Tragedy on Dorsey Street: What Really Happened to Jonathan Joss?

The tragic death of actor Jonathan Joss has stunned fans and neighbors alike—and left an entire community asking how it came to this. Joss, best known for voicing John Redcorn on King of the Hill, was fatally shot outside his former home in San Antonio, Texas, on Sunday evening, June 1. While early reports suggested the incident may have been rooted in homophobia, new revelations from neighbors suggest a much more complex—and long-standing—conflict.

Long-running neighborhood feud turns deadly for King of the Hill actor in south-side SA

According to San Antonio police, the fatal confrontation was the latest chapter in a years-long feud between Joss and his neighbor, 56-year-old Sigfredo Ceja Alvarez, who has now been charged with murder. Residents of Dorsey Street, many of whom have lived there for years, say they saw this tragedy coming.

Joss, whose full legal name was Jonathan Joss Gonzales, previously lived at a home on the same street until it was destroyed in a fire earlier this year. Even after the fire, he continued to return to the area—often to check his mail or revisit the property. But according to several neighbors, these visits were far from peaceful.

On the day of the shooting, witnesses say Joss was seen walking up and down the street with a pitchfork, yelling loudly. For many in the neighborhood, this wasn’t unusual. Several residents confirmed that Joss had a pattern of walking with weapons while shouting, although the reasons varied—sometimes it was about the fire, sometimes personal frustrations.

“I’ve seen him with a pitchfork, a crossbow, just yelling,” said one neighbor. “We didn’t like it, but we never thought it would end this way.”

The deadly encounter occurred around 6 p.m. on Sunday. Neighbors say Alvarez—who lives just 50 yards away—responded by pulling out a gun and opening fire, killing Joss in his own driveway.

“This didn’t have to happen,” said a woman named Gina, who has lived on Dorsey Street for six years. “We’ve called the city. We’ve called 311. We’ve reported it to arson investigators, to the police. And nothing ever got done.”

Gina isn’t alone. Many residents claim they’ve made repeated calls to law enforcement about both men for years. Reports include disturbances, threats, criminal mischief, shots fired, and even mental health concerns. Some say the feud began long before the fire that destroyed Joss’s home in January 2025.

“It’s been years of threats and weapons,” Gina said. “Both of them had issues. But the system failed. This man should be alive today.”

Though tensions reportedly simmered for years, residents say the two men had been avoiding each other recently. That’s why the shooting came as such a shock. According to police, there is extensive documentation of past incidents—including cell phone videos, 911 calls, and official reports. Still, many neighbors feel the city failed to take the threat seriously.

Police, however, pushed back on claims that they ignored the situation. The San Antonio Police Department says its SAFFE unit—short for San Antonio Fear Free Environment—had been actively involved in trying to mediate the dispute for more than a year. But for those living on the block, the SAFFE unit’s presence didn’t make them feel any safer.

“I’ve got bullet holes in my house,” Gina said. “No one even came to investigate.”

The tragic shooting came just days after Joss made headlines for speaking out at the ATX TV Festival during a panel about the King of the Hill revival. He had stood up, uninvited, and shared that his house had been burned down “because I’m gay,” referencing the arson that destroyed his home. That comment led many to believe his death was a hate crime.

His husband, Tristan Kern de Gonzales, echoed that belief, claiming on Facebook that the shooting stemmed from years of homophobic harassment. But the San Antonio Police Department later issued a statement denying that theory, saying there is no evidence to support that Joss’s murder was related to his sexual orientation.

The investigation remains ongoing, and Alvarez is currently being held on a $200,000 bond. If released, he will be placed under house arrest with GPS monitoring and barred from owning firearms.

Meanwhile, the community continues to mourn. Many who grew up with Joss remember him as the “class clown” at McCollum High School, a funny, loyal man whose life took a tragic turn.

“He was a good person,” a neighbor said. “He just got lost along the way. And now it’s too late.”

As the legal proceedings move forward, the public will no doubt learn more about what led to the deadly encounter. But for now, the question remains: how did a talented actor, once known for making people laugh, end up as the victim of such a preventable tragedy?