Comatose and near death, Melissa lay in Frankford Hospital- Torresdale Campus for weeks after the January 2003 accident. One doctor attributed her recovery to the "plasticity" of her youthful brain; she was27 at the time. A roadside memorial marks the spot along Route 413 where the drunk driver hit their car.
- Seeking Jasta
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Seeking Jasta
A stunning tragedy took her daughter and her memory. Each day, she fights to get another bit of them back.
He gave up drinking for a year after the accident, and his children never get into a car without clicking their seat belts.
Melissa says she has no interest in romance with him or any man. She says she cannot imagine becoming a parent again. She couldn't bear the pain of losing another child.
Remembering Jasta
On her left shoulder, a year after the accident, Melissa got a tattoo of Jasta, rising out of clouds. On her right shoulder, months later, she followed with a tattoo of Tinkerbell blowing fairy dust across to Jasta.Melissa is "obsessed," to use her mother's word, with Tinkerbell. Her small SUV has Tinkerbell seat covers and Tinkerbell floor mats. A plastic Tinkerbell hangs from the rearview mirror. Her mother calls the vehicle the "Tinkmobile."
In Melissa's bedroom, along with pictures of Jasta, are pictures of Tinkerbell, and a Tinkerbell snowball, and three Tinkerbell pillows on her bed. "I just like fairies," Melissa explained.
Her mother thinks this reflects her immaturity after the accident.
"She wasn't like that before," Daubenspeck said. "I can tell you that much."
Her brother thinks it's a way for Melissa to keep the memory of Jasta near and alive.
"Jasta loved Cinderella," John Sweeney Jr. said. Both Cinderella and Tinkerbell, he said, "remind Melissa of Jasta, and that's her way of coping."
A letter from prison
Awaiting trial, Steven Williams tried to commit suicide, according to his lawyer, Ronald Elgart.Later, he got a tattoo on his arm, "In Memory of Jasta."
This made Melissa angry. She feels he has no right to carry her daughter's name on his arm.
Williams, who is in prison west of Altoona, declined to be interviewed for this story. His lawyer thinks that Williams has suffered greatly.
From prison, Williams wrote Melissa:
"I hate myself for what I caused. Jasta is always on my mind day and night. I have a lot of shame and guilt. I hold on to the pain I cause you. Just about everyday I question myself why am I still living. I should of died that night not her. . . . All because I was a selfish person that got into the truck drunk. It eats at me I don't even feel human anymore. I know an apology not going to fix what I caused. I am sorry. I wish there was something I could do."
Because Williams had limited car insurance and no assets, Melissa got only a few thousand dollars from the insurance company. The judge in the criminal trial ordered him to pay $11,000 to Melissa, and he sends small amounts from prison - $36 a few weeks ago.
Melissa also filed a civil suit against Williams, but not to win a big judgment. Williams could never have paid it, her lawyer, Joan Gallagher, said.
Instead, Melissa wanted to make him pay by remembering. So Williams has agreed to a settlement that will require him, once he leaves prison, to write a $75 check to Mothers Against Drunk Driving every month for the next 15 years.
"I don't want the money," Melissa e-mailed, "and I wanted it to do some good, and at the same time I wanted him to remember what he did to have to write that check. So I thought it was a perfect way!"
Williams, who, according to his lawyer, has been a model prisoner, is eligible for parole this Christmas Eve. In June, Melissa and her mother both told a hearing officer that they opposed his release.
