Sierra LaMar: Anatomy of a Search Day 5

Michael Le is the coolest guy in the room! But it wasn’t always so. When I met Michael he was an anxious, nervous, shy man-child wearing Vibram Five Finger Shoes. He had a deer in the headlights look because his sister Michelle had been missing for nearly three weeks, since May 27, 2011. On June 7, Michael and his family learned on the evening news that Michelle’s disappearance had been reclassified as a homicide.
 Michael’s paternal family were boat people: immigrants who fled Communist controlled Vietnam following the Vietnam War. His maternal family were recipients of the Orderly Departure Program, which allowed people wishing to leave Vietnam after the war to do so in a safe and orderly manner. Both families immigrated to the United States intact and settled in San Diego, CA where Michael’s parents met and married. Michael and Michelle lost their mother to cancer in 1999 and lost their father to indifference before they were even born.
 Son Le immigrated to the United States, the oldest of six children, when he was seventeen years old. Like generations of first born Asian men before him, Sonny received deferential treatment and was allowed to chart his own path. Unfocused, indifferent and caught between two cultures, Sonny became a nomad prone to ancient superstitions as he embraced 21stCentury electro-technology. He has a tendency to disappear for long periods of time and then reappear suddenly as if he had never been away. Sonny deferred his paternal responsibility to his younger sisters and allowed his children to become way stations in his nomadic wanderings. 
 In 2002 Michelle and Michael were living in the San Francisco Bay Area with relatives while Michelle pursued her dream of following in her mother’s footsteps and becoming a nurse. She was six months away from achieving that goal when she disappeared from a Kaiser Hospital in Hayward, CA last May. The extended family began commuting from San Diego to help Michael search for his sister.  
It was during one of these commutes up Interstate 5, which runs from North to South through California’s central valley, that I received the call from one of Michael’s uncles. As we had so many times before, Violet and I watched Michelle’s drama play out on the evening news. She kept encouraging me to help the family, but I deferred, reminding her that the family needed to call us, not the other way around. I believe that my wife was driven by similarity. She too, is a first generation Asian American whose family of nine traveled half ways across the world to settle in the land of golden hills and Champaign dreams.
Our first meeting occurred in a dingy motel room in Hayward. My first piece of advice to the family was to get a new room. Having stayed in hundreds of hotel and motel rooms I understand the importance of maintaining standards of comfort that did not exist at this location. Ultimately, I believe that we reflect our environment which is why it is better to surround ourselves with beauty rather than squalor.
I accompanied the family to the Hayward Police Department where Sonny, surrounded by family, stepped in front of waiting television cameras and read a statement rejecting law enforcement’s theory that Michelle was a homicide victim. He declared that the family still believed that she was alive and that they would search for her until she was found alive. Off camera Sonny looked me in the eye, and promised to move heaven and earth to find his daughter.  Two weeks later he traveled to Vietnam for an extended visit.
Michael and his cousin Krystine, who had just moved to the Bay Area from San Diego, assumed the burden of responsibility, a daunting task for kids in their early twenties. They recruited volunteers to distribute flyers. Although Michael was shy, and he spoke haltingly, he organized small fund raising events and tried to repair the family’s relationship with the police. Finally, when we reached the point where volunteer searches were feasible the family secured a Buddhist Temple that we could use as a search center on weekends. 
 Michael was a ubiquitous presence at the search center. At first he stayed in the background, a lanky lad gracefully shadowboxing or teaching the temple children how to dragon dance. Although he was surrounded by family, and his girlfriend Thuy was never far away and was always watching his back, Michael seemed alone, isolated, attempting to slay the demons in his head as he reconciled his frightening new reality.
 The search for Michelle was very different than the search for Sierra LaMar. We only had a weekend search center, not an entire donated school. Hayward was as indifferent to Michelle’s plight as Morgan Hill has been responsive to Sierra’s. Whereas we have registered thousands of volunteers from Morgan Hill, only a handful of people from Hayward offered assistance. Instead the response came primarily from volunteer SAR teams, the Asian community and those who admired the steely determination of Michael’s tight knit family.

Eventually a core group of volunteers gravitated toward Michael and went with him on ground searches. He became more comfortable and began hanging out in the mapping room, sitting in on briefings and debriefing sessions. Very quiet and never displaying the wild range of emotions typical of family members, including myself, in dire straits, Mikey began to fit into his new role of brother-protector.

As days turned into weeks and then months the family assumed more and more search related responsibilities. KlaasKids is very good at creating a search and rescue effort. We can work with and provide direction families and their communities. We can create relationships with law enforcement and work with the media, but we do not have the resources to devote our full time all the time to a single search. Therefore, we are constantly teaching and instructing. We seek out people to assume critical search related roles and basically hope to Hell that they are up to the task. Michelle couldn’t have been in better hands. Family passion never wavered and their commitment never waned. Unfortunately, on September 17, they learned what we had believed from the beginning. It was during the last scheduled search that Michelle’s remains were discovered. The Hayward Police had been correct all along. She had been the victim of a twisted mind and a vengeful heart.

Throughout, Michael never lost his public composure. The deer in the headlight gaze deferred to focused contemplation. He had developed a passion for search and rescue as he found his voice and his direction. He determined that Michelle’s death would have meaning and announced that he was forming his own SAR team. He organized meetings and team trainings. He has overcome his shy nature as he developed a quiet forcefulness that commands respect.

When Sierra LaMar disappeared I received another call from a desperate family. Again, I explained that certain milestones would have to be achieved before we could launch a major search and rescue effort. Again, my words clashed with a sense of urgency that wants to recover their child, not achieve “certain milestones.” When I called Michael and asked him if he would work with Sierra’s family on preliminary roadside searches he didn’t hesitate for a moment. I could hear the excitement in his voice. He met with them, he consoled them, he took them into the fields to search for their daughter and he led them.

 Now when I see Michael at the search center every day he is not shadow boxing and he seems to have slayed or at least reconciled his personal demons. He stands in front of hundreds of anxious volunteers and quietly commands their attention as he explains basic SAR procedures. He briefs and de-briefs search teams all day long. The shy, lanky man-child I met last year has evolved into a man of purpose and a leader of men who wears Vibram Five Finger shoes. Michael Le is and always will be the coolest guy in the room.

Sierra LaMar: Anatomy of a Search Day 4

The two Cathy’s appeared at the Find Sierra Search Center at approximately 1:00 p.m. this afternoon. I had been forewarned that they were coming, but given the numerous tasks at hand, I placed this tidbit in the back of my mind and attended to other matters. I was writing a press release when they came into my office. Introductions were made all around. We closed the office door and discussed our business.
Hopefully, people get into the child find business for altruistic reasons. They have either been touched by personal tragedy, they have an overabundance of empathy for the plight of missing children, or simply realize that it is their calling. It is a rewarding field because it becomes helpful to families when they are at a crossroads. When their lives have been turned upside down and they are in need of expert guidance and advice. Those who become advocates for missing children because it will bring them fame and fortunes quickly realize the folly of their ways and seek alternative career paths.
I wasn’t prepared for the conversation with the two Cathy’s, but their faces were flushed crimson and their nervous energy was palpable so I knew that something was afoot. I asked them to sit down, but they declined. They had something to say and they weren’t particularly interested in formalities. Finally, we were just standing there, surrounded by the amped up positive energy, so they wasted no time in delivering their message.

When children disappear, unless you are one of the parents, it can be difficult to remain positive. Family has no choice but to remain hopeful. As a general rule you believe with all of your heart that your child will be returned alive until proven otherwise. First responders, on the other hand, play the statistical game. We can anticipate the probable outcome in advance. It’s not good outcome, so we keep our world worn knowledge to ourselves, put our chins down, assume a focused gaze, and go about our business.

The two Cathy’s and I emerged from the tiny office to the hustle and flow of busy people engaged in the task at hand. We made our way to the auditorium. The room was full of searchers wearing reflective yellow vests, hiking boots, dirty jeans and weary expressions on their faces. Searchers are a rare breed. It takes a special kind of person to return time after time to trudge around in sometimes hostile territory, avoiding rattlesnakes, scorpions and the other pitfalls of rural nature, all the while looking for evidence of crime. I know that I am not a natural searcher. I don’t want to find what they are seeking. I don’t want to stare down critters or crawlers and I don’t particularly want to wade into the mulch. But God bless those who do. Without search and rescue volunteers we would have nothing, and missing persons would rarely be located.


The two Cathy’s and I requested the attention of the reporters in attendance. While they set up their cameras and microphones I gave the two Cathy’s a brief overview of the search effort to date. By 1:00 p.m. 471 people had registered to search on this day alone, bringing the three day total to 1,366 searchers. Today we had sent out 41 search teams and had extended the search radius to more than eight miles from ground zero. We talked briefly about the ever stronger relationship with law enforcement and how responsive they had become anytime that a potential clue was reported. All in all I was very proud of our volunteers.


“Excuse me,” I said loudly. When I was ignored I tried again, more loudly. Finally, when I had everybody’s attention, when all eyes were turned towards me I realized that I was in a bind. For the first time since I don’t remember when I was speechless. Actually, I do remember the last time I was speechless. It was the day after Polly was kidnapped. Violet and I drove to Petaluma and were walking to Polly’s house. The scene was right out of an episodic crime drama. Crime scene tape surrounded the perimeter of her yard. Plain clothed and uniformed police officers were moving about purposefully. Television microwave trucks were parked up and down the block, their antenna’s uncoiled as reporters stood around with microphones in their hands. As I approached the house one of the reporters, who I recognized from the local news, approached me. She asked if I was the little girl’s father and I said that I was. She asked if she could interview me. I declined because I simply didn’t know what to say.


Finally, when the room was quiet I spit it out. “Ladies and gentlemen, what you have done here this week is amazing. Your response to Sierra’s plight sets a new bar for community response. Now, I would like to introduce you to the two Cathy’s, from Intero Real Estate Services. Cathy, please, would you like to say a few words,” I asked addressing the first Cathy.

It has been said that the easiest way to suffer a broken arm in Morgan Hill is to get between Marc Klaas and a television camera. I take offense at that statement, but cannot control what other people say. In fact, that is why I never Google myself. But, I digress.

The first Cathy stepped up to the microphones, still flushed crimson and said, “Intero Real Estate Services would like to present the KlaasKids Foundation with $12,000 to be used in the search for Sierra LaMar.” The room erupted in cheers. It was an awesome and dramatic moment that I will never forget. Even the television reporters were smiling, and if you didn’t already know, television reporters rarely smile.

Then the second Cathy stepped up to the microphones, still flushed crimson and said, “This money was donated by our agents, brokers and office staff in $10 and $20 increments. Since yesterday the amount has doubled and doubled and doubled yet again. We are proud to make this donation and believe that business has to support the communities that give them success.”


All week long I have thought that the volunteers have set a new standard. Now I believe that the business and volunteer communities have taken an unprecedented stand to a new and higher level than ever before. I hope that other communities are paying attention, because one thing that I have learned these past 19-years is that crimes against children do not discriminate. We are all vulnerable to the forces of evil!

Sierra LaMar: Anatomy of a Search Day 3

Today was about routine. People were getting to know each other. They were finding their comfort zone, where they fit in; whether that meant going on a ground search, serving food, or assuming one of the other myriad jobs that require focused attention. As yesterday’s chaos subsided, the Find Sierra Search Center bloomed like a summer rose.
Everybody acknowledges that time is the enemy when children are stolen. This can be demonstrated in many ways. Statistically, seventy-four percent of children who are murdered as a result of being abducted are dead within the first three hours. At KlaasKids our tagline is, “A mile a minute…that is how fast your child can disappear.” According to personal research about eighty percent of children who are kidnapped live within 3 to 4 miles of a major Interstate Highway. Each of these examples screams that there is no time to lose. Therefore, if one is going to organize a community based search effort efficiency is the key. Time, energy, and resources cannot be wasted.
Think of it as building a corporation from scratch on the turn of personal catastrophe. Your child has just been kidnapped, you are out of your mind with worry, your anxiety level is ramped up to the max, and you have to build a successful business venture without a clue. You have to be an administrative, organizational, media, hygiene, and search and rescue expert. You have to find a location that will provide ample parking, several rooms for numerous tasks, the ability to feed numerous people, plumbing, electricity, and toilets. You need the wherewithal to assign viable search locations for groups of strangers who need to be trained before they can be sent into the field, then you have to convey all of that information to television, print, radio and Internet media. You haven’t eaten in days, sleep comes fitfully, you cannot focus, and you are denying nightmare scenarios every time that you allow your mind to rest. It is impossible to do on your own. I know, because I’ve been there.
That is where family, friends, community and the KlaasKids Foundation come in. Hillary Clinton is correct: it does take a village to raise a child. Family will keep you close and watch your back. Friends and neighbors will give you food and comfort. The community should rally behind you with a collective desire to assist. Unfortunately, they do not know how to do that because what has just occurred is beyond anybody’s experience. The possibilities are so damned frightening that nobody even wants to acknowledge, let alone think about them. So, the army is mobilized, waiting, anxious to help, but without direction or leadership.
The KlaasKids Foundation and our good friends at the Laura Recovery have played out this scenario numerous times throughout the years. Once we have been invited to assist by either the family or the jurisdictional law enforcement agency we get to work. We know facility, administrative and resource requirements. We have local and national media lists. We beg, borrow or buy support items including office supplies, food, lodging, and staging areas. Our search and rescue director has more than two decades of experience. If we are fortunate local NPO’s like Child Quest International will provide valuable resources. Once we build the infrastructure we try to build trust with the family, community and jurisdictional law enforcement agency. We don’t try to get around the system: we work with the system.
 If, by working together, we can create mutual trust then the sky is the limit. The authorities will share viable search areas. The community will respond in large numbers in numerous ways. The family will know that they are not alone and be able to face their nightmare with the knowledge that every possible thing is being done to recover their missing child. It has happened before, it is happening now, and unfortunately, it will happen in the future. Again and again and again…

Sierra LaMar: Anatomy of a Search Day 2


Yesterday was about organization, but today is all about action. It overwhelmed us like a human tsunami. A wave of volunteers descended upon the Find Sierra Search Center to help find the missing 15-year-old girl. We were optimistically prepared for 150-volunteers, based upon the bubbling cauldron of anticipation that we all detected. However we were not prepared for 583-people to show up early on a cool, gray Tuesday morning. Are there really that many unemployed people in Morgan Hill, CA., or was something else going on? I like to think that all of these caring people had found a higher calling than a paycheck for at least this one day. Sometimes it takes the worsts of humanity to inspire the best of humanity.

It was dark and raining when I left home this morning so I dressed for the weather. However, by the time I approached Morgan Hill, the sun had appeared over the horizon and the sky was somewhat overcast, but it looked like the weather was going to cooperate with Find Sierra for at least one more day. The nearer I got to the search center the more I focused on the details: is she in that pile of dirt, hiding in that abandoned building, somewhere on that high ridge? Is she waiting to be rescued like Elizabeth Smart, or was she trying to effect an escape like 8-year-old Midsi Sanchez succeeded in doing back in 2000.

I thought a lot about Polly on the 90-minute drive to Morgan Hill: how much hope I had at a similar stage in the search, while at the same time trying desperately to hold onto my sanity as the world I knew suddenly ceased to exist, to be replaced by a bizarro world that had no rhyme or reason.

We know so much more now than we did then, and we have so many more tools. Parents have a world of resources that simply didn’t exist in 1993; law enforcement responds more quickly and with a better understanding of the issue, yet Sierra is as invisible today as Polly was between October 1 and December 4, 1993. It infuriates me that I cannot make 2+2=4 and walk this girl into the loving arms of her family. Instead, 2+2=5, or 11, or nothing at all and Sierra is nowhere to be found.

Polly was the first missing child on the Internet, and now almost two decades later Sierra LaMar is all over the Internet. Polly’s case benefited from some technically astute minds in Northern California at a time when personal computers were just beginning to gain widespread acceptance. When they told me that a first generation flyer could be downloaded anywhere on the planet they might as well have been speaking in tongues. But being a missing child on the Internet helped Polly to become almost as well known on the East Coast as she was in Sonoma County.


Sierra LaMar is all over the Internet. Her missing poster is my Facebook profile picture. There are at least three Facebook pages dedicated to her plight and all are providing updates, pictures, story and video links. She also has her own social media accounts. Unfortunately, none have been used since shortly before she disappeared early in the morning on Friday, March 16. That a socially sophisticated teenager with more than 6,000 twitter posts would go cold turkey is an enormous red flag. That her final tweet can be traced to shortly before her disappearance helps to establish a viable timeline. Unfortunately, as far as the Internet has come and despite the fact that Facebook has become the 21st Century milk carton project Sierra LaMar is still missing.

Davina, Me, Midsi
In 2000, 8-year-old Midsi Sanchez was kidnapped by a predatory turd who kept her chained inside his car for three days. At an opportune moment, when her perv left her alone in the car for a moment, Midsi grabbed the keychain that was still in the ignition and systematically went through his keys until she was able to unlock her shackles. Midsi ran, he followed. My very good friend Midsi was at the search center today, the walking turd died in prison in 2009 after admitting to killing two other children. Midsi and her friend Davina are organizing this weekend’s Teen Brigade so that Sierra’s friends can join this unprecedented community effort to bring her home.

This afternoon Sierra’s parents announced the Sierra LaMar Fund, established to help with the costs associated with Sierra’s search and rescue efforts, and to fund a reward for information leading to Sierra’s recovery.  Her dad asked the public to contribute to the fund. Contributions can be made directly to the Sierra LaMar Fund at any Chase Bank, or online through the Fundrazr link available at Find Sierra LaMar. Sierra’s mom expressed her gratitude for the amazing show of support.

I’ve been sitting at this desk, looking out the window for about an hour now, and I just watched a woman scrape dog poop off of her boot. For a minute there I thought I was in Paris.


Breaking News: The Santa Clara County Sheriff today reclassified Sierra’s case from missing person to involuntary missing person. Investigators have treated this case as a possible crime since the beginning and now believe it is highly unlikely she ran away.  

Sierra Lamar: Anatomy of a Search Day 1

Unable to get away until 10:00 a.m. I fielded 17-phone calls, all related to the disappearance of Sierra LaMar, by the time I arrived at the search center at noon. Located about two miles from Sierra’s Morgan Hill, CA home, Burnett Elementary School was generously provided to the search effort for at least the next several weeks by the local school board.  With access to an auditorium, administrative offices and classrooms that can be used for mapping, food & water storage, debriefing and quiet time, this is as ideal a search center as I have ever seen.

KlaasKids Search and Rescue (SAR) Director Brad Dennis, and Dawn Davis from the Friendswood, TX based Laura Recovery Center were already dispatching volunteers in an effort to have the search center fully operational by 8:00 a.m. Tuesday morning (3/17/12) when the first community searches will begin. I attempted to get the attendant volunteer leaders attention for a few moments, but quickly acknowledged the futility of herding cats. The apparent chaos of the moment was but an illusion. Brad and Dawn have been organizing volunteer searches together for more than a decade and don’t waste a move.

Before arriving I stopped at Carl’s Jr. and picked up lunch for the three of us as well as Michelle Le’s brother Michael and LaMar family friend Brian Miller.  For some reason this case has captured the attention of local and national media, so I wasn’t surprised to find a half dozen television microwave trucks dotting the parking lot when I arrived. On the other hand I was surprised that the reporters documented every moment of my lunch delivery. With tax the $6 combo meals came out to $6.66 each and I got some pretty bad indigestion about an hour after eating the burger. Sure hope that Isn’t an omen.

After lunch and the volunteer meet and greet Brad, Michael and I went to scout some search locations. We arrived back at the search center close to 3:00 p.m. with preliminary assignments for at least half a dozen 8-member search teams. Morgan Hill is nestled at the base of the Diablo mountain range. The average elevation of the Diablo range is about 3,000 feet. A summit at over 2,300 feet is considered high, mainly because the range is mostly rolling grassland and plateaus, punctuated by sudden peaks. Canyons usually are 300–400 feet deep and valleys are deeper but gentler. It is not the most inviting topography we have had the challenge of searching, but neither is it the most hostile. Wait! Diablo means devil. Sure hope that isn’t an omen.
Michael Le, Dawn Davis, Brian Miller, Marcia Slacke, Brad Dennis
At 5:00 p.m., as Sierra’s parents Steve and Marlene met with our search management team, a bunch of Little Leaguers streamed by to play a game on the school’s baseball diamond. Sierra is still missing, but I believe that we are getting to know each other and trust each other. This is always a trying time because we are all staring into an uncertain future seeing different shades of light at the end of the tunnel.

That damned burger is still having its way with my digestive system. I think that I’ll go watch the kids play baseball for a while. It’s been a long day and I want to do something normal.

Breaking News: The Giants beat the Yankees 43 to 31, proving the dominance of the West Coast yet again.

Join The Search for Sierra LaMar!


Sierra LaMar was walking to catch a school bus in Morgan Hill, CA on March 16, 2012 when she disappeared. “It’s like she literally vanished,” said Sierra’s mother Marlene LaMar.

Despite well-coordinated searches by law enforcement, Sierra is still missing. Sierra’s mother has called on the KlaasKids Foundation to organize a community volunteer search. The Friendswood, TX based Laura Recovery Center will assist in the Find Sierra Search effort. The search is also being aided by San Jose, CA based Child Quest International, Inc.

 Brad Dennis, Director of Search Operations for the KlaasKids Foundation has announced that volunteer searches will begin on Tuesday, March 27, 2012 at 8 a.m.  The Find Sierra Search Center is located at Burnett Elementary Schoolat 85 Tilton Avenue in Morgan Hill, CA.

Individuals who would like to participate in the search for Sierra should check in at the Burnett Elementary School between the hours of 8:00 a.m. and 1:00 p.m. on Tuesday, March 27th. Searches will be conducted throughout the week, commencing at 8:00 a.m. daily through and including Sunday, April 1, 2012.

Volunteers must be at least 18 years of age and bring photo identification. “Dress appropriately for the weather, wear long pants and sturdy, covered toe shoes. We need people who can do foot searches as well as individuals who are willing to work in the search center,” explained Dennis.  “We are also looking for donations of bottled water and office supplies.”

For more information about the search or information on how you can donate supplies, volunteers can call Tricia Griffiths at (801) 560-1933, or email info@klaaskids.org.

The KlaasKids Foundation is a non-profit 501(c) (3) public benefit corporation determined to stop crimes against children and assists families of missing children. Please visit www.klaaskids.org for more information. 

What Should Have Happened – Polly Klaas

On October 2, 1993 Polly and the two girls who spent the night at her slumber party woke up at about 9:00 am, rolled up their sleeping bags, washed up, brushed their teeth and ate blueberry pancakes for breakfast. They’d been up the night before playing Nintendo and a favorite board game called Perfect Match. After Kate and Gillian left about an hour later Polly helped her mom Eve and half-sister Annie pack for their weekend trip to Monterey, about three-hours down the coast from their home in Petaluma, CA. On the way to the car Polly locked the back door, which had been left unlocked the night before. Polly was spending the weekend with her dad in Sausalito

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This should have happened because Richard Allen Davis was properly denied parole at a hearing three months previously. Davis was a known threat to society. When he was a child Davis tortured and killed animals. During the course of his extensive criminal history he was sentenced to more than 200 years behind bars. In 1978 he was diagnosed as a sexually sadistic psychopath. He chose to victimize women who were isolated and alone.
On June 27, 1993 Davis was paroled after serving less than half of a sixteen-year-sentence for kidnapping, pistol whipping, and robbing $6,000 from his victim. During August and September 1993, many people in Petaluma crossed paths with Richard Allen Davis. On September 27, Daryl Stone went to Wickersham Park, diagonally across the street from Polly’s house. He passed within twenty feet of Richard Davis who was sitting on a park bench with a heavy set, ruddy complexioned woman about a hundred and fifty yards from Polly’s house. Davis was wearing dirty jeans and a sweatshirt with cut sleeves. They were drinking liquor from a bottle in a paper bag, talking loudly. Their demeanor and attitude disgusted Stone. He did not want to be in the park with the crude couple, so he went home, one block away.
What should have happened is that he called the police who then dispatched a patrolman to the scene. Because the interaction was prompted by a citizen complaint the officer had probable cause to run a criminal history on the crude, disheveled drifter whose arms were covered in prison tattoos. The officer arrested him on the spot because Davis, who did not live in Petaluma, was in violation of his parole. The career criminal was returned to San Quentin prison to serve out the remainder of his sentence for kidnapping and pistol whipping his previous victim.
California lawmakers, unconcerned with public safety, released Davis from prison in 2001. Three months later Davis was loitering in Sausalito, California’s Dunphy Park. He had been spending quite a lot of time in that park lately because he had his eye on a pretty and carefree twelve-year-old girl who passed by daily. It was a balmy spring afternoon when he stole a bicycle that belonged to one of a group of boys that were fishing along the shoreline. He was immediately arrested.
Given the nature of his criminal history the Marin County District Attorney decided to prosecute Davis under California’s Three-Strikes-and-You’re Out penalty enhancement statute. Davis was convicted and sentenced to twenty-five-years to life in prison. He died before his sentence was completed.

This is what should have happened. Too bad reality got in the way and no one was held accountable and hearts were broken. Life goes on.