My life will never be the same. On August 13, 2017, my son was shot and killed just days after his 26th birthday.
Jackson was having a fun day with friends and family. He had been jet skiing, boating and enjoying the outdoors at Cherry Creek reservoir in Aurora, Colorado. It was a place I had fond memories of from my own childhood.
It was 7 p.m., still daylight, the park filled with families — children too. A stranger approached my son, and they got in a fight. The man walked to his backpack, brought out his gun and shot my son.
There, in his brother’s arms, he died.
My son, a surfer from Southern California, was generous, smart, athletic and above all kind. He never had a chance to marry or become a father. He could have been and done so much in life. But a complete stranger stole that from him.
My other son suffers from PTSD. His father and I have worked really hard to just get out of bed and maintain our lives. Yes we have survived. But we are, and always will be, damaged.