EASTON, N.H. – Mourners at a service for Liko Kenney, who killed a police officer before being fatally shot by a passer-by, remembered him Sunday as a spirited, sometimes troubled young man whose death a week ago could have been prevented.

Kenney, 24, a cousin of Olympic skier Bode Miller, shot and ran over Franconia Police Cpl. Bruce McKay, 48, after a traffic stop for speeding May 11. Another man who happened on the scene killed Kenney using the fallen officer’s gun; the state said the second shooting was justified.

Hundreds gathered in the pouring rain at the family-owned Tamarack Tennis Camp, where Kenney grew up, to share their memories of him.

“Liko was a good-hearted albeit spirited young man coming into his own,” said Paula Wolcott, who led the group in a prayer. “Because of a clash of differences, his life here ended – a sudden and tragic loss of life, leaving us bewildered and heartbroken.”

Like many who spoke, she urged the communities of the close-knit mountain valley to mend the rifts that triggered the violence and find some meaning or purpose from the shootings.

“As we process what happened we could ask, how is what happened a mirror? … What is the healing path? What greater awareness is needed?”

Kenney and McKay had a contentious history and their deaths have divided the towns of Franconia and Easton, where some described McKay as a bully with a badge and others said he was a respectful and considerate officer.

In 2003, Kenney pleaded guilty to assaulting McKay during an arrest. In turn, Kenney’s relatives and friends say he feared McKay. They said McKay had beaten Kenney and the young man was in such fear that he carried a weapon to defend himself.

On the day of the shooting, Kenney reportedly asked McKay to call another police officer after McKay first pulled him over. The attorney general said Kenney disobeyed McKay by speeding away. The shootings happened shortly after, when McKay pushed Kenney’s car off the road to stop him close to the Easton town line.

Kenney’s memorial, called a “celebration of life,” was held on the soccer field of the Kenney and Miller families’ tennis camp, near where his parents were married and three-tenths of a mile from where he and McKay were killed. It was casual and unconventional – a pointed contrast to McKay’s formal police service earlier in the week.

Kenney’s parents, who divide their time between Hawaii and New Hampshire, wore leis. Mourners burned sage, blew on a conch shell, paid tribute to the four directions and shared a Native American blessing. Kenney’s ATV stood next to the tent, festooned with flowers and an “Aloha” sign, as one by one friends and family walked up to share their stories.

They remembered Kenney as independent, fearless and charming – the one who could ease a friend’s pain with a quick word or gesture, but whose anger over perceived injustices also could turn people off.

Only a few mentioned McKay, who had a 9-year-old daughter, by name on Sunday, though many spoke of Kenney’s fear and their regrets for not having done more to help earlier.

“We all have guilt,” said an uncle, Mike Kenney, who said his nephew was so scared he barricaded himself in his house at night.

“Liko was no Charlie Manson,” said another uncle, Bill Kenney. “Liko was a dreamer just trying to get to the age of Aquarius.”