"I want my children and family to know we can move ahead with our lives and Jason Warren will never be among us again."

I have been a distance runner in Humboldt County for over 30 years. Beyond helping me stay fit, going for a run helps keep my life in balance. I love running alone and I love running with others, especially early in the morning.

I chose to go for a run on September 27, 2012.

In the midst of my friends and me innocently and responsibly doing what we loved, Jason Warren had the idea to drive us down with a car. Then he chose to act on that idea and chose to leave us for dead.  His cowardly set of decisions and actions on the road resulted in him killing my friend Suzie and Jessie’s sweet dog Maggie.

I lived but there are very few aspects of my life that are the same as when I began that run with my friends.  

Jessie and I have been colleagues and friends for seventeen years and part of a small group of serious distance runners for over twelve years. At times the group shifted but throughout those years Jessie and I ran together. By the time of the hit and run, we had logged countless hundreds of training and racing miles as running partners including running side by side to the finish line of the 2012 Boston Marathon.

Rain or shine, dark or light, tired, frustrated and more - we ran.

Jessie and I will be friends forever but our friendship changed because of our injuries and the devastation inflicted on us. We went from seeing each other many times a week to going weeks without visits. Even now, the way we are recovering is such that we are rarely able to run together. I miss our friendship the way it was before.

We can’t have that old friendship back.

Suzie was our running partner and dear friend too. Over the five years Suzie ran with us we put in more hundreds of miles together. I miss her and everything about the partnership we developed through our running adventures. We trained for many races including Suzie’s and my first marathon, which we ran side by side. There are no words to describe how it feels to know the void at my side will never again be filled with Suzie. I can’t have her back either.

I get to keep those Memories of running with Jessie and Suzie.

Working hard to keep my body fit made me happy. I liked reading. I had been learning to knit and play ukulele. I liked gardening and going backpacking with my family. My family and husband did not worry when I set out for morning runs with my friends or solo. They believed I was safe and would come back when expected.

The hit and run changed all of that too.

My injuries included a badly broken leg requiring metal hardware and several surgeries, a broken rib, bruised lung, lots permanent soft tissue damage to my foot and ankle, a serious traumatic brain injury, permanent damage to a nerve of my left eye, cuts to my face and body and more. Ongoing issues and setbacks from these injuries include regular challenges with walking and running, impaired function of my eye and most limiting of all - because it’s inescapable in my waking hours -changed cognitive functioning due to the traumatic brain injury.

Because of these injuries I have less to give to my family and friends. I have less tolerance for stress, for things being out of order, for sudden noises and for traffic, especially where children are concerned. I struggled with things that used to be easy.

Since deciding education was the path I would pursue I have worked with at risk adults, wilderness trail workers, typically functioning elementary children, preschoolers, and spent seven years teaching adult inmates in this County Jail. I taught special needs students at every level. I eventually decided the remainder of my career would be in Montessori education.
The school I taught at is the school I envisioned and then scraped and struggled and persisted in opening so local children could have the opportunity for free elementary Montessori education.

Four weeks before the hit and run, we opened our doors in a new location with a newly hired teacher. I was to mentor her through her Montessori training.
Just the Friday before the hit and run our students and staff celebrated the United Nations International Day of Peace.  We held a parade with a giant Peace Dove, the children sang and we welcomed Veterans for Peace to join for tea and conversations. These seasoned military veterans spoke with us about the importance of learning to resolve conflicts with ways other than violence.

This is the backdrop of what Jason Warren took from me as a teacher when he chose to drive us down.

That Thursday morning 40 young children and their families arrived to a chaotic scene I still can’t fully envision. They learned vague but devastating news.  Rather than the welcoming environment they trusted they would find, these small innocent citizens had to face the horrible fact that an adult not only thought of driving a car into runners on purpose, but actually did it and then drove away.
And I was gone.

The parents and community members who helped create our school were stunned and unsure how to proceed. Everyone wanted me back. For my sake, for the sake of my family, the school children and for the community it would have been a relief for me to be able to return to the teaching job I loved. It would have helped set things right again. But I can’t have that.
I had to be brave from the moment I understood what happened. Braver than I wanted because I believed my own children and my school’s children needed to see me be OK. I didn’t have the capacity to think it through but knew I needed to get back to teaching.

When I first visited school so the children could see me a little 1st grader said, "Oh! Your leg is still there. I thought it was broken off!"  It is funny in a way but it was also heart breaking to think these innocent children had to make the best sense they could of an event even normal adults could not make sense of.

Suzie's children attend a small school too. Those children had to work through a whole different aftermath, one where a sweet young classmate and his little sister had to learn how to live without their mom.

It is not in my nature to give up on things I want. I worked diligently over a long time and spent a lot of money to become a very good Montessori teacher.

I did not realize how competent I was until after the hit and run. My brain injuries and damaged vision permanently changed my teaching abilities. In a typical week I could manage a busy classroom filled with productive, happy children while providing a variety of lessons, redirecting conflicts, interacting with adult helpers, noticing who is heading off to the bathroom, revising schedules in the evening, planning field trips and special events, helping coordinate fundraisers, leading the school’s running club and more. It was not perfect every day but I was able to do all of this after logging serious running miles in the early morning.
Now, I am not teaching at all and in order to function well I must have a long segment of very quiet time each day.

My family has endured so much too.

My oldest daughter was twenty-two and freshly graduated from college, my son was seventeen and my younger daughter was just eight. We were awaiting final approval to adopt our youngest, who was still in a small orphanage in China. She was just 6 ½ years old.

My oldest left her job in the bay area to come home and help. My son stepped in to help while also trying to finish his senior year of high school. They and our 8 year old had to see me cut, bruised and broken with tubes and monitors strung around me. I was confused, one eye pointing the wrong way I went in and out of consciousness mid-conversation. They had to be patient. They had to set their lives on a different track with me and they each continue to negotiate a relationship with a mom who is not the same.

My husband is a dedicated father and endearing partner. He has had to do so much more at home, at our school and in our relationship. He was already a hard working and admired science teacher. His burden increased tenfold. He began helping at our school, arranged my medical care, did shopping, cooked meals, and drove me to and from school and more. I know it is challenging yet every day he remains steadfastly supportive of me and my ongoing recovery needs. He is my husband so of course he should do so but he should not have to. He was already working very hard.

While still in my wheelchair I began working in my classroom just 15 minutes a day with only one child before being overwhelmed and feeling desperate to flee what felt like noisy, confusing chaos due to my brain injury. My husband would drive me home so I could retreat to comforting silence.

I kept trying. After months and months I was able to work in my classroom longer but only with the help of a classroom aid and two other part time teachers. It felt very unfair for the children and was an ongoing logistical challenge for staff. After two years of trying my doctor finally wrote up the paperwork. He had already determined I am permanently disabled but was supportive of me trying as long as I wanted. In order for my school to thrive and for me to have any hope of further recovery I had to give it up.

For me to have tried so hard and still end up walking away from my own school feels like one more thing that was senselessly, violently taken. Packing up my classroom felt like cleaning out a deceased person's belongings.

Among the hardest things about this is that Warren already took so much.
I did not want my ability to teach to be another casualty.

I had to take disability early retirement because I couldn’t do my job. This is a retirement fund I worked for and paid into. With early retirement my family’s income is reduced and will remain so because I can’t teach. It also significantly reduces my future income as well.

I am glad I am not noticeably disfigured from my injuries but looking OK and being recovered are not the same.
Every time I look in the mirror I'm faced with my left eye that is not the same as when I started running that morning. I see double when tipping my head down or trying to look over my shoulders. It has made returning to cycling on my road bike hard. Even running or hiking in certain light conditions on rougher terrain is difficult. I have to limit myself and be more mindful of where I’m going when running the trails that I love.

I have scars on my face that are subtle now and mostly blend in. I notice the scars and don’t like them.

I also notice my foot and leg. The first few steps each morning tell me how the day is likely to be for that leg. It's seldom very painful now but the damage is permanent. Right now I can run and will continue trying. It's a thing I feel desperate to keep because I still love to run and it brings me closer to memories of how things were.
I don’t want my running to be another thing Warren took away.

It seems my ability to interact socially is not an area of my brain that was damaged. To casual friends and strangers I seem fine. I am glad about that too but not glad to explain, sometimes daily, that in order to make it through each day with much grace I need to get away somewhere quiet and sleep. Most people don’t understand.

I can tell when functioning is going badly. I notice things are going wrong, that I’m saying the wrong word, can't quiet hold a thought, express an idea clearly or remember something later. Nearby distractions compound that. I notice when it’s happening but I can't correct it. The normal exuberance of our younger children in our home is often too much. It’s hard to stay calm and let them be children.

Even though I know none of these limitations are within my control, I am frequently frustrated and disappointed at my diminished abilities. Some days it is hard work to remain positive and focus on what is going well. This is work I did not want. It is very different work than I was doing before Warren drove us down.

The morning we were hit my husband and Jessie's husband got calls to go to the hospital. They roused our children and drove, not sure what they would find. They found us badly broken but alive.

Hank never got a call.

I was not able to tell the first responders Suzie’s name. When she did not come home on time Hank went out looking for her. He drove up onto the hit and run scene and interacted with law enforcement to learn that his wife was killed.

My being able to utter Suzie’s name would not have saved her life but it would have allowed timely notification to Hank. It is not my fault, I know.
Yet I still feel responsible because it means Hank and their children suffered further trauma.

My injuries were such that I survived. The fact that I lived and Suzie did not is a thing I face each day too. This is not my fault either but it is another painful thing.

Many community and private resources were diverted our way to help in the aftermath of Warren’s actions. I am grateful but prefer to be among those who help others rather than to need help.

A final choice Warren made that has cost us all in many ways including monetarily is the cowardly act of pleading not guilty, forcing the extended jury trial.  Housing him will also cost taxpayers for years.

I understand that the guilty verdicts in our case, along with Warren’s previous violent felony convictions, mean he will be sentenced to serve a term more extensive than one life without the possibility of parole.

Warren committed these crimes while out on a Cruz waiver this court chose to allow. Warren chose to not return as agreed. That cannot be undone.

I want that Cruz waiver to be the final gesture of trust our courts ever extend to Jason Warren.
He was a convicted violent felon headed to serve significant prison time when he was let free and committed these crimes. Warren made those choices.

What can be done is to ensure Warren is not free to harm anyone else.

I want sentencing to require Warren to serve each term of his sentences for each conviction consecutively, not concurrently.

I want the young students at my school to know that the criminal justice system did its job with the trial and the outcome is fair and just.

Should Warren choose to reform his life he can do so secured within the confines of the California State Prison System.

I want my children and family to know we can move ahead with our lives and Jason Warren will never be among us again.