On May 10, 1998, we got a call from Jacob’s (half) brother, and he said, “I love Jake, and you do, too, but he is dead.” At the age of 26, Jacob was shot in the heart on the porch of his mom’s neighbor. I was his stepmom and had first met Jacob when he was two years old. He was special — so respectful and kind. He was employee of the year at his job and loved by his many friends.
He was a trusting peacekeeper when he went next door that day to help straighten out a situation where a couple of teen boys had taken property from this neighbor’s yard. The man answered the door with a gun behind his back, and his girlfriend was heard shouting “Don’t do it!”
The trial was held almost five years later due to appeals and the defense attorney becoming the district attorney during the delay. The man who shot Jacob was acquitted. Jacob’s father and I almost had to be carried from the courtroom, and his dad fell into a depression from which he never recovered.
Jake’s mom and brothers are still family to me.