Was It Worth It?

The defendant in the triple murder trial was found guilty on all 10 counts of aggravated murder this morning, which carries the death penalty in Oregon. 

Here are the main points the prosecution used to convict Ricardo Serrano; every one of these is circumstantial evidence, which when combined, made a more than adequate case. There was little direct evidence in this case.

1.  a paper w/ the victim's (Melody) live-in's (Mike) license number and car description was found in the defendant's (Ricardo) car
2.  Ricardo called in sick to work at 6:01 a.m. the morning after the murders (which happened about 9:35 the previous evening)
3.  Ricardo parked his truck two blocks from home when he returned home after the murders [he didn't want neighbors to be able to pinpoint a time he returned home]
4.  the murder weapon was found at Ricardo's brother's house in Beaverton
5.  Ricardo lied to police saying his brother lived in Mexico [he didn't want them to find murder weapon at brother's house]
6.  a 380 spent shell casing was found at Ricardo's house [most of the shell casings were removed from murder scene by murderer]
7.  Ricardo's shoes matched a shoe print found at the murder scene
8.  Melody's computer was found in Ricardo's garage
9.  Ricardo was seen in his vehicle w/ this computer
10.  Ricardo's cell phone was repeatedly used in the area of the murders for 10-ish minutes directly preceding the crime. Soon after the murder his cell phone was used in the vicinity of his own house (it's an 11 minute drive from Melody's house to Ricardo's house). The next morning before Mike returned from his night shift at work, Ricardo's cell phone was again repeatedly used in the area of Melody's house; also, the phone was used near Ricardo's brother's house soon before and soon after the murders (murder weapon belonged to brother). Before the murders his cell phone was also used in the area where Mike was employed

I also find it interesting that Ricardo, after calling work to say he wasn't coming in that day, spent that whole day driving around Beaverton, Cedar Hills and nearby areas, then showed up at home at 4:20 p.m., the usual time he would have come home from work. His wife thought he had been at work all day [cell phone tracing showed where his phone was used all day]--why would he have acted this way?

Ricardo did not testify in his own defense. The defense never tried to create an alibi for Ricardo. The defense's main points were that there were no fingerprints or DNA from the defendant found in the victim's house, and no blood or fibers found in Ricardo's vehicle that could tie him to the crime.

Ricardo certainly got his revenge on Mike for having an affair with his wife, and I wonder how Ricardo would answer the question, 'was it worth it?'

http://www.oregonlive.com/washingtoncounty/index.ssf/2010/02/jury_finds_ricardo_serrano_gui.html

What Happens When a Butterfly Flaps its Wings

My last post was about the murder trial of a man accused of killing three members of a local family. I’ve attended several sessions of the murder trial. Every day a slender Vietnamese man wearing a gray suit and a curly jet-black mullet attends the trial. He is the live-in of the female victim, Melody, and father figure to her two sons, also victims.

I got to thinking about this man, known as Mike. He is not to be blamed for the murders in any way. He did not plan the killings, nor did he pull the trigger. He did not live a wild lifestyle or associate with dangerous people. But his actions placed his family at risk in a way he never anticipated, and he naively set in motion a chain of events that culminated in a terrible tragedy. I say naively, because he certainly did not intend his selfish personal indulgence to lead to the deaths of people he cared about.

Mike had an affair with a co-worker. Maybe that was ok in his thinking. After all, he wasn’t married to Melody, and so it’s not like there was a formal commitment to her. I don’t know the rules for those kinds of relationships. But, his cohort in the affair, Melinda, was married. And with her hot-headed husband Ricardo, the family with five young children led dysfunctional lives, living in filth and disarray, and going through bankruptcy. He had every right to be livid when he discovered her affair, then he became irrational after learning his wife was pregnant with this other man’s child. In short, Ricardo stalked his wife to discover her companion, then stalked him, then meticulously planned and executed the triple murder of Mike’s family.

Mike had the devastating experience of walking in on the murder scene (which was part of Ricardo’s plan) and in the three-plus years since, I am sure he has suffered to the nth degree. He is attending the trial daily, has heard the replay of his panicked 911 call, and has been repulsed by ghastly photographs of the murder scene.

Obviously, he would have lived his life more prudently if he could have foreseen the disastrous result of his secret life. Perhaps he has found solace in his family memories. Most of us don't pay such a huge price for our poor judgment. We must take careful thought to consider the end result before the butterfly flaps its wings, because once events are set in motion they can't easily be stopped.

NOTE:  On Thursday, February 25th about noontime, the defense rested its case. The jury is now  deliberating.

A Murder in the Neighborhood

This week I have spent part of several days attending a murder trial at our Washington County Courthouse. Ricardo Serrano (age 34) is on trial for killing Melody, Steven (age 15), and Jimmy Dang (age 13). Melody was in her late 30s and the mother of the teenage boys. The victims lived in our neighborhood, though we didn’t know them. They kept to themselves and the only one of the three I ever saw was Steven, waiting at the high school bus stop in the morning. Other neighbors were slightly acquainted with Jimmy but none seem to have known Melody or her live-in, Mike.

The night of the murder Mike went off to work about 9 p.m. When he returned at 6 a.m. he found his family shot to death. I recall hearing helicopters flying over our house about 6:15 that morning, and figured there had been a serious accident nearby. I got up and checked the internet and found the breaking report of a triple murder in my neighborhood. The streets around our area were blocked off by police vehicles and yellow police tape was everywhere. There must have been 40 official vehicles of various types from surrounding jurisdictions doing whatever they do.

The sleazy, sordid story goes like this:

Melody’s live-in, Mike, was having an affair with a co-worker named Melinda.

Melinda’s husband, Ricardo, found out and began stalking his own wife to discover the man’s identity. Melinda and Ricardo have five children.

Melinda informed Ricardo that she was pregnant with Mike’s child.

Ricardo decided the best course of action was to get back at Mike by wiping out his family. He watched until Mike left for work, then (allegedly) burst in and shot the three family members. Ricardo returned to the area the next morning either to watch Mike enter the house and find the bodies, or to kill him as well.

Melody had online relationships with other men, including one in Florida with whom she was speaking on the phone when she was gunned down.

Next week I’ll detail the evidence against Ricardo. By the way, the victims are Vietnamese and the accused is Hispanic.

An Unexpected Trip to Cabo San Lucas!

 the Walkers at Cabo

I never planned to go on a cruise and truthfully, never cared about doing so. Our vacations usually consist of grueling activities like sightseeing all day every day hardly eating or drinking or sleeping, or, hiking and other outdoor ventures all day every day hardly eating or drinking or sleeping, or, visiting family and doing all of the above too. So much we want to see and do, and so little time.

We were recently invited on a cruise with all of Craig’s siblings and their spouses, and who wouldn’t want to join up with that! A four-day cruise, it would dock for a day at Catalina Island and a day at Ensenada, Mexico. We boarded the Carnival Paradise at Long Beach on January 18, just as reports of severe major storms were coming in. Because of the weather it was announced that our itinerary would change to sail directly south to Cabo San Lucas (40 hours) where the weather would be better. There was an audible cheer from the passengers. We stood on deck as the ship left the harbor accompanied by a pilot boat, and before long we were out on the sea. I loved showing up for a nice dinner that night without lifting a finger.

The ship rolled quite a bit on the way to Cabo but some miles from there a straight line in the sky marked the end of the clouds and storm, and the beginning of sun and sparkling seas. We watched whales spouting and arcing. On shore we hired a guide/ driver to take us on a tour of the area, and part of that included a short boat trip out to the arches area. I enjoyed seeing Cabo’s bountiful tropical vegetation and azure seas and lovely, classy residential areas.

On the trip back the ship was tossed more severely than before, even diving into troughs in the waves. I got sick on the last night for about 6 hours. As we disembarked back in Long Beach a crew member told us that some of the engines had quit during the storm and we came close to needing a rescue.

Other than the sea-sickness I enjoyed the company, the scenery, the entertainment (Craig singing karaoke), and having three meals a day without effort. Would I do it again? Yes, if the price was rock-bottom as this one was. You can’t arrange the weather but you can enjoy a cruise in spite of what nature throws at you.

An Early Sign of My Future Senility

From 1977-1978 our family lived on the military base in China Lake, California, where Craig worked at the Naval Weapons Center. He helped design Sidewinder Missile (I guess it can be mentioned now, even though it was top secret then).

Every week I made a trip to the public library to check out fat novels and return the stack from the previous week. I had this habit of setting the books on top of the car while buckling my baby into his car seat. Then I would grab the books and set them on the front seat. Except for this one time, when I forgot they were up there.

I happily cruised away from the library down Ridgecrest Blvd., the town’s main street, at the 25 mph speed limit. What a grand sight I must have been that sunny day, with the breeze ruffling my hair, and my elbow resting on the fully-open driver's window, looking like I had the world by the tail. Except there was a stack of library books on top of my car.

I turned left into the base and stopped at the guard shack where a handsome young uniform checked my ID. He stared at me intently (was I not the foxiest chick he’d seen all day?) but he never said a word, then waved me into the base. At home in the driveway I got out to unbuckle the baby and my eye caught something on top of the car. For cryin' out loud! I had left the books on top of the car and every one of them was still there just like I had left them! And that guard had said nothing! He hadn't thought I was foxy, just a major idiot. He must have had a jovial time over a beer at the mess hall that night, telling the story of that wacky mom who cruised Ridgecrest with a stack of books on top of her car.

Ups & Downs of Bunion Surgery

My Mom had her first bunion surgery when I was in about the 6th grade (1966). She had been in misery foot-wise for decades. I remember her struggle with those old-fashioned wooden crutches and the hideousness of her feet with their new set of personal railroad tracks. My strongest memory though is the way she guarded her feet like they were Fort Knox. Whether she was walking or sitting we kids could only get so close before she shooed us away. Apparently the pain was so extreme that she couldn't tolerate the thought of her feet being stepped on by her little darlins, even after a few months had passed. 

So, I swore I'd never do bunion surgery, never go under the knife for the sake of painful bunions. Over the years mine enlarged and I discovered new ways to lesson the misery of being on my feet. Sensible nannie shoes, when I could find them, were a lifesaver. Until that didn't work anymore. When my bunions progressed I started stretching the nannie shoes to fit, and then when they got bigger I put layers of cushioned bandaids and moleskin and even foam padding over the bunions.  When that was no longer enough, I looked into the very surgery I once resolved never to have.

And here I am 8 weeks post-radical bunion surgery. It's been a slow, sometimes tough recovery, marked by milestones of relief. After two weeks the pain went from all-consuming to very manageable. On Christmas Eve, the most special gift was taking my first shower in five weeks. Sitting in a camp chair while the hot water ran over me was heavenly.

At the almost seven-week point I hit bottom. My foot was swelling badly from edema so walking without crutches was not even on the radar. Finally the doc recommended physical therapy and I broke down in the PT's office. Then I came home and promptly tumbled down the stairs. Thinking I had broken my healing foot, I laid at the bottom wailing in my own personal pity party. 

Diligently employing physical therapy has been the greatest thing though. To know I have the power to help my foot helps me see the end of the road. The PT gave me a pressure sock that fits tightly on my foot and it feels wonderful while holding down the swelling. I have labored diligently in PT even though some of the exercises give me the willies (like massaging the scar tissue--hard). On Thursday I experienced the most wonderful thing--she showed me how to make my right foot take walking steps again. And now I can put weight on that foot and even stand without crutches for a while. My foot looks more normal instead of like an inflated balloon, and on Thursday I was able to put a shoe on it for the first time in two months.

But you know the biggest plus of all?  That ugly knobby painful bunion is gone forever!

Book Harvest 2009

 Most of the books I read this year were recommended by someone else--either Bridget, Craig, The Oregonian, or Book Group.  There were only a few disappointments.  The lineup of fiction and non-fiction was 10 fiction to 16 non-fiction, which is more fiction than the usual for me. 

The bin Ladens (Coll)--NF; delves into ObL's extended family and points out that ObL is an outcast in certain parts of his own family; a newer book called Growing Up bin Laden is on my list for this year

Lone Survivor (Luttrell)--NF; you couldn't make up a thrilling yet tragic book like this but be warned about language

Found--F; strange tale of a plane full of babies; intriguing but weird at the same time

Red Sky in Mourning (Ashcraft)--almost pointless NF story about a man lost at sea in a storm, written by his surviving wife; it should have been shorter; don't confuse w/ an excellent coming of age story called Red Sky at Morning

The Guernsey Literary and Potato Peel Society (Shaffer)--F; loved it and wish there was a sequel

The Hunger Games (Collins)--F; imaginative, suspenseful and well-written work about a society that annually sends two of its teenagers to a gladiator-style exhibition; stand alone first-in-a-series

Mornings on Horseback (McCullough)--NF; who knew Teddy Roosevelt became the accomplished person he did against such great odds?

A Long Way From Home (Brokaw)--NF; Tom Brokaw's youth; I say he was meant to achieve great things

Follow Me Down (Foote)--F; Civil War historian Shelby Foote's novel about nothing; I didn't care for it much

Shiloh (Foote)--F; Foote is in his element here when he describes a scene of dead and wounded as barrels of God's creation mistakes dumped out onto the battlefield [he says it more eloquently]

Andrew Jackson: His Life and Times (Brands)--NF; re: T. Roosevelt above; who knew a man with a lousy life could take care of our national business?

A. Lincoln (White)--NF; what doesn't he say about honest Abe?  Didn't know he abhorred slavery from childhood

Ablaze (Read)--NF; as bad as Chernobyl was, we're lucky it wasn't worse; can thank some who gave their lives to get the plant under control

In Plain Sight (Smart)--NF; Elizabeth Smart story thoroughly covered by her uncle

Firelover (Wambaugh)--NF; fire department arson specialist who creates his own job security, if you get my drift

Massacre at Mountain Meadows (Walker)--NF; no agenda or whitewashing here; it's the real deal

The Dark is Rising (Cooper)--F; this was on a list of must-reads so I obeyed and read it; in the light of some of the good juvenile literature we've seen the past decade it pales because it's too far-fetched and hard to follow

The Shack (Young)--F; popular fiction that's too weird for my tastes

The Worst Hard Time (Egan)--NF; Depression dust bowl 101; itwas shocking to me to read how much that area suffered--I just didn't know

A Matter of Chastity (Yocom)--NF; chronicle of a young woman who committed murder to avenge her rape over 100 years ago

Sarah's Key (DeRosnay)--F; ok fast read involving the Holocaust in France, but too manipulative and contrived

Three Weeks in October (Moose)--NF; Charles Moose, former PDX police chief writes about the Washington DC sniper he dealt with as Montgomery County MD police chief

Sudden Sea (Rossi)--NF; 1938 New England hurricane which made landfall without warning as a category 5; people peacefully eating lunch on their sunny terrace were drowned in 25 feet of water a few hours later

The Princess Academy (Hale)--F; great YA story about a young woman who wanted 'more' than to be a princess

Skeletons on the Zahara (King)--NF; amazing story of survival by sailors shipwrecked on the African coast

Catching Fire (Collins)--F; sequel to The Hunger Games . . . leaves you hanging and the third book doesn't come out until August!