When I joined the military, I knew that there was some danger involved. Unless I went to war, then I didn't really expect to have anything happen to me. While there are the training accidents and such like that, I knew if I was careful, I wouldn't have to worry about that. So imagine my surprise when I was the victim of a violent attack in my living room. On October 15, 1999, which was a Friday, payday, and a much-anticipated day all around, a fellow class member and I made plans to go out and let off some steam. I was attending a Military Occupational Specialty school in 29 Palms, California and the classes I was taking were told to be one of the hardest schools in the military due to the material that was taught. It was going to be the perfect night, my wife (now ex-wife) who was also a Marine in my class; had a 24-hour duty that night and I had a sitter for my son. I met my friend at the bar and the evening started out great. We went bar-hopping, and he knew several of the local residents which made the night all the more enjoyable as a few of them joined us in our bar-hopping campaign. At the end of the night we were back at the bar that we had started out at and I was still in the drinking mood, so I made an open invite to all of our party to come back to my house and drink there. All but one declined, as most had children to get home too or were just too tired. The guy who decided to accept was around 21, and a local citizen with no ties to the military. He was a little taller then I, and probably outweighed me by 50 pounds. He knew several of the people in the group, as most of them were from the area. His dad was even one of the people we were drinking with. I had asked his father if he was okay and his father said he was fine. I had him drive to my house in my car because I didn't feel that I was okay to drive. We went to my house and I was showing off a bit since at 24 I had a 3-bedroom house with a swimming pool and 2-car garage complete with the 2 cars. Around the time I was showing him our pool, disaster struck. I was standing outside talking to him when I noticed that water started overflowing the sides of the pool, no sooner did I notice this then I realized we were in the midst of an earthquake. It was my first earthquake after living there for almost 4 years, and registered in at 7.2 or so. Probably the first thing that happens during the aftermath of an earthquake is power loss, and it sure didn't miss its mark that night. After checking on the neighbors who I had heard out front I went into my house and that was where my second shock happened. I entered my pitch-black house not being able to see anything in front of me. Turning the bend to enter the kitchen I was struck with a sharp object (later determined to have been a box-knife). Throwing up my arm I attempted to defend myself, but to no avail. The last thing I remember of that night was pleading for my life for my wife and son's sake. When my wife returned the following morning around 8 a.m. She walked into the house to a horrifying scene… I lay upon our living room floor covered with blood and looking like I had been savagely mutilated. Her first thought was I was dead and that my attacker had cut my ear off. I was stabbed over 60 times around my upper torso, including my neck, face and ears (I will state hear that my ear wasn't cut off, just in half). The worst of the wounds was a punctured lung, which put me in Intensive Care for 4 days, with a total of 7 days in the Desert Regional Medical Center of Palm Springs. Fortunately for me, I was seen by a local plastic surgeon, who was able to restore my face, neck and ear with almost no noticeable scars. My assailant also stole my car and took it into the desert and set it afire. I think he took maybe 40 dollars or so that I had in my pocket. They apprehended him, which wasn't very hard for them, as I knew his name, and he had been bragging around town how he had killed a Marine. Luckily for me he was inept, and I was able to recover. What is deplorable is how the California justice system handled the case. They had enough evidence to charge him with 4 felony counts; arson, grand theft auto, mayhem, and attempted murder. The case never even went to trial. I called the detective who investigated the case and was informed that he had plea-bargained and was only sentenced with 9 years prison time. Where the problem here lies, is the fact that I was never even notified of the disposition of the case, nor was I ever contacted by anyone in the District Attorney's office about anything pertaining to the case. Essentially, my dear "friend" will be able to walk the streets again after serving 4 ½ years due to the fact that the California Justice Department has the "every day served with good behavior is a day off the sentence". Subject to a parole board, of course. At least I have my health; I have made a full recovery and am looking forward to many long years with my son. Having survived this terrible ordeal, I am wary of strangers, and have little faith in the justice system. I haven't lost my faith in man, however I have little trust in them. To think that the person that you are enjoying an evening with would do such as this is rather dismaying to think about.
