Parents of man killed in DUI crash sue store, other driver

BY SHELLIE BRANCO, Californian staff writer
e-mail: sbranco@bakersfield.com | Wednesday, Apr 25 2007 11:22 PM

Last Updated: Wednesday, Apr 25 2007 11:21 PM

"The parents of an underage man who died after a drunken-driving crash in September are suing the liquor store that sold him alcohol and the driver of a car that struck his vehicle.

...

The Elliotts’ suit names Susa Wilson Chauncy, who struck the vehicle after it overturned, Miller said.

She accelerated instead of braking, and that resulted in the crash, which may have caused or contributed to Elliott’s death, he said.

...

This is absolute utter bullshit.  Do any of you recall the blog I posted shortly after this accident that included photos of my Aunt's injuries?  "May have caused or contributed to Elliott's death" - what?!  The officer even told my Aunt that evening that the other boys were dead before she hit the wreck in the middle of the road. 

Chauncy is suing for injuries she suffered in the accident and Munoz’s mother filed a wrongful death suit.

She's not suing for compensation - just reimbursement for medical expenses.  My Aunt isn't the suing type, she's actually being screwed already by this because the Elliott's auto insurance coverage wasn't enough and her insurance has to pick up the slack so that's why there isn't money left for her medical - which his insurance should be paying anyway because he caused the accident by driving like a squirrel pretending to be a race car driver.

Chauncy has incurred $25,000 in medical bills, Lemucchi said, but the damages asked for in the case are unspecified. Lemucchi said Chauncy braked but was unable to stop at the Oswell Street offramp and hit the overturned car.

Well at least her attorney is on the right page.

Miller said he’s not specifying damages for the case at this point.

The Elliotts’ lawsuit should be served to the defendants no later than next week, Miller said. The defendants will then have 30 days to respond.

Well, isn't that nice?  The Bakersfield Californian and other media sources can't even wait to post this story before my Aunt is notified.  She buried her MOTHER on Monday!!!  Then today a family friend sees the article and local TV news about this and she's the one to tell her.  My Aunt didn't even know they were suing her!

I'm sorry, but I think this is just ridiculous.  People are way too sue happy - this kid's parents need to take responsibility for their own actions - namely letting their son, who already had a history of drinking and driving, get behind the wheel.  All my Aunt wanted was some help paying her medical bills.  What a case of being at the wrong place at the wrong time.

Last night I was trying to fall asleep - I've been aching a lot because of the weather change and other things.

It was just after 11, Pumpkin's sister called him, while he was yakking on the phone I heard a loud drawn out female scream, then silence.  Then another scream, then silence.  Pumpkin finally hung up, I told him about the scream.  He commented how the area is changing again, I agreed ... seems more bad than good people are moving in around me.  It's the apartments.

Then I heard the sirens approaching - I have supersonic hearing ... probably something to do with my lack of vision.  I listened intently, then told Pumpkin when they turned down the street behind my house - that's when they turned off their sirens.  There were at least two ... it was quiet for a minute, but the security light in the alley kept going on and off.  Then in the distance I heard another police car ... and what was that, an ambulance?

Of course Pumpkin couldn't hear them until they were much closer - the ambulance was more difficult to distinguish for him ... so I just gave him a play by play "Okay, they are coming down H ... they just passed my street, now they are going to turn off their sirens and come down Maple ... Listen ... did you hear the officer's radio?"  A bit later "Listen, one patrol car is leaving now".

Then it was quiet, but I laid their wondering what had happened until I fell asleep. 

The last hour I've been going through my photo albums on yahoo.  I went from pixie brunette to funky short blond, to aviator blond, then BOOM - it went black.

I didn't even get that far.  I became a bit emotional as I looked at the photos taken 12-31-04.  I'm cute, blond, happy ... had no clue that several months later I'd be told I had cervical cancer, then several months after that an operation that I thought would be in an out - instead I was out of work 10 days, bled for months, and couldn't get any answers to why my cervix was "spongy" or why I would randomly gush blood like a geyser.  That's about when I went black again.  I haven't gone back ... instead I've let my hair gradually go back to normal, just as I have gradually gone back to normal.  I still get have random issues with the girl parts, whatever - I'm a cancer survivor.

Still ... I wish I could turn back time and relive 2004.  That was a good year, let me rephrase that, that was a fucking awesome year!  I miss the friends I'd head out of town to visit on random weekends - my getaway to the coast, something about them and their place was just what I always seemed to need.  Then they moved to Washington right at the end of the year. 

I guess I'm just feeling kind of down, big things, good things, have happened since 2004 - I graduated college, survived cancer, bought a house, went to China ... but there is something missing, or maybe someone ...

Oh, not to mention my Aunt Vickie passed away last year, then my Gram passed away last week.

And that's what led me to searching for a bottle of wine, then instead popping open a bottle of champagne.  Isn't that supposed to be a celebratory drink?  Nevermind, I'm always doing thing backwards.

I'm just not satisfied, I feel a little melancholy, even a bit lackadaisical, morose, and gutted.  Times like these I really should pick my sketch book back up.  Maybe I will.

Sigh.

Thanks for the kind words and understanding.  Today I got up, out of bed, washed my face, put on some lotion, then had the intense desire to just go back to bed.  So I did.  Igby doesn't mind, he's just been curling up with me day after day.  I took a shower and even got dressed around 2 and am just about to finish off another box of Ferrero Rocher.  I need some more ...

I feel so typical, laying around, eating chocolate, doing absolutely nothing.  Unfortunately though, I'm almost out of Ferrero Rocher and grocery staples, so I'm going to have to leave the house today.

Yesterday I watched the movie "The Upside of Anger" ... wow, I totally was able to understand and associate with the main character (not just because of my recent loss, but from other events that have happened in my life).

Aunt Susa called me last night and asked if I thought the funeral should be this coming Saturday - sure, why not?  She figured that way no one would have to miss work.  Fuck work man, I'd miss it if it was on a weekday, and if my boss had an issue with it I'd fucking go postal.  But lucky me for having such a nice boss, he totally understood me not wanting to set up the workshop on Saturday, and then not coming to work today.  He left a nice message, but then asked me to call him back and let him know how the applications were going, what needed to be done, and when I might plan on coming back.

I told him tomorrow - I need to go back to normal ... but I really don't want people coming up to me and talking to me yet.  I need to make a sign for my co-workers "Leave a card if you must, or some chocolate, that's always nice, lol ... but please don't come up to me and try to make me feel better." That's so awkward.  And I might burst into tears.

I used to consider that day a lucky day, until this last Friday.

The day started out fine other than realizing my checking account was very low and my roommate still has not paid his rent.  Then I went to Smart & Final to pick up some juice, soda, and water for a workshop for work.  I picked up a 12 pack of bottled juice by the plastic wrapped around it - it ripped and crashed to the floor.  Fortunately I have cat like abilities and managed to jump back fast enough that the liquid from the shattering bottles (yes, today I learned plastic bottles shatter too) did not spray on me. 

I thought I'd be polite and stick my head out the end of the aisle to catch the attention of an employee to let them know of the defective box and mess.  None to be found, I was not about to be assed to wander off from my cart and hunt one down just to say "Um, yeah ... I just made a HUGE mess in the juice aisle" - so I grabbed what I needed and moved on to the soda, then water, then register.

Fortunately the place was not that busy, only one register was open at the moment and I was in front.  Things were going fine as she rang up the 5 cases of juice, 10 cases of soda, and 3 cases of water - then she tried to use my PO to pay for it.  Apparently this is not common practice there, last time there were issues getting it through.  Poor gal, she was punching numbers, punching numbers, and punching more numbers.  3 people are behind me now.  Finally someone who must have had more experience comes, punches in some numbers then matter of factly tells her to call the whatever number and everything was fine.  I smile at the man behind me and say "sorry", he smiles and says "It's okay" ... I think he just wasn't going to be assed to move his stuff to the other register the second lady had just opened.

Long story short it took 45 minutes to ring me up - finally after the clerk frantically called over the loud speaker for another employee to come, she arrived, punched it in super fast, and wham bam thank you ma'am it went through.

Get back to work, had pulled my back loading everything into the work vehicle, so I called my boss to let him know I had left it in the van for him to unload.  No big deal to him.  I went home.

My original plan was to get home, kick up my feet for 30 minutes then head over to the hospital to visit my Gram with Aidan for an hour, and then go to the chiropractor.  I got a bit caught up balancing my Notary Journal, realized it was about 3:15 and was about to get up to go when I get the phone call ...

It was my dad ... "Kindra, have you heard yet" - well no, I hadn't, but I already knew what he was about to say - "Gram passed away"  All I could ask was "WHEN!?"  He didn't know, he was in Santa Barbara with my brother checking out the UC.  Aunt Betty had called him, he called me, and then I called my sister.  My sister was angry "Why didn't anyone call me?!  Aunt Susa said she'd call me if she got worse!"  I told her I figured she must not have known, but I was a bit upset too if that was the case since I live 5 minutes from the hospital.

I call Aidan in to give her the news, how to break it to my 9 year old that her Big Gram had passed away ...

"Aidan, I have something sad to tell you ... Gram passed away, we are going to the hospital now to say goodbye and see Aunt Susa ... are you okay?  Come here ... " she did and I hugged her, she began to cry a bit and asked when.  I told her I didn't know.

We get to the hospital, my Aunt is hysterically crying hugging and holding Gram.  I now immediately that we had just missed her and I began to hate myself.  Why wasn't I there at 3 like I had planned?  Then I reached around my Aunt and hugged her ... she asked "Who is this?" realized it was me and relaxed a bit.  We all just cried, Aidan had sat down on a chair as my Aunt stepped away and let me hug and hold my Gram, stroke her chair, her hand, her face.  She was still soft ...

Then Aidan hugged her and Aunt Susa let me know what she had just spoke with the doctors who had said she'd live at least 2-5 more days, she'd gotten Gram's attention and Gram had opened her eyes and Aunt Susa had said "Mother!  I LOVE YOU!"  Gram smiled, shut her eyes, and less than 15 minutes later she took a breath and held it - her friend Rachel in the room asked "is that normal?" My Aunt said "Yes, sometimes she'll do that" ... but then she suddenly turned a bit yellow and never took another breath.

Aidan came back to me, sat in my lap, we all cried, my sister and her fiancé arrived - she yelled at my Aunt "Why didn't you call me!!!  You told me you'd freakin call me!!!  I'd of come sooner!!!"  We all quickly explained how quickly she had gone, how her condition had not changed since we'd visited the night before.  Then we all cried some more, the hospice man came in and began giving some lame directions to Rachel and Aunt Betty (My Gram's sister who I do not speak to, long story, very good reason behind it).  I wanted to scream at him "Do you get a kick out of this?!  She just passed away!  Give us a bit of room to grieve then come back with your mumbo jumbo about the grieving process booklet!"  But I didn't, instead I explained to Aidan that Gram was still probably in the room with us and could hear us and was probably watching us, so if we tell her we love her and goodbye she would hear us.

Then as an innocent child might do, she said "Mom, I want to stay with Gram tonight.  I want to stay in the hospital with her tonight and watch her" ... I told her they wouldn't keep her in this room tonight, that that was just Gram's body now ... that we are just spirits who occupy bodies, and when our bodies die we leave them.  She understood, but asked "Mom, how do they know for sure that she is really dead?"  A nurse walked in just then with a stethoscope and listened for a heartbeat.  I told Aidan "See, the nurse is checking for us, she's listening for a heartbeat ... let me know when you want to go, okay?"  We sat a few moments longer, Aunt Betty got up and said "I can't sit here and look at her like this" then left.  Then Aidan said "Mom, I'm ready to go now"

We hugged our Gram one last time, kissed her cheek, stroked her hair, and told her we love her and will miss her so very much.

Then my mother called.

"Kindra, where are you?"

"At the hospital, Mom, Gram passed away"

"Good, now she's out of her misery.  Is Heather with you?"

"No ... Mom, don't say things like that"

"Well, it's true.  When are you going to bring the bookshelves over?"

"How can you ask me about furniture at a time like this?!"

Then I hung up.

Aidan and I left, it was about 4:30, I had a chiropractic appointment.  I was a bit numb at the moment and it was just a block away, so I figured I'd go - I knew I'd be tense and stressed this weekend so I better not miss my adjustment.  I asked Aidan if that was okay, she said it was.  We sat in the waiting room a few minutes and looked for hidden items in a picture book, then both went back to the children’s adjusting room (Guess he puts me on that table because I'm small?  The Chinese would laugh at that).  Then we headed home.

My mom called again.

"Kindra, are you home yet?"

"I'm on my way"

"When is the reading of the will?  Is there going to be one?  I just want my money"

"Mom!  Give me a few days before you start into that!"

I hung up again.

When I got home I called my Dad back, he'd asked me to give him an update.  I said "Well, not much to update on Dad, Gram's still gone"

Then my sister and her fiancé came by and we sat around and talked a while - mainly about how negative our mom is.  Pumpkin called my cell, I didn't answer, he's not the most comforting person.  Then he called the house and Aidan answered.  He asked her to ask me if he could come over.  I said "Whatever", so he showed up.  After a while my Sis and her fiancé went home. 

A while later my Aunt came over with some beer, we ordered wedges and chicken from Rusty's.  We watched TV and remembered Gram.  My Aunt was so happy to hear that I want the red dished my Gram had collected, my sister didn't want them and my Aunt said she'd never had the heart to tell Gram that, she wished she'd of known how much I liked them, Gram would have been so happy to know ... but I told her that I had mentioned it to Gram once and she was happy when I told her how much I loved them.  Then it was late and I needed to go to bed, I was supposed to work this morning.

First I needed to notarize a copy of the Power of Attorney.  Michael grabbed my stamp and stamped it on the pizza box.  I was so angry, he'd once before stamped it all over his hand and arm.  I'd asked him never to do that again, that I take my job as a notary seriously and no one is allowed to touch my stamp, how I could loose my commission.  He shrugged it off, laughed, he was showing off for my brother's 18 year old girlfriend who had also come by.

He took her home, my Aunt left, I got ready for bed, he came back.  I again told him how angry it made me that he had done something that he had said he wouldn't do again.  He couldn't get it through his dumb thick head that it wasn't that he had stamped a stupid stamp, but that he had done something he had promised he'd never do again ... and how can I trust him not to do the big things when I can't trust him to not do something so stupid and small?

So that led to a fight, me yelling, crying, and screaming.  I even threw something at him in frustration.  He kept going on like a child and kept trying to bring other people up and just being a jackass.  I told him to leave.  He finally began to, I went back into my bedroom and just broke down on my bed.  Sobbing so hard that my body was threatening to throw up.

I cried ugly for a very long time, at one point he wandered back in, I'd heard him go in and out the front door several times, and asked "What's wrong?  Why are you so upset over a stupid stamp.  What's the matter"

All I could cry was "My Gram is dead" ...

Eventually, about an hour later my sobbing stopped, I was trying to just not think, I went into the bathroom and blew my nose, then ran cold water over my hands, it felt so good and was so comforting that I just decided to stick my head in the sink.  There I sat just feeling the water run over my head, my hair eventually clogging the drain and the water filling up over my eyes, ears, stuffed up nose, and stopping just before my mouth.  It felt so good I contemplated just getting into a cold shower fully clothed, but I didn't want to move.

Pumpkin brought a towel to me, I eventually resurfaced and wrapped my hair in it, blew my nose again, then numbly wandered back to my bedroom - but sometimes it's hard to remain comfortably numb and I sobbed a bit more as I fell asleep.  Remembering how Gram and Popo had taken care of me when I was little for the 2 years my dad was in jail.  How when I was 3 Gram had walked me 2 doors down to the house on the corner where she knew another little girl lived, introduced us and asked the girl if she'd be my friend.  She said she would, she was 5 ... then I remembered my 5th birthday right after dad was released and we were going to move back home.  Gram had gone to the neighbors where she knew kids lived and invited them to my birthday to make sure there were kids at my party.  Then I remembered all the summers, thanksgivings, winter breaks, spring breaks that I had spent at her house.  I remembered fishing with Popo, or April (the girl on the corner) staying over, us making mud pies and throwing them at the neighbors house, us staying in Popo's camper trailer and Gram always bringing us apple sauce and soda.  I remembered how when I was 16 I'd lived with her for a short while during the summer when my mom was just too much.  She'd drive me to Beauty College every morning - refusing to take the freeway, so we'd leave 1/2 hour early, she take Morning to Brundage, then Brundage to Cottonwood, then Cottonwood to Ming Ave to Federico's.  I remembered how she always wanted to make me something to eat.  How she'd always let me cook and make strange things in her kitchen.  And so many other memories.  Then I remembered how a few years ago I'd given her a birthday card with a promise that I'd spend more time with her, but never did.  I hate myself for that.  I feel so horrible that I didn't spend more time with her before her Parkinson's rid her to her bed.  That I never went over once a week like I told myself I would ... sometimes a couple months would pass - and she just lived 15 minutes away.  I rarely called her to just say "Hi" ...

But the times I did spend with her I'd ask her about her childhood, things she liked, etc.  She seemed to like that.  Sometimes she'd call me to help her, I'd rush to her house and turn off a fan a caregiver had left on, or lift her from her bed to her chair, then to the bathroom, change her, sponge her down, and put her back to bed.  When she went to the nursing home last year I still didn't spend enough time with her.  The last time I saw her there was the night before I left for China.  My dad had made me dinner and I brought her a plate of chicken, salad, bread, and cheesecake.  Pumpkin, Aidan, and I sat with her while she ate the chicken and salad with her fingers then realized there was cheesecake too.  "Oh Yum!  I love cheesecake" she had said.  Then I asked her again about her childhood, her 8 siblings, when her mother had died, how she'd raised her siblings, and how she had hitch hiked from Oklahoma to California at 17 ("I finally got away, I hitch hiked to California with my cousin").  She told me about the 2 men that had picked them up and had treated them like their own daughters, took care of them and made sure they made it to California safely.

When I left I had a feeling something was going to happen while I was gone.  I promised I'd bring her photos of China when I got back.  The day I arrived home I found out Gram had become very ill the day I had left, the nursing home staff had ignored her until finally late that evening she was vomiting and the night nurse knew she was ill.  Gram had told them she was sick all day, she'd called my Aunt, my Aunt told the nurse if she said she was sick, she was sick ... she's always known before she was sick, she could always tell.

There was a blockage in her intestine, when I arrived home she had pneumonia and a staff infection.  The nurses at Mercy weren't exchanging notes, her meds were getting mixed up and not given, but she was awake, alert, and I spent some time with her that evening.  I was pretty sick the next few days, so I didn't go to see her Sat, Sun, or Monday.  Then Tuesday I got a call that she wasn't going to make it through the night.  She was finally passing, but there was still a blockage, she was too weak to do a colonoscopy or surgery, and an x-ray showed an air pocket at the top of her stomach.

I took my laptop, showed her photos of China, she'd have her senile moments, but for the most part she enjoyed all of them.  I told her I loved her, and reminded her of things I remembered - how she'd bought me a harmonica when I was small and I'd wear a straw hat and play it for her, how much I loved her cooking, especially her gravy.  She lost it a bit there and began asking people to get her her stuff to make the gravy, she wanted to show me how to make gravy.  Then she'd cry out "Help me!  Help me!  Someone help me!"  Then she began saying "Grandmother, help me.  Help me breath.  Grandmother ..." and I asked her if she saw her Grandmother, she said she did, that she was standing "right there" and looked behind me where she had been looking as she had addressed her Grandmother, who had always been her spirit guide (Grandmother was full blood Cherokee).  We stayed until about 2 am, until she was given her sleeping pill.  Gram made it through the night, Aidan and I came back the next afternoon, she was sleeping.  We sat a while then hugged her, woke her up enough for her to hear us tell her we loved her.  We came back later that evening with some Enchilada casserole for my Aunt and Dad.  She was still sleeping.  We stayed an hour, then went home.  Thursday we stopped by before the Noveltown Mixer.  Aidan was in her spring dress, we sat a bit, then woke her up to say "goodbye", she opened her eyes a bit, but then was right back to sleep.

I asked my Aunt if she'd been awake at all that day, she said she had been earlier, so I told her I'd come the next day at 3 to visit ... well, you all know how yesterday went.

I woke up this morning and began to go to work, but then called my boss and told him that my Gram had passed yesterday, that I was going to come in to help him get the muffins and juice out and get the rooms opened up for the kids, but that I just really didn't feel like sticking around the whole time.  He told me it was okay, for me to stay home, he could handle it himself.

So I took a few klonopin, a migraine pill, and went back to bed.  It must have been around 2 when I finally came back to the land of the living, took a shower, then moved to the couch in my bathrobe.  I would have stayed there the rest of the evening, but my dad called and offered to cook some stir-fry.  So I dressed and we headed over there a little after 7.

I still need to cry, there are so many tears left inside of me ... but it's making my head and sinuses hurt, so I'm just trying not to think too much.

How funny, that movie that I got Pumpkin's nickname is on.  Right now two special people are playing together ... okay, the big one is beating up the little one.  I should go to bed, my own Pumpkin keeps snoring and complaining that I've been "Playing on the computer for over an hour" - ass.