We won!
I was sitting there, talking with some of the other victims' parents when the news came back that the jury was back with a verdict. We were all really surprised because it hadn't been more than ten minutes since they had gone into deliberations. A.J. figures that it must be a court record for fastest decision. I'm inclined to agree with her.
It was amazing to see how well she was coping with having to face this guy again. I guess that she was unafraid because she knew that there were a lot of people to protect her there.
We were all waiting with baited breath when the verdict was read: guilty of assault, kidnapping and attempted murder in A.J.'s case, and seven other counts of murder in the other cases. The only thing I could do was to hug my daughter- the only survivor, tightly to me. I never want to let her go.
When it came time for sentencing, A.J. had her own ideas- instead of putting him to death, she argued, give him life in prison and remind him everyday why. He should be reminded of all the girls he kidnapped and killed, and forced to remember them. I never saw such a sadistic side to her, but I had to agree. I liked her idea.
So did the rest of the victims' families, and evidently, the judge did too, who imposed a sentence of life in prison without parole. As he handed down the sentence, you could see the tears in his eyes as he thought about the victims.
For minutes afterward, all you could hear was the cheering of the spectators and it became a free for all hug-fest in the courtroom.
Hawk decided to offer to take all of the families out to dinner, so we could get to know a little about each other, even though I know A.J. will probably be the main conversationalist, even when I know that she doesn't want to be. She doesn't like bringing attention to herself after what she's been through. I understand.
She meets with Psyche-Out twice a week, and I made sure that I meet with him at least once a week myself. We're slowly getting back to normal.
I often see flashes of A.J. the way she used to be before this all started, and these days, that is a miracle in itself. I know that she'll never be the same, but, as they say, "Hope springs Eternal."
She is now walking by herself with the benefit of braces, but at least she is mobile by herself. I can't tell her how proud I am whenever I see her. She is such a brave and strong girl, so much like her mother.
She went to a sleepover at a friend's house last weekend, and they got to playing around and dyed their hair. With A.J.'s, they bleached it and then colored it. It's now a dark auburn. What's freaky about that is because that was the color of Kit's hair. Sometimes I think that it's Kit standing there in the kitchen, and then it takes me a moment or two to remember that it's my daughter, not my wife.
I'm planning on going up to Seattle next month, because it will have been ten years since the accident took my wife and son, and left me a single father with a daughter to raise. If she wants to go, she's more than welcome, although I know that she doesn't remember what happened.
I was sitting there, talking with some of the other victims' parents when the news came back that the jury was back with a verdict. We were all really surprised because it hadn't been more than ten minutes since they had gone into deliberations. A.J. figures that it must be a court record for fastest decision. I'm inclined to agree with her.
It was amazing to see how well she was coping with having to face this guy again. I guess that she was unafraid because she knew that there were a lot of people to protect her there.
We were all waiting with baited breath when the verdict was read: guilty of assault, kidnapping and attempted murder in A.J.'s case, and seven other counts of murder in the other cases. The only thing I could do was to hug my daughter- the only survivor, tightly to me. I never want to let her go.
When it came time for sentencing, A.J. had her own ideas- instead of putting him to death, she argued, give him life in prison and remind him everyday why. He should be reminded of all the girls he kidnapped and killed, and forced to remember them. I never saw such a sadistic side to her, but I had to agree. I liked her idea.
So did the rest of the victims' families, and evidently, the judge did too, who imposed a sentence of life in prison without parole. As he handed down the sentence, you could see the tears in his eyes as he thought about the victims.
For minutes afterward, all you could hear was the cheering of the spectators and it became a free for all hug-fest in the courtroom.
Hawk decided to offer to take all of the families out to dinner, so we could get to know a little about each other, even though I know A.J. will probably be the main conversationalist, even when I know that she doesn't want to be. She doesn't like bringing attention to herself after what she's been through. I understand.
She meets with Psyche-Out twice a week, and I made sure that I meet with him at least once a week myself. We're slowly getting back to normal.
I often see flashes of A.J. the way she used to be before this all started, and these days, that is a miracle in itself. I know that she'll never be the same, but, as they say, "Hope springs Eternal."
She is now walking by herself with the benefit of braces, but at least she is mobile by herself. I can't tell her how proud I am whenever I see her. She is such a brave and strong girl, so much like her mother.
She went to a sleepover at a friend's house last weekend, and they got to playing around and dyed their hair. With A.J.'s, they bleached it and then colored it. It's now a dark auburn. What's freaky about that is because that was the color of Kit's hair. Sometimes I think that it's Kit standing there in the kitchen, and then it takes me a moment or two to remember that it's my daughter, not my wife.
I'm planning on going up to Seattle next month, because it will have been ten years since the accident took my wife and son, and left me a single father with a daughter to raise. If she wants to go, she's more than welcome, although I know that she doesn't remember what happened.