Victim's Impact Statement

​Judge Robert Fitzgerald
Superior Court, County of Orange, Dept. # C-5

RE:  Sentencing of JB

Your Honor,

I am Eric Andrew Christensen, the father of Miles Andrew Christensen.  I am writing this Victim Impact Statement to describe, in small measure, the effect his death has had and will continue to have on me.
In the early morning of May 11, 2009, Jackie Ardalan and my son were with the defendant JB.  As the police report shows, they had all been drinking alcohol.  And for reasons the defendant has yet to explain, he recklessly drove at a high rate of speed on a winding road, lost control, stopping when his truck slid up an embankment and crashed into a tree.  This crash was so catastrophic that it opened the cabin of the truck, throwing Jackie and my son Miles to their deaths.  My son’s seat was pushed to the back bed of the truck, facing sideways.  This son that I had so much joy in raising; who had so much joy in his life and so much to live for; who was only at the beginning of his adult life; was killed by a reckless, drunken act.

This first year after Miles’ death has been one of waking up on Sunday nights at 2:30 AM, tears, lack of concentration, remorse, sadness, anger, regret and so many other emotions that take turns tormenting me.  I see my other son, Tanner, who pulled into himself and I worry about how it will affect his future choices for college, career and relationships.  His friends and family have rallied around him and supported him, even as they too have felt the pain of losing their friend and surrogate older brother in Miles.  My friends, my family and my clients have been consistently great in their love and support.  But through this year, I feel alone and know that my son Tanner must also feel this emptiness despite standing among people who love him. 

There are the memories of the times I spent with Miles and the pain of knowing we will never have them again.  The river rafting, golfing, skiing, trips to national parks like Yellowstone, and seeing our nation’s capital.  I think about the barbecues, holidays and our Friday lunches.  Each season has had my thoughts go to what Miles would do:  snowboarding, surfing, softball, dirt bike riding, and trail riding.  He lived such a full life that had so much laughter in it.  Now it is gone and the laughter is silent.  I missed Miles at each of his brother’s senior season football games this Fall, and how Miles would have been proud of his accomplishments.  I missed him at Tanner’s high school graduation.  And I resent that all of the delays in this process have acted as an open sore on Tanner’s senior year.

Overlying this is the solitude of judgment I feel as a parent.  I find little satisfaction in anything I may have done right as a parent and find that there is no emotional balm that can sooth the pain of my failures as a father.  I know that the things we tend to work out with time with our adult children will never be granted to me.  I now live with the feeling that there is no redemption in this mortal life for the failures I had in raising my son.  I told him I loved him every day; we hugged one another every time we met and said good-bye; we prayed every night that he was with me, and we talked about important things; I volunteered in his grade school classes, and on and on.  But I wake up every day feeling that my soul has been disabled by my failures and the loss of Miles through JB’s reckless action.

As I look to the future, I know that there will no longer be any unhindered celebrations or unfettered joys for me.  Every leap of happiness is now dragged down by the weight of his absence.  It can be a small pang within, or it can be tears – but it is always the ending to my joys today.  

I will celebrate Christmas, New Year, Thanksgiving, birthdays and the like; but they will continue to be saddened by Miles’ absence.  His laugh, his smile, his cooking that meant so much will be gone.  I will look but not be able to find Miles at future celebrations like my own wedding, Tanner’s wedding, the birth of nephews and nieces, or the times he would spend as an uncle. 

And I hurt for Tanner who will spend the rest of his life without his brother and friend.  A friend of mine has a father who is 92 years old.  He wept when he heard of Miles’ death.  He wept for not only the loss of Miles but for the future Tanner will spend without Miles.  This 92 year old man lost his brother in a drunk driving accident 75 years ago.  For 75 years he has wanted him back and knows about the long sentence Tanner has before him.  This is what was taken.

Most of all, I will miss the life not lived.  I will miss getting to know the wife Miles will never have, the children who will never be born, his life as a brother to Tanner, the times we would have spent together, the way he would face his future, and the life he will never experience – I will miss my son Miles.

And I know that this feeling that wakes me up in the morning, puts me to bed at night and pulls on me throughout the day will be my last feeling in this life – I miss Miles.  This is my lifetime sentence.

JB, the recklessness of your actions that night are singular to you.  They were not the everyday occurrence of every young drunk driver.  If they were, then the streets in Orange County would be littered with death every weekend night.  You and I know that my son and Jackie are dead because of your recklessness. 

Your Honor, I ask you to consider the weight of two lives taken in your sentencing.  I believe they demand more balance in our justice system than the feather of no jail time, or the pebbles of a smaller sentence that can be reduced to 1.5 years per life through our prison system.  Even the sentence recommended by the district attorney will have JB out of jail at a younger age than I was when Miles was born. 

​Yet it is the one sentence I see that can promote itself as a deterrent for those watching this case – hopefully serving to change their behavior behind the wheel of a car.  I was a father who spoke again and again about the dangers of drinking and driving – going so far as to cut out articles on teen fatalities as illustrations of my point.  It didn’t work.  I do hope the sentence you determine will act as a deterrent for the sphere of friends of JB and those who knew Jackie and my son Miles.