This is the text of a victim impact statement written by Jamie Berchtold, a daughter of murder victim Judith Berchtold. It was read in court by another relative at the sentencing hearing of Tony Smith, who was convicted of murdering Judith Berchtold, and a copy was provided to the GateHouse News Service by Jamie Berchtold.
Every single morning of my life since April 11, 2009 has become like Groundhog Day. I wake up and ask myself, "Did this really happen?" A flashback of my childhood that I often remember is when my brother Brandon was born; I was 10 years old, and Nicole and Becca were 4 and 2. My dad, sisters and myself are all gathered around my mom lying in the hospital bed holding my new baby brother. My dad is videotaping us as we all stare at him and try and decide what to name this new addition to the Berchtold family. We went through many options. He was almost a Jason, a Seth, a Joseph, and then my mom threw out the name Brandon, a name she had gotten from her favorite TV show at the time. And then 2-year-old Becca blurts out Brandon Patrick in her squeaky little voice. That was it, Brandon Patrick it was. I really watch my mom during this moment on the tape, her face is so lit up, she is so happy, smiling from ear to ear and so humble. She was such a proud mother. She used to always talk about if she had the chance to have more babies she would have. I used to think she was crazy; what woman loves being pregnant that much? But she did, and she loved being a mother.
Another family video we watched on what would have been her 50th birthday, June 16. My mom is videoing Becca in our back yard and Becca is being silly and mom says to her, "Becca Boo Bear when you are 18 you are going to kill me for taping this." I looked over at Becca and she had her head buried in her knees crying in my living room. How ironic. Becca would be turning 18 in a month, but not ever get the chance to be mad at mom for that funny moment.
On top of the shock and pain of losing my mother, I think what stings a little more is watching my younger sisters and brother go through this nightmare as well. Being the oldest I feel like I should protect them from what happened. But I can’t. I am helpless. If I could take away all of their pain onto myself, I would. I would in a heart beat. At my sisters’ ages they should be looking forward to college, friends, memories, fun, and their next chapter in life after high school. But instead, we had to pick out what our mom would wear to her visitation. We had to decide what flower arrangement we would like draped across her casket.
Becca attended her senior prom the day after we put our mom to rest. She graduated from high school a month later. Can you imagine that? Nicole, only in her second semester at ICC was unable to finish the spring terms. She somehow was able to pick herself up and get back to school in the fall, but a semester behind the original plan. Brandon finished his freshman year at Midland High School knowing he wouldn’t be there the next year. All of our lives are forever changed. Our mom was taken from us. Think about that for a second, someone taking away your mother. Try and swallow what it would feel like to find out someone killed your mom. That your mom died violently and painfully and you will never see her again. And now try and go on and live normal. It’s hard, believe me, I am still trying to swallow. I will never see my mom again. I get so mad at myself knowing the last time I saw her I didn’t hug her goodbye. It was a quick meeting where we were exchanging cars and we said hello, goodbye, see you Easter Sunday, and I love you. But no hug. I thought I would see her Sunday for Easter dinner. Why didn’t I hug her? I try so hard to think of all the good memories, but they are so clouded with the reality of her death and how it happened. I am so angry at the future moments that we will never get to have. I am so angry at what was taken away from us. When it’s my brother’s turn for prom, he won’t have a mother there taking pictures of him and his date like all the other kids. At his baseball games this spring he doesn’t get to have his mother there watching him play and cheering him on. When he gets married someday he won’t get the chance to take mom to the dance floor and share that special mother-son dance. He is 16. It is not fair that someone can take all away from him for no reason. When my sisters and I have children, we don’t get to have our mother there holding our hand while we give birth. We don’t get the chance for our mom to show us the secrets she used to do to get her babies to sleep. We don’t get to have our mom there to show us how to be a good mother. It’s not fair. All of the happy moments we have to look forward to in life will now be sad and bittersweet, because the most important person in our lives will not be there, our mom. And it’s not right.
We had to give our home back to the bank, because we couldn’t take on the responsibility. Who can prepare for this? No one. Our home, our place of peace and comfort is gone. Our furniture, our pictures, our lives are all packed up in a storage unit. One day we have a home, the next day we don’t. We had to pack our entire lives into boxes. We had to pack my mom’s entire life into boxes. I couldn’t stay in the room while her clothes were being packed, because I could smell her, I could smell her all around us and it killed. I was at work about a month ago and a woman came in wearing the perfume mom wore and I burst into tears. I want her back. I want to hug her and smell her again. But I can’t I will never be able to hug or smell her again. Why would someone do this to us? Why did she have to die? Why are we going through such pain and suffering and this monster that did this to us is sitting there smiling or showing no emotion? How can God allow something like this to happen? It’s not fair. My mom took this monster and his child into our home and gave them a second chance. She tried to give his daughter Jenna something she never had in her life, a mother. Did he think about her? Did he think about what would happen to his own child? No, he didn’t. And that is disgusting. Jenna’s life will never be the same. She too has a lot of pain and suffering ahead of her. And I hope she finds peace some day. But that cold-blooded person she called her dad does not deserve her forgiveness. He deserves to die in a cold jail cell alone. And that will never even be good enough. He deserves to be shot five times while running away and then die on the side of a road like our mom did. Tony, you are a coward. And you will rot in jail and then go to hell.
I plead to Judge Kouri to take into consideration what this man has done to us and taken away from us. And put this monster away from the rest of his natural life so that we can try and find peace and move with our lives like we deserve. We did not choose this. It happened to us.
