• Doreen McGettigan
  • A little from "Bristol Stomp"...I had a dream (nightmare) about this last night...
A little from "Bristol Stomp"...I had a dream (nightmare) about this last night...
Contributor
Written by
Doreen McGettigan
November 2010
Contributor
Written by
Doreen McGettigan
November 2010
It was hard for me to go to Bristol at that time. There was a makeshift memorial for David close to the spot where he was found. It was slightly comforting. I felt close to Dave in that spot. I honestly am now affected every time I see any such memorial. Crosses on the highway, flowers scattered by the side of the road, I always wonder who they were, who their families are and how are they doing. I wondered how many other people actually took the time to notice. I once heard a woman say she thought they were eyesores. I bit my tongue. I know the comfort they provide. I also got a sick pleasure out of the fact that the killers and their families had to see the memorial and be reminded every time they drove by. My brother-in-law Tony was very diligent with the upkeep of the memorial. He and my sister lived less than a block away. David loved to stop at the WaWa in Bristol for a cup of coffee and cigarettes. It always brought a smile to my face when I stopped by the memorial and saw a cup of coffee and a pack of Marlboro’s by the angel’s feet. I hoped people would always remember. I was so afraid people would forget. I was really getting frustrated waiting for the other seven people to be charged. Months were going by. The police kept telling us to be patient. My patience was running out. They were out there, living their lives and probably never thought about David or what they had done to his family. I was obsessed with wanting to know every detail of what each of them had done. I did not want to imagine anymore I just wanted to know. I realized I had not seen the car. I asked Randy, the detective, what happened to the car and he said it was evidence and suggested I do not go to see it. I had to go. I was not prepared for what I saw. I wondered how much more my mind could take. I was trembling and could not stop. Every window was broken, there were dents everywhere and the car seat had been ripped out. The seat belt holding the car seat in place had actually been ripped. Who could do that to a baby seat? I heard through the Bristol Borough grapevine that it was Steve Owtscharuk. I did not know much about him. I know I wanted him charged with something. Any person that could watch; or beat a man to death knowing he was the father of a baby could not be anything but pure evil. I am not very proud of some of the thoughts I had about him. I saw him in WaWa one day and it was so hard not to scream at him. I wished that he would have a baby one day and that he would be in a horrible accident with his baby in the car seat that was so mangled and he could not rip the seat belt and save his baby. I could not believe I even thought of such a thing. Not that I felt guilty about wishing harm on Steve because I did. I did feel guilty about wishing harm on an imaginary baby. I convinced myself it was part of the grieving process. I was angry! I could not shake the image of that car. Did they do all that damage while Dave was still in the car? Did they come back and do more damage after they left him in that driveway bleeding to death? Is that why Joe, Anthony and Dave decided to run from the car? Did they fear for their lives? I would have, had someone been pounding on my car with that much force and anger. I would have been terrified. Dave had been hit with his own level. The one he used for his mason work. He kept it in the trunk of his car. How did these killers get their hands on that level? I imagined maybe as these wild animals were pounding on the car David pushed the trunk button to keep them from breaking the back window. Maybe Joe, Anthony and Dave were going to try to grab the tools and use them to get away. On the other hand, the bad people could have gotten the tools after Joe, Anthony and Dave ran away from the car. Dave had glass fragments stuck in his face. I saw them that first night in the hospital. He had to have still been in the car while the windows were being smashed. I imagined when Dave got out of the car he was immediately hit over the head with something and was injured and confused. Was this why he never caught up to Joey and Anthony? Why was I driving myself crazy trying to figure this out? David was dead; did the horrific details really matter? I really wanted to know what was going on with the investigation. I was not hearing much. I feared the police where busy preparing for the trial and not preparing to arrest Jimmy Williams, Mike Good and Steve Owtscharuk. I wondered if the two cars had been searched that night. Where was the other hammer? It could be anywhere. It could be at the house where the party was held that night. I felt it was most likely at the bottom of the Delaware River. I heard that through the Borough grapevine too. It was getting harder and harder to believe the good guys always win. David was one of the good guys. Without a doubt, he was a good guy. I was hanging onto my faith by a thread. Not that I questioned my belief in God, I was just having trouble believing he was going to make all this make sense to me. I had to believe the bad guys would pay. If I lost that thought for a moment I feared I would lose my mind.

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