A Jefferson County grand jury has indicted former Louisville Metro Police officer Nathan Stotts on one count of second-degree manslaughter and one count of reckless homicide in connection with the May 30 death of Martin Nitzken Jr., a 27-year-old Louisville man who was naked, unarmed, and sitting in a roadway when Stotts approached with his service weapon drawn.
Stotts fired a single shot after Nitzken stood up and walked toward him, killing the man at the scene. The grand jury declined to indict Stotts on a murder charge. He faces arraignment June 22 in Jefferson County Circuit Court.
The case puts Louisville policing back under a harsh spotlight, and raises a straightforward question that LMPD's own chief has already answered in blunt terms: when does a naked, stumbling man on a residential street justify deadly force? According to the department's top officer, this wasn't one of those times.
What the body-camera footage shows
Body-camera footage released by LMPD and reviewed by People captures the final moments of the encounter on Louisville's south side. Officers had responded to reports of an assault. Police alleged Nitzken had assaulted three women before leaving the area without clothes.
The footage shows Stotts approaching Nitzken, who had been sitting in the roadway, while holding his service weapon. Nitzken stood up and began moving toward the officer. Stotts repeatedly ordered him to stop.
When Nitzken continued walking in Stotts' direction, Stotts fired once. Nitzken died at the scene.
No information in the public record indicates whether any officer used or attempted nonlethal force before the fatal shot. That gap matters. A man walking, not running, not armed, not clothed, toward an officer is not the same as a lethal threat. The grand jury's indictment suggests at least twelve citizens agreed.
The chief's swift response
LMPD Chief Paul Humphrey moved quickly. At a June 2 news conference, just three days after the shooting, Humphrey announced he had begun the process of terminating Stotts after reviewing body-camera footage, 911 calls, dispatch records, and other preliminary information. He described Nitzken as "naked, stumbling and unarmed."
Humphrey did not hedge. As AP News reported, the chief told reporters plainly:
"Sometimes we have to make decisions to take people's lives, and this was not one of them."
Humphrey said he would have preferred to see nonlethal force used instead. Stotts resigned from the department before the termination process was completed.
That sequence, chief reviews footage, chief moves to fire the officer, officer quits first, tells its own story. When your own department's leadership looks at what you did and concludes it was unjustifiable before a grand jury even convenes, the institutional verdict is already in.
The charges and what they carry
Under Kentucky law, second-degree manslaughter carries a potential sentence of five to ten years in prison. Reckless homicide is punishable by one to five years behind bars. The grand jury's decision to bring both charges, while declining to pursue murder, reflects a judgment that Stotts acted recklessly rather than with intent to kill.
It is not clear whether Stotts has retained an attorney. Court records reviewed by People confirm his June 22 arraignment date in Jefferson County Circuit Court, but no plea has been entered.
Steven Romines, the attorney representing Nitzken's family, welcomed the indictment but said he believes the evidence supported a murder charge. Romines told local outlets WAVE, WDRB, and WLKY that he believes the body-camera footage shows what he described as "extreme indifference to human life."
"Police rarely face any accountability for killing someone. So, the fact that he's charged at all, yeah, that's a welcome change."
That is the family attorney's view. Readers can weigh it against the facts the grand jury had before it.
A department already under scrutiny
Stotts joined LMPD in 2024, according to AP, making him a relatively new officer at the time of the shooting. The department issued a statement after the indictment saying it "respects the judicial process and the Grand Jury's decision."
Louisville's police force has faced sustained public criticism in recent years. The city's name became nationally familiar after the 2020 Breonna Taylor case. That history does not determine what happened on May 30. But it does mean LMPD leadership had every reason to know the stakes of a use-of-force incident, and every reason to ensure officers understood the department's expectations.
Whether Stotts received adequate training, whether department protocols were followed, whether supervisors had any prior concerns about his judgment, none of that is addressed in the public record so far. Those are questions a trial or further investigation may answer.
What the facts demand
Conservatives who back law enforcement, and this publication counts itself among them, do so precisely because we believe in accountability, standards, and the rule of law. Supporting police means supporting good policing. It means expecting officers to meet the enormous responsibility that comes with carrying a badge and a firearm.
The facts here are not ambiguous. A man was naked. He was unarmed. He was sitting in a road. He stood up and walked. He was shot dead with a single round. His own police chief looked at the footage and said this did not warrant lethal force.
That is not anti-police rhetoric. That is the assessment of the officer's own commanding officer, delivered publicly within seventy-two hours.
The grand jury heard the evidence and returned an indictment. The system is working the way it is supposed to work. Stotts is entitled to his day in court, to a presumption of innocence, and to a vigorous defense. Those protections exist for everyone, including officers who may have made a catastrophic error in judgment.
But the three women Nitzken allegedly assaulted deserved a proper arrest and a day in court for their attacker, too. They did not get that. Instead, the suspect is dead, the officer faces felony charges, and the victims of the original assault are left with neither justice nor resolution.
Bad policing does not protect anyone. It fails the public, it fails the badge, and it hands ammunition to every activist who wants to tear the institution down. If the evidence at trial matches what the body-camera footage and the chief's own words suggest, accountability is not optional, it is the price of credibility.
Officers who do the job right every day deserve colleagues who meet the same standard. Nothing less.
