In the pre-dawn darkness of October 1, 2022, the city of Portland was grappling with a year of unprecedented violence. That day would prove to be particularly grim, with four homicides recorded in just 24 hours, contributing to what would become the deadliest year on record for the city. One of those lives extinguished belonged to Nicholas Hammann, a 36-year-old man whose path had brought him to an extended-stay motel in the city's northeast corner.
A former Marine who grew up in nearby Ridgefield, Washington, Nicholas was known to his family as a man with a "big heart," someone who, despite his own personal struggles, would give his last twenty dollars to a person in need.
The fatal encounter occurred around 1:30 a.m. in the Wilkes neighborhood, a community in the far northeast of Portland. The area, marked by a mix of residential streets and commercial thoroughfares, had crime rates significantly higher than the national average. It was near the intersection of Northeast 162nd Avenue and Sandy Boulevard that shots rang out, piercing the early morning quiet. When police arrived, they found Nicholas Hammann, who had been shot and killed. The specifics of what led to the shooting remain unknown to the public, a sudden and violent end to a life that had begun with service to his country and was remembered for its generosity.
News of Nicholas's death sent a shockwave of grief through his family. They remembered him not as a statistic in a record-breaking year for homicides, but as a father, a son, and a friend with a memorable sense of humor. His oldest son, standing six feet tall, recalled his father's funny nature and how laughter always filled the room when he was around. His mother, Toni Fletcher, and stepfather, David Fletcher, acknowledged that he had faced challenges in his life, but they emphasized his unwavering kindness and willingness to help others. "He had his struggles," his stepfather said, "but he would give his last penny to help someone else."
As the days turned into weeks, and then months, the investigation into Nicholas's murder continued, but no arrests were made. The case joined the growing number of unsolved homicides in a city struggling to contain the surge in violent crime. On what would have been his 37th birthday, his family and loved ones gathered on the Vancouver waterfront, a midway point between where Nicholas grew up and where he died. They lit battery-operated candles against the rain and shared chocolate and vanilla cupcakes, a small celebration of a life cut short. His mother made a heartfelt plea to the community for anyone with information to come forward, saying, "He's much more than a number or a statistic. He has a lot of people that love him and miss him. I miss him terribly."
The case of Nicholas Hammann's death remains open, a painful question mark for his grieving family. Portland Police Detectives Brad Clifton and Steve Gandy were assigned to the investigation, and their contact information was shared publicly in the hopes of generating leads. Crime Stoppers of Oregon offered a reward of up to $2,500 for information leading to an arrest, a standard incentive in a city overwhelmed by violence. His family's words echo the frustration and sorrow felt by many affected by the city's homicide crisis. "You know that somebody knows who shot Nick," his stepfather stated, a belief that someone holds the key to bringing them a measure of peace. For now, they are left with memories and the lingering pain of a future stolen, fighting to ensure that Nicholas is remembered for the man he was, not for the violent way he died.
