San Diego Union-Tribune
Source: Wayback availability API
NewsCrime and Public SafetyNewsNews Based on facts, either observed and verified directly by the reporter, or reported and verified from knowledgeable sources.
‘He was my protector’: Daughter of security guard at San Diego mosque remembers her dad as her hero
Families of the other two victims, Nadir Awad and Mansour Kaziha, did not speak, but others at the press conference called them brave heroes whose losses are unfathomable.
Share this:
- Share on X (Opens in new window) X
- Share on Facebook (Opens in new window) Facebook
- Print (Opens in new window) Print
- Email a link to a friend (Opens in new window) Email
- Share on Reddit (Opens in new window) Reddit
By Roxana Popescu | roxana.popescu@sduniontribune.com | The San Diego Union-Tribune and Alex Riggins | alex.riggins@sduniontribune.com | The San Diego Union-TribunePUBLISHED: May 19, 2026 at 6:05 PM PDT | UPDATED: May 22, 2026 at 2:48 PM PDT
To San Diego and the world, Amin Abdullah, 51, is the heroic San Diego Islamic Center security guard who stood between children, teachers and death. He alerted the school of the threat just before he was fatally shot by two San Diego teenagers in what is being investigated as a hate crime.
But to Hawaa Abdullah, Amin Abdullah was Dad. A protector. And a man who modeled how to be a good human, husband, worker, son.
On Tuesday afternoon at a news conference near the mosque, Hawaa was flanked by around a dozen family members, many sobbing, as she recited verses from the Quran about faith and shared memories about her father.
Families of the other two victims, Nadir Awad and Mansour Kaziha, did not speak, but others at the news conference called them brave heroes whose losses are unfathomable.
In her tribute to her father, Hawaa painted a picture of devotion, openness, self-improvement and selflessness.
“He was the best — the absolute best dad in the world. He was my protector,” she said. He was also a good son, she added. “He called his mom every night to check on her.”
Amin Abdullah was open toward all people, regarding them with kindness, his daughter reflected. Muslim, Christian, Jewish, those with no faith, “he didn’t care, he would treat you human to human. He would smile at people he did not know. You can see the happiness, and just who he was as a person, just looking at his face.”
She said her father was always encouraging his children to get educated. He had a high school diploma and wanted more for them.
“Following his teachings, I got my teaching credential last week,” she said. Amin Abdullah did not join the celebration, though, because he was working. He saw the photos and videos after the fact.
As a convert to Islam and a Muslim father, he “taught my brothers how to be young black Muslim men. He was all about education,” she said.
She also shared a memory of an affectionate ritual of sorts they shared, which was now tinged by tragedy.
Hawaa Abdullah described how she would occasionally drive by the mosque and pull up in her car, to “sneak up on him.” It was an amusing custom created by the father and daughter. Amin Abdullah would always spot her car, walk over and let her know: “I saw your car pass by.”
That vigilance, she said, showed that “he took his job seriously. So seriously, to the point, sometimes he didn’t even want to eat. He wanted to save his food till after he left the job, ’cause he was afraid that if he went on his break, something bad would happen.”
Monday’s tragedy proved he was right.
Earlier Tuesday, after having viewed the Islamic Center’s surveillance footage, San Diego Police Chief Scott Wahl said he hadn’t realized just how heroically Abdullah had acted.
Wahl said that upon arriving at the Islamic Center, the two shooters ran past the security guard, likely unaware of his presence.
Abdullah “immediately observed the threat to everybody at the mosque” and began firing at the two shooters, Wahl told reporters. Both suspects returned fire. The security footage showed Abdullah reaching for his radio to initiate lockdown protocols while still engaged in a gunbattle, Wahl said.
“His actions, without a doubt, delayed, distracted and ultimately deterred these two individuals from gaining access to the greater areas of the mosque where as many as 140 kids were within 15 feet of these suspects,” Wahl said. “Tragically, he died in that gunbattle.”
Neighbor, caretaker: heroes
Ramla Sahid, the executive director of the Partnership for the Advancement of New Americans, described Awad and Kaziha, the other two victims, as “brave heroes” and martyrs.
“Our community is deeply grieving right now. We are horrified by the hate and bigotry that fueled this violent act,” she said.
Awad, 57, lived across the street from the center and went there daily to pray. His wife was a schoolteacher there. He rushed to the school “after hearing initial gunshots. We mourn him,” Sahid said.
Kaziha, 78, a husband, father and grandfather, was the center’s caretaker and a vital presence there for decades.
“He was tracking the shooters when he got shot,” Sahid said.
Taha Hassane, the center’s imam, praised all three victims earlier Tuesday in remarks to reporters.
“When he heard shooting, he rushed to do something, to protect,” Hassane said of Awad. “And he joined Mansour Kaziha.”
Hassane was especially close to Kaziha, who had been a part of the Islamic Center since it broke ground 40 years ago — and Hassane’s most reliable congregant.
“He is on the top of my list for people to call … Anything that goes wrong — he was the handyman, he was the cook, he was the caretaker, he was the storekeeper, he was everything,” he said. “I don’t know what I’m going to do at the Islamic Center without his assistance, his daily assistance. We miss him.”
Wahl and Hassane said the two men were hiding in the parking lot and drew the attention of the shooters, who cornered them in the parking lot and killed them.
“They sacrificed their lives to protect the entire community inside the Islamic Center of San Diego,” Hassane said. “They died together.”
By Tuesday evening, a crowd of hundreds came to Lindbergh Neighborhood Park for a vigil. With the mosque set in the background against a setting sun, they heard how the three men died while attempting to save lives on Monday.
As speakers took turns sharing stories, people openly mourned. They held one another — touching their heads together and interlocking their arms — and wiped away tears.
People in the multicultural, interfaith crowd wore hijabs and keffiyeh, and spoke of their shared belief in God, how love was at the center of all their faiths, and said they mourned with the Muslim community.
When a speaker called on the crowd to call for peace, a resounding response in Arabic was heard.
Staff writer Caleb Lunetta contributed to this report.