Tuesday, April 22, 2014
a fork on the road
Thank you all inmensely for the hard work that you so graciously have contributed to my family's cause, the parole of my son, Edward Vejar.
As I mentioned, this walk has been a long walk. Forty-seven miles that determined his fate became a thirteen year walk for us. In this path, I have felt the turmoil in me turn to strength. I have felt your prayers, your love, your acceptance. I have felt your hand take mine. Thank you.
Your walk with me has involved much counseling from professors, law authority and representatives from community projects of social change. It encased book drives for donation to prison, letter writing, hunger strike representations, in-person petition signing and online petition signing. You have done tremendous work beyond my belief. Thank you.
Our communities can only be made strong through transperancy and trust. One can only hope our leaders follow the same. As a community, we can only be made strong through unity. One can only hope our leaders follow the same. As a community, we must persevere for better representation and justice. We have. We will.
The outcome of my son's parole hearing is not yet known. Whatever the outcome, his incarceration has not been in vein--many positive things have risen because of this, including your friendship and support. Thank you.
I lift mine eyes unto the Lord...
Monday, April 7, 2014
Petition to Grant Edward VEJAR parole
http://www.change.org/petitions/california-dept-of-corrections-and-rehabilitation-parole-board-committee-petition-to-grant-edward-vejar-parole?recruiter=84398370 
Monday, March 31, 2014
Opening my window
To my beloved friends, some may wonder why I’ve sent this story. The story is mine, that is, it happened to my family.
I cannot tell you how much impact one life can have over many. As my son has been imprisoned inside the walls of deprivation, I have become imprisoned inside my own feelings. I have barred the windows to my heart. I have locked the flow of happiness and joy inside of me. I have not been out, and neither has he. It will be fourteen years this year, but many of you who knew me before know that I have shelled . The smiles of a carefree Lisa are now the smiles to keep up appearance. This is the impact one life has had over me.
To those who are just reading this for the first time, I apologize for not being frank. Our friendship is worth so much to me. But most people would agree that there are some things one must keep quiet, and I felt this was one of them. Perhaps now you understand why I have become a serious person. It would not be very gracious of me to give you all my woes and troubles. The world has enough.
I break my silence today because I want to share with you the aggravation and hope I feel in me. Edward is up for consideration of parole on April 22nd. His initial sentence was 12 years. Not having the right legal council at the time led us to decide on a trial by jury. The jury decided he was guilty--this was to sentence Edward to two consecutive life terms with the possibility of parole after 14 years.
I had complete confidence in the law, but did not realize there was so much flaw in its system. I watched on but now I must act.
I ask my friends and family and those reading this post that you walk with me. I ask that you write a letter of support to release Edward Vejar and grant him parole. If you can provide training or employement, I ask you to have good faith in Edward Vejar and write a letter stating you are willing to offer him employment.
Time is brief. Deadline near so please reply soon. I will give you detailed information if you message me.
I am profoundly grateful for the friends and family support that I have. Walk with me. Walk with me.
I break my silence today because I want to share with you the aggravation and hope I feel in me. Edward is up for consideration of parole on April 22nd. His initial sentence was 12 years. Not having the right legal council at the time led us to decide on a trial by jury. The jury decided he was guilty--this was to sentence Edward to two consecutive life terms with the possibility of parole after 14 years.
I had complete confidence in the law, but did not realize there was so much flaw in its system. I watched on but now I must act.
I ask my friends and family and those reading this post that you walk with me. I ask that you write a letter of support to release Edward Vejar and grant him parole. If you can provide training or employement, I ask you to have good faith in Edward Vejar and write a letter stating you are willing to offer him employment.
Time is brief. Deadline near so please reply soon. I will give you detailed information if you message me.
I am profoundly grateful for the friends and family support that I have. Walk with me. Walk with me.
Letter to Parole Hearing Committee Information
Here is the complete information for all. Thank you again for your kindness, effort and support.
1) send original letter no latter than April 8th. It takes about two weeks for Edward to receive letters and Board needs time to read all letters in time.
Counselor: CCI-HOGG
Salinas State Prison
Facility C, Building 3
PO Box 1050
Soledad, CA 93960
2) email me a copy contact_alonso@yahoo.com
Your letter should be as in this example:
Parole Board Hearing Committee Date
Salinas Valley State Prison
PO Box 1050
Soledad, CA 93960
Your name
Your Address
Your City, State, Zip Code
Subject: Edward Vejar T-91148
Initial Parole Suitability Hearing
Dear Parole Board Hearing Committee,
Introduce yourself. I am Jane Doe, and I know of Edward Vejar through his mother's accounts/he is my friend, etc. I have known Eddie all of my life and have formed a lasting relationship with him and his family. Establish how and if you know of Eddie or his case.
Establish credibility. Why should they listen to you?
State your support. Your reason to believe that his parole will be successful. No human should be behind bars for such a long time. Eddie has been behind bars for over 13 years. He lost his young adulthood. State time 14 years in September 2014. State there is hope. You are his support.
State that it all falls on their decision. They can choose to see potential in the young life of Eddie.
Thank you. Signature City, County
1) send original letter no latter than April 8th. It takes about two weeks for Edward to receive letters and Board needs time to read all letters in time.
Counselor: CCI-HOGG
Salinas State Prison
Facility C, Building 3
PO Box 1050
Soledad, CA 93960
2) email me a copy contact_alonso@yahoo.com
Your letter should be as in this example:
Parole Board Hearing Committee Date
Salinas Valley State Prison
PO Box 1050
Soledad, CA 93960
Your name
Your Address
Your City, State, Zip Code
Subject: Edward Vejar T-91148
Initial Parole Suitability Hearing
Dear Parole Board Hearing Committee,
Introduce yourself. I am Jane Doe, and I know of Edward Vejar through his mother's accounts/he is my friend, etc. I have known Eddie all of my life and have formed a lasting relationship with him and his family. Establish how and if you know of Eddie or his case.
Establish credibility. Why should they listen to you?
State your support. Your reason to believe that his parole will be successful. No human should be behind bars for such a long time. Eddie has been behind bars for over 13 years. He lost his young adulthood. State time 14 years in September 2014. State there is hope. You are his support.
State that it all falls on their decision. They can choose to see potential in the young life of Eddie.
Thank you. Signature City, County
Forty-Seven Miles
Forty-Seven Miles is a long walk. Walk with me, friend...
forty-seven miles
on the worn-out leather steering wheel.
It’s June and I have my car at last! Sixteen months, repair after repair- I have the keys at hand. Its sporty appearance hides under the thickned layers of dust. The luster of its black gloss paint is no longer apparent yet I still feel his warm prescence within i...ts cold steel chassis.
An old volume of Sports Illustrated, a pair of inline skates and a kite rested to the far corner of the trunk. Memories came as my hands ran the scattered remnance of its inside.
The keys danced to the jingle as they turned the lock in the trunk. Immaculate- as I had seen it last. I wanted to feel his company, I wanted to feel his hands reach for mine as I turned the keys to open the door. I was the first to open this car after the horrible incident sixteen months prior. The leather interior was immaculate as usual. The carpet stood near new with the exception of a spill that a lunch bag had created. The lunch bag held an old Chinese Take-out box that lay half-open in the back; its food had been spilled during a sharp turn or something. Many dried maggots surrounded the box and some had made their way up the back seat. Those fortunate to have developed into flies found themselves trapped and many of them perished silently by my rear speakers. Smell of dead flies. Smell of leather. Stillness and silence at this fly cemetery.
“Edward, why are you not here?” my thoughts raced, “I miss you so much.” I sat in the driver’s seat hoping that I would feel his presence once again. With my eyes closed, my hands made their way to the steering wheel, which I knew, had felt his hands for the last time. My hands searched frantically for his feel.
The trip odometer counter read forty-seven miles. I was the one who had reset the odometer that morning. Where and what had occurred during those forty-seven miles?
on grief; public apathy; seeing your loved one in others.
The car had been detailed and washed several times by now. It regained its cute personality but life was not the same for me. They say that loss has its many stages--sorrow and lamentation lingered. I could not come to closure, it was not time yet. I found comfort in the company of others. It was not before long before I realized my interaction with others was trying to emulate my interaction with my lost son, Edward. I began to see Edward in the boy walking down the street holding his father’s hand, I saw him in the twelve-year olds riding their bikes around the lake and was constantly reminded of his youthful ways and good qualities.
forty-seven miles; a lifetime away.
The things I remember that particular September morning that led to my sad state of spirit are very clear. He packed his items for the day as I got ready for work. He had planned to finish his school very soon and hoped continue on to college. Yes, there are tidbits of confrontations that a boy must run across in his life, but neither Ed nor I had any idea his confrontation would involve such a high complicated level. We took my car as customary and headed for my work. He dropped me off and then routed to his school.
...I still think of that day. I imagine him driving at high speeds on the freeway with police chasing him, I imagine his thoughts racing- knowing that he had done wrong. I can imagine his regret at not being able to go back to his morning ritual and start over again. He was young, defiant and brown. Forty-seven miles he had to turn fate around. Forty-seven miles of fear for authority, forty-seven miles to defy authority, forty-seven miles to give in to his seduction to adventure. Wrongfully so, those forty-seven miles led him a life-time of a distance from his family, from his friends, and from his freedom.
work under pressure; deadlines; dead lines.
His sentencing to life in prison has changed both our lives. He is the son I will never caress again. I am the mother he will never kiss. He has been a thirteen year tenant so far of the correctional system. I believed in our justice system, I also believed in our due process- but this case has shown me otherwise.
Commitment; change.
It is hard for many people to even imagine the level of emotional, physical and mental stress that drains my life, but the memory of him renews my daily life.
Trials can bring out the best in you. Weakness brings strength, and ignorance incites knowledge. I am patient with time, for I know that sooner if not later, I will embrace my son as I had that last morning.
forty-seven miles
on the worn-out leather steering wheel.
It’s June and I have my car at last! Sixteen months, repair after repair- I have the keys at hand. Its sporty appearance hides under the thickned layers of dust. The luster of its black gloss paint is no longer apparent yet I still feel his warm prescence within i...ts cold steel chassis.
An old volume of Sports Illustrated, a pair of inline skates and a kite rested to the far corner of the trunk. Memories came as my hands ran the scattered remnance of its inside.
The keys danced to the jingle as they turned the lock in the trunk. Immaculate- as I had seen it last. I wanted to feel his company, I wanted to feel his hands reach for mine as I turned the keys to open the door. I was the first to open this car after the horrible incident sixteen months prior. The leather interior was immaculate as usual. The carpet stood near new with the exception of a spill that a lunch bag had created. The lunch bag held an old Chinese Take-out box that lay half-open in the back; its food had been spilled during a sharp turn or something. Many dried maggots surrounded the box and some had made their way up the back seat. Those fortunate to have developed into flies found themselves trapped and many of them perished silently by my rear speakers. Smell of dead flies. Smell of leather. Stillness and silence at this fly cemetery.
“Edward, why are you not here?” my thoughts raced, “I miss you so much.” I sat in the driver’s seat hoping that I would feel his presence once again. With my eyes closed, my hands made their way to the steering wheel, which I knew, had felt his hands for the last time. My hands searched frantically for his feel.
The trip odometer counter read forty-seven miles. I was the one who had reset the odometer that morning. Where and what had occurred during those forty-seven miles?
on grief; public apathy; seeing your loved one in others.
The car had been detailed and washed several times by now. It regained its cute personality but life was not the same for me. They say that loss has its many stages--sorrow and lamentation lingered. I could not come to closure, it was not time yet. I found comfort in the company of others. It was not before long before I realized my interaction with others was trying to emulate my interaction with my lost son, Edward. I began to see Edward in the boy walking down the street holding his father’s hand, I saw him in the twelve-year olds riding their bikes around the lake and was constantly reminded of his youthful ways and good qualities.
forty-seven miles; a lifetime away.
The things I remember that particular September morning that led to my sad state of spirit are very clear. He packed his items for the day as I got ready for work. He had planned to finish his school very soon and hoped continue on to college. Yes, there are tidbits of confrontations that a boy must run across in his life, but neither Ed nor I had any idea his confrontation would involve such a high complicated level. We took my car as customary and headed for my work. He dropped me off and then routed to his school.
...I still think of that day. I imagine him driving at high speeds on the freeway with police chasing him, I imagine his thoughts racing- knowing that he had done wrong. I can imagine his regret at not being able to go back to his morning ritual and start over again. He was young, defiant and brown. Forty-seven miles he had to turn fate around. Forty-seven miles of fear for authority, forty-seven miles to defy authority, forty-seven miles to give in to his seduction to adventure. Wrongfully so, those forty-seven miles led him a life-time of a distance from his family, from his friends, and from his freedom.
work under pressure; deadlines; dead lines.
His sentencing to life in prison has changed both our lives. He is the son I will never caress again. I am the mother he will never kiss. He has been a thirteen year tenant so far of the correctional system. I believed in our justice system, I also believed in our due process- but this case has shown me otherwise.
Commitment; change.
It is hard for many people to even imagine the level of emotional, physical and mental stress that drains my life, but the memory of him renews my daily life.
Trials can bring out the best in you. Weakness brings strength, and ignorance incites knowledge. I am patient with time, for I know that sooner if not later, I will embrace my son as I had that last morning.
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