Your Honor.... I appreciate this opportunity to speak. I would like to mention that in an attempt to be concise; this statement was written by me in the first person. It does however directly reflect the feelings and sentiments shared by Chris' Dad, his brother, Drew and sister, Amy; his family and extended family; our friends and the many, many friends of Chris.

When I was in college, I had a psychology professor who conducted her class in a non-traditional manner. We were never quite sure what her agenda would be.
During class one day she made a statement that has had a profound impact on my entire life. I have used it as a guideline for decisions that I have made throughout my adult life as well as for many of the principles that I have tried to instill in my children as they were growing up. They often knew what I was going to say before the words came out. That statement is this: In order to live a mature and responsible life you must be prepared to:
* make a decision
* take the risk and
* pay the price

In the past year, I have unquestionably felt the impact of that phrase more dramatically than at any other time in my life. Indeed, On November 5, 1997, a decision was made, a risk was taken and now the price is being paid by many. Despite the fact that we personally had no part in that decision making process; nor did we or Chris have any association with those who did, our lives have been permanently and dramatically altered and the life we once knew and loved has ended forever. The primary victim was Christopher Lars Maki. He was above all things, a beloved son, brother, grandson, nephew, cousin and friend. An energetic and conscientious worker, he was highly respected by colleagues and co-workers for many things, not the least being his intelligence, his integrity and his loyalty. Most of all, Chris was an inherently good and kind person who loved people and who formed deep and lasting friendships in the many places he lived, worked and socialized. He had not one enemy in the world. I never knew Chris to have a serious conflict with anyone...it was totally abhorrent to his nature. This is but a brief profile of the 5'4" 30 year old human being who while innocently walking to his apartment was attacked, robbed, stabbed (31 times) and left alone to die in the early morning hours of November 5, 1997. His funeral was on November 10, 1997; exactly one year ago today.
This was my first-born child; one of the true joys of my life; this was my beloved son.

How and why did this happen? There is never a logical reason or answer to random acts of violence. We live in a world where violence is glorified, sensationalized, and often times excused. There is a lack of accountability for actions taken. One week ago we were here in this courtroom hopeful that there would be some resolve to this case. We were informed then that two of the defendants wanted to be able to discuss their sentencing options with their moms. How we would have liked it if Chris had been afforded the same consideration before receiving his sentence. Chris lived his entire life within the guidelines of the system. All that is left for him now is that the system be made to work for him. He deserves at least that much. My family and I are forever faced with an incredible loss; a pain and hurt that is beyond description. Each and every relationship we have has been affected. We are and have always been a very close family unit, and extended family; who are bonded by love and friendship. Each joyous occasion now is forever marked with the absence of Chris. He is gone! He will never come home again. We are continually haunted by the vision of his final terrifying moments. This is an issue that I am particularly sensitive to. As a Registered Nurse for over thirty years, I am well acquainted with the dying process. Death is a natural and inevitable part of life for each and every one of us. However certain it is for us, there is also a basic, inherent fear associated with it. It is the fear of the unknown; the fear of being alone; perhaps even, the fear of pain. It was not always easy to hold the hand of a dying person, to try in some way to make them comfortable, but it was always gratifying to know that in their final moments on this earth, my presence there was a source of peace and comfort to them and to their families. No one was there for Chris. No one held his hand. We wonder if he called out our names or if he felt much pain. Mostly we think of how terrified and lonely he must have felt. He died all alone in a strange city for no reason other than he happened to be walking home at a time when three killers decided he was an easy target for something they wanted. They did what they set out to do and then coldly and deliberately they moved on, never once glancing back. We are understandably frustrated and angry. Fighting this anger is a constant challenge and struggle. Not to someday meet this challenge would give you his killers a power that you do not deserve to have. We will not allow this to happen. Chris did not have the physical strength to win over you on that tragic November night but we, his family and friends are finding strength in our unity and our love; and through the memory and the spirit of all that Chris was.

There have been other victims as well. Your families and loved ones now must face the consequences of your actions. Their lives have also changed; their world will not be the same. They are forced to live with the knowledge that through the actions of someone they love, an innocent young man's life was violently taken from him and that left behind are family and friends whose lives are tragically and permanently altered. Like us, they may have anger, loss and frustration but, unlike us, they still have hope. You are still alive. They can see you, speak to you, maybe even at some point they can hug you. I would give most anything for another one of Chris' hugs, or to pick up the phone and hear his ..."Hey"...as only he could say it. To once again hear the words..."I love you Mom" and that unique, infectious giggle that was so characteristic of Chris.
I have no idea what life will be for you now. Quite honestly, I do not care. You made a decision, you took the risk and thank God...you are now paying a price. ..not enough of a price to be sure, but a price. Nothing will bring Chris back. Despite the limitations set upon you, you do have the option of choosing what direction your life will take from this moment on. There will someday be another verdict. In the end, the very end you will then be judged by the One who will judge us all. We are now left with only our memories. We cherish each and every picture we have of Chris, especially those taken at his sister's wedding. That was the last time he was home; the last time we were all together. There are his books, clothes and special possessions of his that we cannot bring ourselves to part with. It is all that is left of Chris and when we do let them go, it seems to be, as it really is, so very, very final . All that is tangible. We do have many memories of the beautiful, blue-eyed, blond haired, happy little boy he once was and the honorable, loving, decent and sensitive man that he became. We are enormously proud of that, we always will be. Nothing you have done, or may do in the future will ever alter that..
We are forever grateful for the gift, however short lived of our Chris. He was small of stature but so very rich in character. In the words of Chaucer's Prologue to The Canterbury Tales..."he was a very gentle knight"
In Loving Memory
Christopher Lars Maki
"Chris" December 19, 1966 - November 5, 1997