CELEBRATING BERNADINE AND FRANCIS

GOODBYE MOM AND DAD

Recently my father died. He was 95 years old, and had lived a fairly good life. Since we knew his death was coming I thought I was prepared and there really wouldn't be a big impact on me. I was wrong, really wrong. Below is a picture of my father, Francis Daniel Small, when he was a few months old. Back in 1987 my mother died. Her death was a shock to all of us. Since we did not live near my parents at the time there really was little impact on me. I had two children, 13 and 15, to keep me busy, and I felt I was in a better position than people who lived next door to their parents. In August of that year my mother decided to have a family reunion--insisted everyone come. 20/20 hindsite is amazing, and after the fact we all realized my mother knew her death was coming. She had conversations with each of us that seemed odd at the time. Earlier in the year my mother had been diagnosed with cirrhosis--she'd had gall bladder disease for many years, but there was always a reason not to take care of herself--her children were too small, she had foster children, my grandmother was living with her and not doing well.

Eventually she was taken, as an emergency case, to St. Agnes Hospital at about the same time on the same day about 25 years later from when she was taken there to have me. She was told at the time she had liver damage from the gall bladder disease, and after many years the liver damage led to cirrhosis. Ironically, she died on August 24, 1987, my 37th birthday. What can I say about my mother? She was kind, patient, understanding, strong and loved being a mother. She allowed us to make our own mistakes, and didn't say "I told you so." I asked her once, what she wanted to be as a child. Her answer, "All I ever wanted to be was somebody's mother." Whenver she held a baby she rubbed it's cheek with her finger and kissed their neck. I think the one regret she had was she didn't live closer to and get to know her grandchildren better. For her the best part of the swiss cheese was the holes, and my kids used to save them for her. Was she happy? I think so. She never had a diswasher and I remember her doing laundry, with four foster children, using a ringer washer. Yet she had time to play Uno for hours with my kids and pretending she didn't understand so they could win.

When she died she did so quietly and unobtrusevly. She was there one minute and gone the next. She'd had her family reunion--even cooked dinner for at least 15 people, and had matching dishes. A week later, when everyone had left she became confused, complaining of thirst. She fell. Dad wanted to take her to the doctor, but she said no, it was the weekend and it would be a bother to him. She was eventually taken emergently by ambulance to the hospital, where within 12 hours she died.

Her death was a shock to everyone, especially my dad. It was the worse thing that had ever happened to him--but he never took into consideration my brothers and I lost our mother. She died on my birthday, was buried on the feast day of St. Monica and one of the priests who offered her mass was Fr. Augustine--St. Augustine was St. Monica's son, and my son, Christopher, was an alter boy. I remember Fr. Augustine saying she was in heaven making lunch for everyone and asking if they wanted mustard or mayonnaise, white bread or rye.

After her death dad visited each of us at various times, even taking the train out to California to see Pat and Stephanie. At first he would spend one of the holidays (Thanksgiving or Christmas) with me and the other with Bobby. He also usually spent Easter with me too. Eventually he spent all the holidays with me until he could no longer drive. By this time he lived in North Carolina at St. Joseph's of the Pines, which was only about 3 hours away, so we would go viswit him for the day and have lunch or dinner with him. He never had a problem communicating with my son Christopher or Mike or me or even in later years my son-in-law, Christopher Stein. He did have a problem talking to Victoria. Who knew why. If you have ever read poem Children Learn What They Live, Dad was the model for it. He came from a family who did not talk about the past and at any given point someone was angry and not talking to someone. But while he had his ways, I always somehow knew my father loved me.

There were times when you wondered where he was coming from. I remember when Pat got married for the first time and he was ironing a shirt. Dad told him he could still back out--it wasn't too late. The things he said to Bob and Gay shouldn't and won't be repeated here--just suffice it to say they were mean and hurtful. For years Bob and Gay would visit my mother when they knew Dad would not be there and they would leave before he came home. And When I got married he ignored Mike for months and for at least six months didn't talk to me, but yet walked me down the aisle. I think it shcocked him that I was not constantly barefoot and pregnant as everyone knew sailors had a girl in every port and was faithful to none. We were never even on welfare.

This is Mom and Dad's wedding picture. They were married on November 20, 1941--Thanksgiving Day. In the picture is Arthur Sylvester Small, Jr., Dad's brother and best man; Doris Wimpling Bichy, Mom's cousin and best friend, Mom and Dad.

This is my brother Bobby at about one year.


This is Pat. The horse he is riding was made by my father's father, and years after I got to ride it too.

I was about 3 in this picture and it was taken in front of our house on Carey Street. That must have been a really gentle cat.


And this is the entire family in front of our house on Carey Street.

Dad seemed to start to mellow about the time grandchildren started being born. When Anna was born then went to New Mexico to visit. Mom almost cancelled her trip becasuse she couldn't leave me home alone. After all I was ONLY 19. She need not have worried--the entire neighborhood looked out for me, fed me and made sure I didn't stay out too late.

Four generations of one family--Clara Marie Regler Wimpling, Bernadine Wimpling Small, Robert Daniel Small and Anna Gay Small.

Ths is Anna--the first of five grandchildren.



And this is an older Anna.

This is Bobby holding a new born Jeremy.

And a little older Jeremy


And then there was Pat and Jason.

Is this not a great picture? I'll bet Dad was telling one of his generations old jokes.

Christopher Michael Mullikin

Victoria Regina Mullikin

Jonathan Michael Stein

Clara Elizabeth Stein

Donovan Barner

Matthew Caleb Stein

Matthew Caleb Stein

This was one of the last pictures taken before my mother died. In the front row, left to right, are Christopher Mullikin, Francis Small, Bernadine Small, and Victoria Mullikin. In the Middle, left to right, Gay Small, Bob Small, Monica Mullikin and Michael Mullikin. In the back row, left to right, are Jeremy Small, Anna Small, and Jason Small.

Francis Small, Bernadine Small, Jeremy Small and Anna Small

All the grandchildren--Christopher Mullikin, Victoria Mullikin, Jeremy Small, Anna Small, and Jason Small.

Three of the Great Grandchildren--Khyman, Kai Pat and Keil.

Dakota Small

Ailene and Jason Small

Montana Small

Jason Small

This is a picture of Bobby, me and Pat. I was about a year old in this picture. My father carried this picture in his wallet until the day he died.

In August of 2009 Mike and I went to visit Dad. By this time he was in the skilled nursing facility and when I frst walked in the room he recognized both Mike and me. I was shocked. I hardly recognized him. He didn't look like my dad. He was clean and dry and had his lunch there--even offered it to us, but he just did not look like my dad. This was the last time I saw him.

To continue on with his life, after several years of living in Alabama by himself it was decided he should move to where he could at least be clower to Bobby and/or me. Bobby found a Catholic faclilty in Southern Pines, North Carolina--St. Joseph in the Pines--and Dad was actually glad to learn he could still drink his beer there. He moved into independent living at first and did well for a few years. At the age of 89 he was taken to the hospital for the first time in his life where he had 4 liters of fluid removed from his lungs. Soon after this he was no longer doing as well as he should be in Independent Living, so he was moved to Assistant Living. Over the years he received a pacemaker, a supra pubic catheter, hearing aids and multiple meds. He once told me that as he got older the one thing that scared him was that one of his children would die before he did. If someone had told me he would live 22 years after my mother's death I would never have believed it.

I December 2008 my daughter announced she was pregnant with her third baby. The baby was due in August 2009, and since my son-in-law would be deployed Victoria asked me if I would come to California and go to the OR with her. I said I would--I was so excited. The baby was due the 31st of August, but between the doctor and Victoria they decided on a c-section on August 24th, my birhtday. Now I was even more excited.

The end of July 2009 dad was taken to the hospital. At first the doctor thought he had a bowel obstruction, but after x-rays and testing he decided dad was just wearing out. He told my brother Dad would not be able to go back to assisted living, so it was arranged to put him in the skilled nursing section of St. Joseph's. The doctor also said once he went back to the SNF it would only be a week to 10 days. Mike and I went to see Dad and I knew it would be longer than 10 days. The doctor might be saying a week to ten days, but no one told Dad. Bobby told me under no circumstances should I change my plans to go see Victoria. I was relieved Bobby made that decision for me.

As it turned out, Matthew decided he was not going to share his birthday with anyone--not even his grandmother, and to make a long story short he was born on August 15th. Mike and I went to California, stayed about a month and when we returned Dad wa still hanging on. In fact Bobby had received a call from the occupational therapist asking if she could start to ambulate dad as he was doing better. When he first went to the SNF he fell several times, but now he seemed to have improved. But as so often happens, patients rally before the end. On November 11, 2009 his blood pressure had dropped and he was having difficulty breathing. He was taken to the hospital where it was determined nothing could be done for him. He was sent back to St. Joseph's and within the hour he died. The nurse I talked to said he didn't suffer and that she had turned away from him for a minute to do something, and when she turned back, he closed his eyes and was gone. Shouldn't we all die so peacefully. The nurse said he was one of their favorites and all the nurses wished they had known him when he was younger. I could only think, "No you don't."

We had dad cremated and decided we would take him back to Alabama in the spring to lay him to rest next to my mother. On March 12, 2010 we did just that. My dad had odd ways, but all he ever wanted to do was to save enough money so he could be comfortable in his last days and maybe leave a little for his children. I am privelidged to have had two parents who reached the goals they set for themselves.The trip to Alabama was very difficult. There were too many memories--there was the Motel 6 in Brunswick, Georgia where dad wuld stop on his way to our house. Guess they don't have to leave the light on for him anymore. All the odd names of rivers and cities my mother used to think were so neat--she was going to find the oddest one and live there some day. Marianna, Florida where dad used to stop on his way back home. The Suwanee River Bridge where they have a sign with the music of "Suwanee" on it. Mom thought that was cute. Jacksonville and Jacksonville Beach, Florida, where we used to live. Mom liked our house there because she didn't have to climb up steps to get into the house like she did in Meridian, Mississippi.

So good-by Mom and Dad. I love you both and believe we will all meet again someday. I never imagined how difficult it would be to say good-by to both of you.
At Dad's "funeral" the only attendants were Bobby and Gay Small, Pat and Stephanie Small, Mike and Monica Mullikin, Anna Small, Brian Barner and Donovan Barner, and Jeremy Small. Three Generations aren't bad for a very humble man who really didn't expect much of anything from anyone.

The following are Bobby's words at the funeral, Jeremy's reading, my children's responses to Bobby's words and a reading I particulaly like.

Read by Bobby Small at the Funeral of Francis D. Small, March 12, 2010:

"When a person lives 95 and a half years it deserves some comment. By today's Fox News celebrity standards our father was not a great man. He was not involved in any important way in great events. He was just an average person of his time. His frequent comments and concerns made clear that the Great Depression was the defining event in his life. The stress and uncertainty that it brought to his family stayed with him until he died. During his life there were a great many changes to the world in which he lived. This was difficult for him. He was often frightened of the unknown or unusual. Yet his children dispersed a great deal from Carey Street, he ended up moving to Alabama and spent the last 10 years of his life in North Carolina. These would have been unimaginable events when he was growing up in Baltimore.

He was often unhappy or frustrated because he felt the burdens of society and the responsibility of husband and fatherhood and he worried that he might prove inadequate. I believe that many of his problems of this kind came from the family that he grew up in. It doesn't seem that he got the emotipnal support that he needed to be the confidnet functioning person that he might have been. This might sound harsh but there is no reason to be dishonest in this small group. It may have been the economic difficulties or it may have been other things. Whatever the case, Francis was often neither well suited to, nor well prepared for, the world in which he had to live.

What do we, the living, take from this? It seems important that we recognize that we have a hugh effect - one that lasts 95 years--on our families and the people near us. For most of us here our children have matured and their lives are to a great extent set. But we can still influence them and our grandchildren.

We can also learn from him. Though he found life hard, was not a naturally friendly person and had alsmost no idea how to approach people, he did some things right or even well.

He was never unemployed. The bills always got paid. The house was not luxurious but it was safe and paid for. We also have to say that though the paths that his children eventually took were inconceivable to him we managed to take them. Therefore there must have been some support or at least little opposition and in the end begrudging acceptance.

We all know and have joked about how frugal he was but we need to be thankful for that. Surely sometime in the first 60 years of his life he wanted something frivolous--a more expensive beer, an eclair, some really good chocolate, some good coffee. In fact he worked hard and successfully in convincing himself that the cheapest way was the best. The last 35 years of his life were probably the most happy and that had to do with the fact that he felt financially secure. He lived well in retirement with mom until she died and then well alone in his retirement home. Indeed he left us some money. It was enough money in fact to pay for the car that his great grand son drives to college. I am sure that this an extremely rare event for any one who was born on Carey Street.

Though he had an extremely hard time expressing his emotions and feelings, I think that by the end he appreciated that he had been lucky to have a phenomenal wife and a good family. Despite all of his difficulties in dealing with life, thanks in part to him, we started with more so we should strive to do better."

I was surprised at the responses I got from my children after they read Bobby's comments. It was nice to know both my children had good remembrances of my father:

From Christopher:

"What a nce letter of remarks. I have always had great thought of grandmon and grandad.I feel that Uncle Boby's remarks made me understand granddad a little more. Please know that while I am busy, I have thought of the family all weekend.

Though I may not act it, show it or even say it often...And we all know I've had MY problems in the past getting in the way of everything...I still love you all and miss you all as well. As mom always says... We may not always agree but we are always family. I love and miss you all.

Christopher"

From Victoria:

"I think that is sad...maybe I'd see things differently as grandpa's child, rather than his grandchild - but I don't think those remarks give Grandpa the honor he is deserving...yes, he had his ways, and I understand that perhaps Bobby needed to say those things aloud for some closure, but I think there was much more good to grandpa than being a good provider. The man had a big heart, a great sense of humor and loved his family very much--though it may have been hard for him to express. He was proud of each one of you--his children..and us, his grandchildren. He had intelligence far beyond his education...and while he may have not been full of hugs and sentiments, he never hesitated to fix a bike or build a train platform when visiting. So he found it hard to show his love in conventional ways, but there was no doubt the feelings were there.

Did he miss out on things because of his insecurities? Could he have lived a fuller life? Could he have afforded to be a warmer person? YES - but was he a failure or a bad man? Not in the least. He did the best with what he knew and that's all any of us can ask of our parents.

I understand Bobby may have needed to say those things, but I feel it was the wrong platform. You were there to celebrate Grandpa's life, not point out the ways in which he fell short...I don't think it's being dishonest--even in that small group--to spend just one day concentrating on his good points and for just one minute forgetting about his ineptitudes..

I'm sorry if I've spoken out of place, especially since I wasn't there. I simply think it's sad--95 years and that's the way Bobby remembers him."

Jeremy Small read the following from Ecclesiastes, Charpter 7, Verses 1-8:

"1 A good name is better than precious ointment; and the day of death than the day of one's birth. 2 It is better to go to the house of mourning than to go to the house of feasting; for that is the end of all men; and the living will lay it to his heart. 3 Sorrow is better than laughter: for by the sadness of the countenence the heart is made better. 4 The heart of the wise is in the house of mourning, but he heart of fools is in the house of mirth. 5 It is better to hear the rebuke of the wise, than for a man to hear the song of fools. 6 For as the crackling of thorns under a pot, so is the laughter of the fool: this also is vanity. 7. Surely oppression maketh a wise man mad; and a gift destroyeth the heart.8 Better is the end of a thing than the beginning thereof; and the patient in spirit is better than the proud in spirit."

And lastly, this is a reading I have like for many years; It is from Sirach, Chapter 38, Verses 16-23:

"16 My son, let tears fall down over the dead, and begin to lament, as if thou hadst suffered great harm thyself; and then cover his body according to custom, and neglect not his burial.17 Weep bitterly, and make moan, and use lamentation, as he is worthy, and that a day or two, lest thou be evil spoken of: and then comfort thyself for thy heaviness. 18 For of heaviness cometh death, and the heaviness of the heart breaketh strength.19 In affection also sorrow remaineth; the life of the poor is the curse of the heart.20 Take no heaviness to heart; dirve it away and remember the last end. 21 Forget it not, for there is no turning again: thou shalt not do him good, but hurt thyself. 22 Remember my judgement for thyne also shall be so: yesterday was for me, but today for thee. 23 When the dead is at rest let his remembrance rest; and be comforted for him, when his spirit is departed from him."

Francis and Bernadine didn't do bad. They leave behind three children--Robert Daniel Small, Patrick Francis Small and Monica Small Mullikin; five grandchildren: Anna Gay Small, Jason Isaac Small, Jeremy Daniel Small, Christopher Michael Mullikin and Victoria Reginia Mullikin; and ten great grandchildren: Khyman Bliss, Montana Small, Kai-Pat Tao, Dakota Small, Ailene Virginia Small, Kell Justice Joy, Donovan Lucas Barner, Clara Elizabeth Stein, Jonathan Michael Stein and Matthew Caleb Small. That's not a bad legacy. And I know Mom has held each one and protected each one of her grandchildren and great grandchildren and will continue to do so. She really was somebody's mother.

The Justice System Does Sometimes Work Very Well

I hope everyone will read this and then go and give their children and/or grandchildren a huge hug. Believe me I am in my mind hugging all of mine as they all live to far away to do it in person.

My week has been rather interesting to say the least. I received a letter a few weeks ago that summoned me to the Court of Common Pleas and General Sessions for Jury Duty. My first thoughts were how could I get out of going, but then I decided I should just go and do my duty. I have never been called to Jury Duty in Common Pleas Court before, only the local courts here in Goose Creek, which are usually DUI cases, and as soon as they find out I'm a nurse the defense lawyer disqualifies me or the people involved settle out of court. I figured this is what would happen when I went to Moncks Corner to the Berkeley County Court House. Boy, was I wrong!!!!

On MOnday February 22, 2010 I reported to the Berkeley County Court House along with about 80 other people. We were each assigned a Juror Number, then went into the Court Room to be accepted or rejected by the lawyers. First they asked if anyone had reason to believe they should be disqualified and several people stood up. Each one spoke to the judge, Kristie Harrington, to explain why they felt they should not have to serve. Some were excused, some were not, some were scheduled for a later session. Then names were randomly called and we had to give our numbers and tell were we were employed, in what capacity we were employed, where our spouses were employed and in what capacity they were employed. Each lawyer had a certain number of "strikes" which allowed them to not seat someone for the jury. I was totally shocked when both the state and the defense lawyer accepted me for duty.

Next we were told the case we would be the jurt for was The State vs. Justin Hillerby: Homicide by Child Abuse. Apparently 18 months ago when this happened it was a fairly high profile case, but I did not remember when it happened. The judge told us a little about the case and read a list of possible witnesses and asked if any of us knew or did business with any of these people. No one did, and finally after all the legalities were taken care of the trial started. I'm not going to break this down by days for the most part, I'm just going to give a running narrative of what happened.

On September 14, 2008 Justin Hillerby and Jennifer Sporel, who were boyfriend/girlfriend, took Jennifer's two children, Serena, 8 years old, and Blaise, 22 months old, to the pool. They had some friends that went with them, and everyone was drinking. No one was paying attention to the children, and Blaise fell into the pool several times. One of the times he fell in a 16-year-old boy pulled the baby out of the pool. Several witnesses heard Justin tell the rescuer, "You should have just left him in there." Justin was also heard to tell Blaise, "Suck it up", "No one cares about you" and also called this child a "pussy".

They were at the pool for several hours, and when they got home Justin got a call from one of his friends inviting him out for the evening. Jennifer intercepted the call and said it was not Justin's turn to go out as he had gone out the night before. Jennifer was going out that evening. There were also two roommates that lived in the house--they rented a room. Jennifer left her children in the care of Justin Hillerby and went out partying for the evening.

Justin warmed up some pizza for Blaise and siad he put the baby in his highchair to eat. After he ate he apparently took the child out of the highchair. He then fixed himself somthing to eat, and Balise came over to him and Justin gave him some of the "Corn Dog Bites" he had fixed. Justin then said Blaise spilled Justin's glass of tea, and Justin grabbed the child by the arm and sat him on the futon while he went and got something to clean up the tea. When he returned, Blaise was in the same spot--he had not moved--and his eyes were open. At some point during this evening Justin also said Blaise was running towards him and ran into Justin, who's knee hit the child and he fell back and hit his head on a carpeted floor. Justin said Blaise cried and her again grabbed the child and told him to "walk it off". He then put the child in a corner for a "time out" for spilling the tea.

When Blaise was sitting in the corner Justin noticed he could not hold his head up, could not talk, was unable to walk, and was zombie-like. He picked the child up and put him in his crib as Justin thought he was just tired form the day at the pool.

The roommates came home while Blaise was sitting in the corner crying and asked what was wrong with him. Justin said Blaise was upset becasue he was in time out for spilling the tea. The roommates went to bed. Jennifer came home at 0140. Instead of checking on her children when she came home, she unlocked the door of her roommates' room and argued with them about late rent. She then went to bed. SOmehow the next morning Serena went to school--it was not clear who got her up and got her ready. Justin and Jennifer did not get up until about 10:00 am and Jennifer opened the door of Blaise's room. Justin said to let him sleep and they would fix breakfast and Blaise would hear them and wake up. About 10:30 or so Jennifer finally went to check on Blaise and found him covered with blood and he had been dead long enough that he was stiff and cold.

At first Justin denied he had done anything to the child, but as the police investigated the child's death they became more suspicious. To make a long story short, over a period of a week Justin changed his story several times, gave three statements, each giving a different account, agreed to, then refused to take a polygraph, and became more of a suspect. At first Justin said he had done nothing to the child, but eventually he admitted he "may" have hit the child, but only with his open hand. He also said he hit the child's head on the doorframe and the crib. Various witnesses told stories of Justin that did not paint him in a very good light. While the state had several witnesses, the defense had only three, one of which was Justin himself. The pathologist that performed the autopsy stated there were 23 points of impact on the child's skull, causing severe brain damage. Justin also admitted to shaking the baby, and without knowing it Justin's own words proved his guilt. When he stated Blaise could not hold his head up, was "zombie-like", could not walk or talk, had no muscle control, he was describing the symptoms someone would have who had the type of brain injury Blaise had. The cause of death for this child was blunt force trauma to the head.

Another part of the story involves Melissa Georgoulis, whi is the mother of Justin's son, and one of the three witnesses. She was extremely hostile and rude. At some point early in the investigation Melissa stated Justin was violent when he was drunk, but at the trial said he was a good father to her children (she has two others besides Justin's son). It should also be told Justin would spend the night with Jennifer, whom he lived with, then the next night spend it with Melissa. The autopsy pictures showed an obviously beaten and battered child, and the more Justin spoke the more guilty he sounded.

After both the state and the defense rested there were rebuttal witness and finally the last witness was called on Thursday Morning. The lawyers gave their summations, and Ms. Williams read a few things from the last statement Justin wrote. When asked if Blaise had blood on his face when he was put to bed, Justin said he didn't look, that he didnnt notice becasue he was drunk. The defense lawyer stated there was not one shred of evidence that Justin had done this. He said someone beat this child to death, and that there were three other people in the house that had the chance to do so. He said Justin was a young man with a long life ahead of him and he hoped we would find him not guilty. The trial broke for lunch, and after lunch we were charged with what we could and couldn't do. We had two choices--not guilty or guilty of homicide by child abuse. We were given all the evidence and sent to the jury room. We did go back into the courtroom once to re-listen to the 911 call Justin made on the morning Blaise died. In the call he told the dispatcher, "he's f---ing dead". When we first went into the deliberation room the jury forman asked if there was anyone who felt Justin was not guilty and not one jurist raised his/her hand. We discussed the evidence, lookd at the pictures, read the statements, and after about two hours came back into the courtroom to deliver our verdict. The Baliff gave it to another Baliff who gave it to the Judge. The Judge read it and gave it back to the Baliff who read the verdive--Unanamous Guilty of Homicide by Child Abuse. We were then led out of the courtroom and the judge came into the jury room and thanked us and discharged us from our duty. SHe asked if anyone wanted to stay for the sentencing and most of us said yes. We were taken back to the jury box and the state's attorney, Anne Williams, spoke to the judge asking for the maximum sentice. She said in a call for jail, which we heard, Justin said he would spend the rest of his life making this up to Jennifer. Ms. Williams asked the judge to help him do that by sentencing him to life. The grandfather to Blaise, Leonard Sporel, then spoke. He said he and his wife moved to South Carolina from New Jersey and expected to retire and spend time with their children adn grandchild. He said as he got older he intended to get younger but spending a lot of time with Blaise, and asked the judge to give Justin the maximum sentence. Next the defense attorney, Michael Bosnak, spoke and said he hoped the judge would be lenient on Justin so he could one day be reunited with his own son. Next Justin's mother, who was visiting from Guantonimo Bay where she is involved with Homeland Security, pleaded that pity be taken on Justin. She said she knew her son and knew he hadn't done this.

Next it was the judge's turn to speak. She addressed Jutin and told him she wished she had something profound to say to him. She said the evidence speaks for itself, and as a result she was sentencing Justin to prison for the rest of his natural life, without the possibility of parole. When she said this the entire jury jumped when the grandmother of Blaise, Sharon Sporel, screamed out "YES!!!". She then looked at us and mouthed the words "Thank you." The State's attorney also mouthed a thank you to us. We were then escorted out of the court house by armed police to our cars. On the way to the elevator another jurist and I being escorted by the police ran into the defense lawyer, Michael Bosnak. He shook our hands and asked us if he could speak to us for a minute, but we both declined.

The two of us went to an ante room by the front door to wait for our husbands to pick s up. We had just sat down when we looked up and there were about eight members of the Sporel Family. As each passed us on the way to an office to our right they thanked us, and they all thanked us again on the way out.

As I sat in on this trial I thought of my own children and grandchildren. I can not imagine how I would act if someone beat one of them the way this child was beaten. This child had 23 point of impact where he was beaten. Around his eye were four marks that would correspond to knuckles on a hand. The mother of this child is also facing 10 years in jail for neglect of a child. How can either Jennifer or Melissa stand by this man and trust him? As I said, the justice system does sometimes work very well.

Blaise Preston Sporel

Justin Ryan Hillerby

The following is the article written in the Post and Courier, including the above pictures, on the day after the trial:

SUMMERVILLE MAN GETS LIFE SENTENCE FOR HOMICIDE BY CHILD ABUSE

A summerville man will spend the rest of his life in prison after a jury found him guilty of beating to death a 22-month-old boy in September 2008.

It took a jury a little over two hours Thursday afternoon to return a guilty verdict against Justin Hillerby, on trial for homicide by child abuse in connection with the death of Blaise Preston Spoerl, the son of Hillerby's live in girlfriend at the

However, at first Hillerby told officers the boy was fallingtime, Jennifer Spoerl.

Despite requests from Hillerby's attorney and his mother, Circuit Court Judge Kristi Harrington handed down the maximum sentence, life without parole.

A gasp and a heartfelt shout of "yes!" from a family member of Blaise Spoerl greeted the sentence, despite the judge's warning not to show outbursts of emoton.

The incident occured in September 2008 when Summerville Police responded to a call at hime on Dovetail Circle in Summerville. There they found 22-month-old Blaise Preston Spoerl lying dead in his crib. According to a report, the boy's body was still, cold , and covered in blood.

According to an arresting affidavit, Hillerby Hillerby told investigators he had accidentilly bumped into the child, striking him with his knee hard enough to knock him to the floor. Hillerby said that after striking him, he told the child to get up and "walk it off," the affidavit says.

The child wobbled to a set, looking like a "zombie," Hillerby told police.

However, at first Hillerby told officers the boy was falling asleep in his highchair so Hillerby put him to bed, an incident report shows.

According to the affidavit, after being placed in his highchair, the boy's head "began to sway back and forth as if he had no muscle control."

Hillerby told police he took the child from the highchair and carried him into his bedroom, accidentally hitting the boy's head aganist the doorframe and against the crib, according to the affidavit.

Later, about 1 a. m., the boy's mother came home, intixicated. She did not check on the child but did get into an argument with roommated about late rent. Then everyone went to bed.

The next morning, Jennifer Spoerl found her son in his crib, lying on his back with a pool of blood near his body, the incident report says.

A pathologist at the Medical University of South Carolina in CHarleston performed an autopsy and determined the cause of the child's death was blunt trauma to the head and the manner of death as homicide, the affidavit says.

During the defense's cross examination Thursday, Hillerby admitted to the jury he had changed his story several times becasue he was led by police detectives to believe that if he modified his statements, his story would match forensic evidence.

"They said it was an accident and people don't get in trouble for accidents, " he said.

He also admitted to having a number of run-ins with the law, but never for any violent offenses. Finally, while he maintained throughout the entire 18-month ordeal that he does not know what happened that night, he also said he was not intoxicated that evening and he never, ever hit Blaise.

His attorney, Michael Bosnak, characterized the case as a series of false confessions, with no physical evidence of any type pointing to Hillerby as the one responsibile for the child's death. Two roommated home that evening testified that they did not see anything unusual or out of the ordinary either with Hillerby or the child. One asked why the child was craying and sitting in the corner and HIllerby told them he had put the child in "time out" because he had spilled a drink.

"I wouldn't have hurt him--why would I,' Hillerby said. "If I had wanted to, I could have just left."

Melissa Georgoulis, the mother of Hillerby's own son, testified that she uses corporal punishment when her children misbehave, but that Hillerby never would.

"Justin was a good father to my children--never laid a hand on any of them," she said.

However she admitted that Hillerby had "popped" his son on the bottom at least once.

"I wouldn't call it a hit, " she said

Assistant Solicitor Anne Williams said that Hillerby's story changed as time went on. When he found out the child had died from blunt force trauma, he gave a little more information.

"He wanted to put his story in the best possible light," she said.

Williams also noted that Hillerby's own words show he is responsible. FOr example, in a telephone call between Jennifer Spoerl and Hillerby, Hillerby is heard saying, "Maybe I smacked him. When his head hit the floor is when I guess ot all started. I didn't notice. I was drunk.

The prosecution pointed out that the horrific nature of the child's injuries clearly showed that his death was no accident. According to a pathologist, the boy died of blunt force trauma, with some 23 different injuries inflicted around his head and face. The pathologist said thse injuries could not have been inflicted by either open-handed blows or a fall to a carpeted floor.