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Eric's Story Part Ten - A Wasted Life
Eric’s Story
Part Ten
Wasted Life
Eric put the car in reverse and looked over his shoulder. He still had room to go around the front of the Tahoe and it was clear to go back the way he had come.
Eric watched as man jump out of the rear SUV before it had even come to a complete halt. This guy had on some jeans and a regular shirt. He sure wasn’t wearing any police uniform but he sure did have a gun and he was running past the Tahoe right towards Eric.
Behind this guy he saw a woman, also in jeans and a shirt get out pf the driver’s side of the SUV. She also had a gun. Eric wondered what the hell was going on; did everybody have a gun tonight except him?
Eric was sure he had seen the guy in front before but all he knew for sure at this moment was by the pissed off look on that guy’s face Eric didn’t want anything to do with him.
Before the man with the angry face reached his car Eric started to back out of the carport. He looked back and was starting to turn in order to clear the Tahoe when the driver’s side window just to the left of his face exploded with a terrific bang. Glass flew everywhere hitting him in the face and cutting his hands. Before he could fully comprehend that he had actually been shot at his car collided with the front of the marked Chevy Tahoe making a dull thud.
Momentarily stunned Eric tried to gather his thoughts. “Oh my God, that guy really shot at me!” He looked with disbelief as the man who had just shot at him grabbed his own face and yelled out “I’m shot” as he fell to his knees. That was too much. Who the hell was shooting at that guy?
The woman ran up next to man on his knees. She glared at Eric with a wild look in her eyes. Behind the wild eyed woman Eric could see his front door
Then the woman’s eyes narrowed and her gun came up pointing at Eric who realized to his terror that she must think that he had shot her friend and then the panic began to take over.
“I’ve got to get out of here! I’ve got to get out of here” was all he could think.
Eric managed to get the car in gear and started to pull away from the Tahoe. As he drove forward past the woman her gun barrel moved with him aimed directly at Eric’s face. He put up his left arm trying to somehow protect his head.
Her first shot tore through Eric’s left arm and into his head just to the left of his nose. The pain was immediate but there was no time to hurt now because there were more bangs as bullets entered his left arm, his shoulder, and his abdomen. The Dodge stopped again as it ran into the back of the Cadillac.
“I’ve got to get out of here! I’ve got to get out of here” repeated in Eric’s mind. With his good right arm he put the car in reverse and using the same arm he turned the car wheel and stepped on the accelerator.
Eric ducked down across the front seat to get out of the way of the bullets as the car backed down the drive way. He could hear the guns popping and the slugs ricocheting off of and tearing into his beautiful new car. The bastards were destroying in a matter of moments what poor Mr. V. had spent years polishing and protecting. Eric thought If Mr. Varvaro could see what was happening to his car it would surely break his heart.
Continuing backwards Eric felt the car go over the curb so he knew he had cleared the cop truck and he stepped down hard on the gas feeling the car gently rise and descend as it reversed across the street. He winced in anticipation of the jolt that would come when the car hit the curb on the far side of the street and when it did pain exploded from his bleeding wounds. He still managed to slam on the brake and the car skidded to a stop.
This was crazy! They were really trying to kill him. There was no time to wonder why this was happening; he only knew it really was happening and that he had to get out of here now. He quickly checked himself. His left arm was useless and his nose stung but other than that he didn’t seem to be hurt too bad.
Going left, towards his Mother’s was out of the question. They had that way blocked off. He would have to go right, back the way he had come and then what? Eric didn’t know that answer but it was the only choice he had left.
Eric reached up with his good right arm and placed it on the gear shift lever while he pushed the clutch in with his foot. He pulled the lever and felt it slip into gear. He took his right foot off the brake and put it on the gas pedal and pressed down. It was now or never, this was it.
Eric took a deep breath and as the engine raced he popped the clutch and pushed himself up behind the wheel. The tires of the old car screeched one more time as he lurched forward.
Eric moved his right arm from the shifter to the steering wheel but before he could crank it right he saw the short angry man, already half way across the road, running straight at him. The little man’s right arm was extended out in front of him and the pistol he was holding flashed.
A small hole appeared on the windshield but Eric didn’t feel the missal slam into his chest and penetrate his heart. His body was no longer his. He wanted to gasp for breath but could not. All the horror, pain, and fear began to fade away as his hand slipped off of the steering wheel and he slowly slumped back across the front street.
The car continued to roll slowly forward under its own momentum. Eric never saw the lady with the wild eyes run up and fire a bullet into his shoulder and down into his chest. The beautiful old Dodge crept forward and came to rest against the marked Tahoe with its bar of flashing lights reflecting off of the gun smoke that now filled the night.
To Eric this craziness no longer mattered. He had been afraid for a moment, in the beginning, when it had hurt but as the pain went away so did his fear. He had even resisted letting go at first because he knew he was dying and he want to, not yet, not like this. He knew he was not supposed to die tonight and all this violence wasn’t really, shouldn’t really, couldn’t really be happening to him but the horror of the night began to go away as memories of his family and friends flowed through him bringing a brief sadness before a stronger calmness came over him and he knew it was going to be alright. The more things faded away the more it became like a nightmare that was so scary and real when it was happening but it was finally over and now was the time to return to the warmth and peace of deep, deep dreamless sleep. Gone was the confusion that had been racing through his mind around why were doing this, cops don’t do things like this, they are here to protect us, why were they shooting at me. Those had thoughts drifted away to he probably had just been dreaming after all. The nightmare was so distant that he doubted he would even remember it the morning. Then an idea briefly flashed through him, one so wonderful he was afraid to think it because it was too much to hope for. The thought was what if the entire thing about Little Joe being murdered had also just been a part of his bad dream. That whole thing had never seemed like it was ever real. Suddenly, this made total sense and Eric really began to believe because for the first time in a long time he was sure he heard his best friend’s voice again. Little Joe was calling to him telling him hurry up, not to worry because everything was going to be just fine.
By the time the cop in the uniform, the one that had pulled the asp and gun on Eric over by his apartment walked up to the now stationary car and placed his firearm through the shattered driver’s window firing four deliberate well placed blasts into Eric’s body as it lay prone across the car seat, one in the brain and three in the heart, Eric was already long gone. He never felt them jerk him out of his car and throw his body in the street. He didn’t feel them slam handcuffs on him or feel them going through the pointless motions of administrating CPR as if they might actually resuscitate the bloody lifeless body.
He didn’t even hear his mother’s anguished scream as she ran from her house and saw what they had done to her beautiful smiling son. As for this last part, Eric didn’t really need to hear his Mother’s scream because deep down he always knew she was there for him.
Post Script
That weekend Eric’s memorial service was attended by over two hundred people.
In April, despite protests from the Kleemeyer family and other community members, a secret Grand Jury was convened by the Santa Clara District Attorney’s Office. They met for three days behind closed doors before concluding that Sergeant Craig Middlekauf, Officer Jeff Vaden, and Officer Dawn Marines of the Santa Clara Police Department were not guilty of any wrong doing and would not be held accountable in any public forum for their actions citing a lack of compelling evidence.
In August hundreds of people attended JusticeFest, the Forever in Our Hearts Concert and Picnic presented by the newly founded Justice for Eric Kleemeyer Foundation to raise community awareness while honoring the memory of Eric and other victims of police violence. Local bands as well as Rick James original Stone City Band that came all the way from Buffalo New York provided the entertainment. Sadly, Eric’s friend Sammy passed away the night before the event.
On the one year anniversary of the shooting more than fifty people came out at midnight for what will become an annual event to walk the two mile pursuit route and hold a prayer service at the death site in memory of Eric and what was done to him.
Eric Kleemeyer’s cremated remains are buried in a Santa Clara cemetery that is located in the center of the pursuit route. With the cooperation of the Ramirez family Eric was laid to rest in the same plot as his friend Little Joe. They both would have liked that.
copyright 2006
John Sherman Watkins
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hey eric
Your story is really sad. I am sorry you had to go through this. Will you write back.
Angela
WHIRT BACK PLEASE!!!!
cu later
11/7/06 8:15 PM
Your story is really sad. I am sorry you had to go through this. Will you write back.
Angela
WHIRT BACK PLEASE!!!!
talk to u later