hatred for Taiwan and Taiwanese people led him to live in sorrow. God is love, and the Devil is hatred. Because of hatred, the shooter became a disciple of Devil.”
On Sunday, Billy Chang, the church’s former longtime pastor, spoke of the “confusion” of emotions in a recorded video from Taiwan. He was being honored at the luncheon last May when Chou began shooting. After Cheng’s doomed attempt to stop Chou, Chang struck Chou with a chair and hogtied him with the help of others.
“I am very grateful and full of gratitude, but on the other hand, I often cry, feeling sad, heartbroken and regretful,” Chang said.
Another speaker, Carol Lin, recalled being at a new year’s celebration in Taiwan earlier this year and hearing celebratory firecrackers that reminded her of the shooting.
“Rain and tears were all together,” Lin said.
Peter Chen, a representative from the Formosan Assn. for Public Affairs, which advocates for Taiwanese independence, said Cheng, who was a sports medicine doctor, represented the “true spirit” of the Taiwanese people.
“The heroic action of Dr. Cheng is not only honorable but also holy. His bravery truly represents the Taiwanese value of peace-loving,” Chen said. “Dr. Cheng, not only will you not be forgotten, but you will forever inspire us.”
The church’s full name is Irvine Taiwanese Presbyterian Church, but it rents space from Geneva Presyterian Church in Laguna Woods. A week after the May 15 shooting, parishioners returned to worship and have found solace there ever since.
But only last month did they resume their post-service luncheons in the room where the shooting happened — it had been too difficult to share a meal there.
Over lunch, they once again spoke of their lives and their families. Attendance at the church has been growing and remains “very healthy,” said pastor Albany Lee.
But like many immigrant congregations, the members are aging. Lee wonders how the next generation will reshape the church — perhaps they will speak Mandarin, not Taiwanese.
“I cannot foretell the church’s future,” Lee said. “But I will be here for a while.”
Special correspondent M. Benson Huang contributed to this report.
This story originally appeared on LA Times