
Pawtucket, Rhode Island – In a horrifying act of targeted family violence that shattered a community and sparked nationwide outrage, 56-year-old Robert Dorgan (who also went by Roberta Esposito) stormed the Dennis M. Lynch Arena during a high school “Senior Night” hockey game on Monday, February 16, 2026, gunning down his ex-wife and adult son before turning the firearm on himself.
Dorgan opened fire in the stands around 2:30 p.m., killing Rhonda Dorgan, 52 (his ex-wife), and Aidan Dorgan, 23 (his son), while critically injuring three others—including Rhonda’s parents (Aidan’s grandparents, both 75) and a family friend. The rampage unfolded in front of terrified players and spectators, including Dorgan’s younger son Colin Dorgan, 17, who was captaining the Blackstone Valley Schools co-op team on the ice at the time. Witnesses described initial confusion—mistaking gunshots for “balloons popping”—before chaos erupted as players barricaded themselves in locker rooms and a brave bystander tackled the shooter from behind, helping end the threat before Dorgan died by suicide.
Pawtucket Police Chief Tina Goncalves confirmed the attack was “targeted” and stemmed from a long-simmering family dispute, exacerbated by Dorgan’s 2021 divorce from Rhonda. Court records reveal bitter conflicts tied to his gender transition—he underwent gender reassignment surgery around 2020—and ongoing family tensions, including threats, eviction attempts, and dismissed charges involving intimidation and assault accusations from in-laws.
But the real rot runs deeper. Photos circulating from Dorgan’s social media show a large Nazi-inspired tattoo on his right bicep: prominent SS lightning bolts framing a white skull and crossbones with glowing red eyes—the infamous Totenkopf (“death’s head”) symbol used by SS concentration camp guards, as confirmed by the Anti-Defamation League. Dorgan frequently flaunted the ink online while voicing support for “white power,” spreading antisemitic rants, racist slurs (including anti-Asian epithets in response to Hitler-praising content), and far-right conspiracies.
Just one day before the massacre, he chillingly posted threats like: “Keep bashing us. but do not wonder why we Go BERSERK” in defense of trans rights, while replying to a Hitler video edit with vile slurs. His online trail—thousands of unhinged posts—reveals a toxic mix of transgender identity advocacy laced with neo-Nazi ideology, hate speech, and warnings of violence. A woman claiming to be his daughter later stated he had “mental health issues” and urged people to trust instincts about “sick” loved ones.
This wasn’t random evil—it was a man unraveling in plain sight, blending extremist symbols and rhetoric with personal grudges. Family members watched a child play hockey while the father who abandoned or tormented them exacted deadly revenge. Colin, the surviving teen athlete, now faces unimaginable trauma; a GoFundMe for him and sibling Ava has raised over $131,000 amid the grief.
The hockey community—players, parents, coaches from Coventry, Johnston, St. Raphael, PCD, North Providence, and North Smithfield schools—remains in shock. One player recounted bunkering down in fear as gunshots rang out.
Crime Vault Magazine pulls no punches: Robert Dorgan was a walking contradiction of hate—transgender yet tattooed with Nazi death symbols, preaching “berserk” retaliation while harboring white supremacist views. His actions didn’t just destroy a family; they exposed how unchecked mental illness, extremism, and unresolved rage can turn a youth sports event into a slaughter.
Authorities continue investigating the full motive, but the evidence is damning: a killer who lived by symbols of genocide, spewed online venom, and ended it all with his own blood on the ice. No excuses, no sympathy—only justice for the victims and answers for a community forever scarred.
If you or someone you know is struggling with mental health, family violence, or crisis, contact the National Suicide & Crisis Lifeline at 988, or local resources. For sexual violence or related trauma support, call 1-800-656-HOPE.