Judge Hands Microsoft Executive Killer Life Sentence

[00:00:00] Speaker 1: Are the parties ready to proceed the sentencing? Yes, Your Honor. The state will request to proceed the sentencing. I provided defense counsel and Mr. Hathaway with a copy of the defendant's guidelines. They do not apply to the first-degree murder charge. However, there are guidelines as to count to the solicitation, 13.5 months up to life. I'm sorry, up to 30 years. And obviously count as a mandatory life sentence. The state is also requesting to present victim impact statements from members of the Bridegan family. We have six statements. I also have a slide, I have some photographs that I'm going to play on a loop while the members of the family read their statements. And I have provided those to defense counsel and to Mr. Hathaway to file a composite statement in Exhibit 1 to these proceedings. Any objection by the defense? You may proceed. Thank you, Your Honor. The statement first call for the reading of victim impact statement, Ashley Jenkins, the sister of Jared Bridegan. [00:01:10] Speaker 2: Why don't you come all the way forward to be sworn in and have a seat in the witness box, okay? Okay. [00:01:46] Ashley Jenkins: The murder of my brother, Jared Bridegan, changed my life forever. I cannot put into words on paper what a broken heart feels like. It shattered my stability, caused me to experience a sadness that I did not know existed, and brought on a feeling of never feeling safe. My three children were present when I received the unexpected call about Jared's murder. Forever ingrained in their minds, they watched their mom let out a sound that no child should ever hear their mother make, and heard me sob for hours as I cried myself to sleep. I had to go through years of therapy to process grief, a grief that so few people can relate to or understand. How can someone empathize with losing someone to murder? My world crumbled, and my faith briefly left me, and I went numb. I stopped being able to feel, a wall went up, this was far too much for me to bear. Every year, I have to buy a birthday cake for Jared. I sink to an empty chair, and I close my eyes, and I envision that he's there with me. I then had to watch for years as my parents took their little retirement savings and had to fight for the right to see Jared's children. As a result of this murder, they had to take over where Jared left off, paying legal fees every month to gain access to see Jared's kids again. Their goal was always to reunite Jared's kids with Kirsten, and we were the pathway to that. I'm forever scarred every time I see someone changing a tire on the side of the road, hear the sound of an ambulance or a phone call, Or see a black Volkswagen Atlas SUV, and wish that I could see my brother driving in the driver's seat. This murder affected every piece of me, my safety, my marriage, my children, my income, and my well-being. [00:04:27] Speaker ?: Thank you. [00:04:29] Ashley Jenkins: Thank you. [00:04:31] Speaker ?: Thank you. [00:04:33] Speaker 2: The state will call as a witness. [00:04:37] Speaker ?: You have another impact statement? [00:04:41] Speaker 1: Judge Jared Breitigan's father, Gaylor Breitigan, is present on Zoom to read his victim impact statement. [00:04:53] Speaker 2: If you'll, um, pen his... [00:05:03] Speaker ?: Okay. [00:05:05] Speaker 4: Mr. Breitigan, if you would please raise your right hand, sir. If you solemnly swear, or from the testimony you're about to give will be the truth, the whole truth, and nothing but the truth, I hope you got it. [00:05:17] Speaker ?: Yes. [00:05:18] Speaker 4: Thank you. [00:05:19] Speaker 2: Good afternoon. Good afternoon. [00:05:21] Speaker 5: You may proceed. [00:05:22] Speaker ?: Thank you, your honor. [00:05:22] Speaker 5: This crime has left a permanent and devastating mark on my wife and I and our family. We have lost our son, Jared. His absence is felt every single day, and the void he left can never be filled. From the moment we received the news of his death, our lives were shattered. I have never experienced such profound pain and anguish as knowing that my son was murdered and that I was not there to protect him, comfort him, or do anything to help him. And his final moments have replayed in my mind countless times. I find myself wondering what he endured and what he experienced during those final seconds of his life. Knowing that his child was in the car makes the thought even more heartbreaking. I cannot begin to imagine the fear and anguish surrounding those final moments. I am left with the devastating reality that Jared was taken from us. And we will never know his final thoughts. I have the opportunity to hear him tell us one more time how much he loves us. Jared was a loving father who cherished his four children, Liam, Abigail, Bexley, and baby London. We are central to his life. And being their father brought him tremendous joy. He wanted to be present in their lives, watch them grow and share their experiences. The heartbreaking reality is that his life was taken. And he was deprived of the opportunity to continue being the father he so deeply loved being. In the months before his murder, Jared spent countless hours doing things with his children. There was nothing he enjoyed more than being with his kids. He built them a playhouse, played with their dog, rode bikes and skateboards with them, and constantly found fun projects and activities they could enjoy together. He took an active interest in their lives, encouraged them in their sports and games, and supported their interests and accomplishments. He didn't simply spend time with his children. He was actively involved in their lives. He wanted to be part of their everyday experiences, create memories with them and watch them grow. Being their father brought him tremendous joy. His children were not simply part of his life. They were at the center of it. He loved it. At the funeral, my wife and I had to face the unimaginable heartbreaking of watching our 33-year-old son, our youngest son, being laid to rest. Jared was much more than a son. He was someone I could count on. He was the son who would drive miles just to come to my house and help me with my projects. He was the son who would work alongside me, listen to my stories and laugh at my attempts at humor. Those moments, which once seemed like in ordinary parts of life, are now memories I treasured beyond words. Jared was generous with his time, freely shared his talents, and never hesitated to lend a helping hand. He had a wonderful sense of humor and a way of bringing laughter into even the simplest moments. I didn't just lose my son that day. I lost a trusted companion, a helping hand, a source of laughter, and someone I knew I could always count on. I lost the son I expected to have beside me for many more years. Jared and Justin, my oldest son, share the same birthday, June 29. Each year as we celebrate Justin's birthday, we are also reminded of Jared's absence. What should be a day of shared family celebration will forever carry the sadness of knowing Jared is no longer here. Jared should be here with his birthdays, holidays, family gatherings, and ordinary moments that make up a life. He should be watching his children grow, celebrating their milestones, offering advice, and simply being their father. Instead, those moments unfold without him. His absence will be felt for the rest of our lives in the moments both significant and ordinary. I place my trust in God, and I pray that soon justice will be served for our son, Jared. Thank you. [00:10:27] Speaker 2: Thank you very much. Ms. Diffler. Yes, Your Honor. [00:10:38] Speaker 1: The statement will next present a victim impact statement by James Falk, the father-in-law of Jared Bartigan. [00:10:44] Speaker ?: Good afternoon. [00:10:46] Speaker 4: Sir, do you solemnly swear or affirm the testimony you're about to give will be the truth, the whole truth, and nothing but the truth. I hope you've done. I do. [00:11:01] Speaker ?: Thank you. Thank you. Your Honor. [00:11:14] Speaker 6: I am James Falk, father of Kirsten Bartigan, father-in-law of Jared Bartigan, and grandfather of Bexley in London, and bonus grandpa of Liam and Abby. I would first like to express my thanks to the law enforcement and prosecution team that worked so relentlessly and tirelessly to solve this case. And to bring us to this point in the case to find justice for Jared and we are very happy about the recent conviction. May I first address the character of my son-in-law. May I first address the character of my son-in-law, Jared Brightigan. When Kirsten was contemplating marrying Jared, Kirsten's mother Mary Valk and I discussed the potential difficulties of marrying someone with kids and an ex-wife that appeared to be trying to make his life miserable. Kirsten expressed how much she loved Jared and she thought she could help Jared in dealing with his ex-wife and improve the relationship. Although he had difficulties in his previous marriage, we found Jared to be an outstanding husband to Kirsten and a wonderful father to his four children. We couldn't have asked for a better husband or father to our grandkids. He was very involved and was constantly doing fun activities with him. We loved Jared and miss him very much. I was with Kirsten when we went to Shannon Mario's house the morning after his murder. She asked me to go with her because she did not trust them. I remember the twins sobbing and being inconsolable. While the rest of us were attempting to console and comfort the twins, Mario was as cold as ice. Abby asked repeatedly if she could continue to see her sisters and be baptized. Mario's response was very indefinite with no such commitments. A very short time later, contact between Bexley, London and their siblings was terminated and Abby was never baptized. Despite Mario's self-description of himself being a caring stepfather to police, his actions have been just the opposite. He has ruined the lives of the twins in multiple ways, some of which we are just finding out. Because of Jared's murder, we immediately moved in with Kirsten to help her cope with the sudden and dramatic change in her life and the lives of Bexley in London. As everyone can imagine, the sudden loss of a loved one, particularly a spouse and father of your children, the loss is excruciatingly painful. The pain continues to this day. Additionally, the fear of loud noises and sirens frightened Bexley for quite some time. Contrary to what has been stated during the trial and prior hearings, Bexley has experienced long-term effects of physical, mental and emotional distress. A direct result of being present when her father was callously murdered. Because of the loss of Jared, Mary and I have tried to help Kirsten as much as we can. One of the roles that I have played is to try to be a good masculine role model for Bexley in London. While these new responsibilities have significantly altered our retirement plans, we have cherished the time we get to spend with Bexley in London. They are precious, lovely and fun little girls. My mind is often drawn to the thought that as much as I love the time that I get to spend with them, Bexley in London, it is something they ought to be sharing with their father, Jared, and of course, he with them. What a tragic circumstance brought about by these appalling and evil acts. I know Bexley still remembers that tragic evening when her father was murdered in her presence. About a year ago, I heard London ask Bexley, "Bexley, tell me again how daddy died." Bexley then escorted London to the far end of the cul-de-sac where she thought she could speak privately. I tried to hear what she was saying, but the only thing that I heard was one of the last things she said to London. "Don't worry, you will see daddy again." A testament to Bexley's faith instilled by her mother. Kirsten has done a remarkable job as a mother. "Under very trying circumstances." The thought I want to close with is that the impact of this awful and disgusting crime of hatred, ambush, and cold-blooded murder is generational. Yes, it affects the current generation, the husband, father, son, brother, cousin, nephew, friend, and the devastating impact to all. But it also affects future generations. This was brought to my mind about a year ago when Bexley out of the blue said to me, "Grandpa, you know my children will never have a grandpa." This hit me like a ton of bricks because I love the role of being a grandpa to my grandkids. It's a special relationship. In my life, I have found in most cases, the better I get to know someone or get to know about them, the more I like them or even love them. There are a few exceptions, and Mario is one of those exceptions. Because of his evil narcissistic and vile conduct, which continued even after the murder, he has ruined the lives of the twins, our daughter Kirstie, Kirsten, Bexley, London, the Bridegan family, friends for generations. He has also brought shame and embarrassment to his own family. Mario's violent horror actions, which has devastated so many lives, are certainly worthy of a life sentence without the possibility of parole. May I also note that he cannot escape consequences when his life ends, because judgment in the next life will also be just and sure. [00:18:37] Speaker ?: Thank you. Thank you. Thank you. [00:18:55] Speaker 1: Judge the widow of Tara Bridegan. This is Kirsten Bridegan. [00:18:59] Speaker ?: Good afternoon. Good afternoon. Good afternoon. Thank you. Thank you. Thank you. Thank you. I'll just let you get a minute. I'll just let you get a minute. I'll just let you get a minute. Thank you. I'll just let you get a minute. I'll just let you get a minute. I'll just let you get a minute. I'll just let you get a minute. I'll just let you get a minute. I'll just let you get a minute. [00:19:13] Speaker 4: I'll just let you get a minute. I'll just let you get a minute. [00:19:15] Speaker 5: You'll just let you get a minute. [00:19:16] Speaker ?: I'll just let you get a minute. I'll just let you get a minute. I'll just let you get a minute. I'll just let you get a minute. Good afternoon. Good afternoon. Good afternoon. [00:19:23] Speaker 7: There are truly no words adequate to describe the devastation and impact Jared's murder has had on our family. To lose a husband, to have four young children robbed of their father, and to watch an entire family permanently altered by the deliberate and evil choices is a loss that cannot be fully expressed. To be transparent, I don't believe Mario Fernandez has any shred of remorse for what he has done. I also refuse to give him the satisfaction of hearing the full extent of the pain his actions have caused us. Because I believe that knowledge will only serve whatever sense of power and control he has seemingly sought his entire life. He will not receive that from me today. Instead, I ask this court to remember who Jared was. I don't know who Jared was. [00:20:33] Speaker ?: I don't know who Jared was. [00:20:33] Speaker 7: I don't know who Jared was. [00:20:34] Speaker ?: I don't know who Jared was. I don't know who Jared was. I don't know who Jared was. I don't know who Jared was. I don't know who Jared was. I don't know who Jared was. I don't know who Jared was. I don't know who Jared was. I don't know who Jared was. I don't know who Jared was. I don't know who Jared was. I don't know who Jared was. I don't know who Jared was. I don't know who Jared was. I don't know who Jared was. I don't know who Jared was. I don't know who Jared was. I don't know who Jared was. [00:20:53] Speaker 7: And to understand exactly what the world lost when he was murdered. Jared was one of a kind. He looked for reasons to smile and to laugh. Even when life gave him every reason not to. One of his most endearing qualities was the way that he laughed at his own terrible spelling and grammar. During our regular game nights with friends. It was often easy to guess which answer Jared had written. Because he regularly found a new way to spell a word or give a word a completely new meaning. But he was always the first to laugh and took it in stride. Physically Jared was tall, strong and built like an ox as my mother would say. One day while we were shopping at Costco a stranger stopped us. He said he had watched Jared walk past and was so struck by the size and definition of his calves that he had to say something. After suggesting Jared get a cast of his legs and sell the replicas online. The man waved and walked off leaving Jared standing next to him with the most embarrassed look on his face. That was Jared, a gentle giant. Not only was Jared large in stature but he was large in heart. Jared loved deeply and he loved his children fiercely. He found the little things in life that they were excited about and encouraged them to explore their talents. When Abby first expressed interest in gymnastics he built her gymnastics bar in her own backyard. When Liam showed passion for skateboarding Jared took him to skate parks, bought himself a longboard so he could keep up with Liam on family walks. And started outlining plans for a backyard skateboard ramp. A ramp he never got to finish. Jared was a dedicated father despite constant opposition, belittling, psychological warfare and interference from his ex-wife and her family including Mario Fernandez. No matter how difficult they made it Jared pressed on because being present for his children mattered more to him than the cost of doing so. Jared would have willingly given his life to protect any one of us. Tragically his life was taken for simply trying to be there for his children. I hope that fact is never lost on this court. Jared was not a threat. He was not disposable. He was not an inconvenience to be eliminated. He was a husband, a father, a son, a brother, an uncle, a friend and a human being whose life had immense value. He was a man who loved his family and tried every day to be the best version of himself for them. Mario Fernandez for his own selfish reasons decided to take that life away. From what I have learned about Mario through this process since Jared's murder, he has a pattern of preying on those who are smaller and weaker than him, or those he may have some authority over. He knew he would have to approach Jared differently. Mario has always been a small man in comparison to Jared. Small in stature, lacking in integrity, deficient in courage and devoid of honor. If Jared was a gentle giant, Mario was a yappy little dog who had to pay someone else to bite. Mario knew had the fight been fair, the outcome would have been completely different. I understand that only one sentence is applicable to the crime, one of the crimes which Mario has been convicted. So there's little purpose in arguing for the harshest sentence possible. I do however, want the following firmly reflected on the record. The only reason I supported the withdrawal of the death penalty for Mario and his wife was because of the compassion I have for Jared's two oldest children. Compassion that in my experience, neither Mario nor his wife have ever shown them. Those children had their father ripped away from them on purpose. They then had their baby sisters ripped away from them and I was also pushed out of their lives as quickly and as completely as possible. All because of the hatred in Mario and his wife's heart. The children's hearts were not considered. Their grief was not protected. Their relationship with their father and their sisters was not valued. At every turn, the needs and feelings of those children came second to the desires of the adults involved. They deserved better and they continue to deserve better. Even our seven-year-old daughter, who was forced to witness her father's murder at the young age of two, has a clearer moral compass than the adults sitting there convicted of taking his life. When I asked her what she wanted me to tell the court, she simply said, "He is mean and he shouldn't have done it." There's something profoundly devastating about a child having to state a truth that should have been obvious to the adult who ended her father's life. She and her three siblings deserve to grow up knowing their father, not learning how to live without him. I asked this court to recognize the full magnitude of that loss. Our youngest daughter has regularly prayed, "Please let us beat the bad people at the courthouse." Thankfully, we won that first battle. Mario will now spend the remainder of his life sitting with the consequences of the poor choices he made. He cannot undo what he did. He cannot give Jared back to his children. He cannot restore the childhood they were supposed to have with their father and their siblings. He cannot erase the fear, grief, confusion and empty spaces he created in the lives of four innocent children. He also cannot change the fact that all four of them know he was in part responsible for the pain they will endure from the loss of Jared in their lives. Mario will also have to live with everything he sacrificed through his choices. He will spend the rest of his life confined by walls and rules of his own making, separated from the ordinary freedoms and comforts that most of us take for granted. He will never get to experience love that comes from a healthy relationship, having children or being a stand-up citizen because he chose to take steps to end the life of someone else. Someone he could never be. Someone he could only dream of being. Whatever judgment awaits him beyond this courtroom is not mine to deliver, but I find peace in knowing he will have to live with the eternal consequences of his own decisions. Nobody forced that on him. He chose it. There is one more thing I want to make very clear. Mario did not break us. He murdered my husband and changed the course of our lives, but he did not take Jared's spirit from us. His spirit remains in the memories we carry, the stories we tell, the laughter he left behind, the street lights that now eliminate the road in his name where he was murdered, and most importantly, in the four children who love him and will carry part of him with them for the rest of their lives. Jared will be who they tell their children and grandchildren about, not Mario. Mario's name will soon fade into obscurity and his existence will leave little lasting significance. Jared's name, life, legacy, and the lives he touched will continue to matter long after Mario is forgotten. I was raised by good parents who instilled in me a few important lessons. They taught me the difference between right and wrong. That character matters. That you stand up for what is right even when it is difficult. And that you do not simply surrender because someone tries to intimidate or break you. Those lessons are part of who I am and they are lessons I will pass to my children. So, as I'm sure Mario has already realized by now, I will not back down. I will not allow him or anyone else responsible for Jared's murder to determine what the rest of our lives will look like. They have already taken enough from us. They do not get our future too. They do not get to destroy the family Jared loved and they do not get to erase the love, happiness, and strength that existed before that terrible day. They waged war on our family, but I will finish it. Not with violence, not with revenge, but by refusing to let them win. With the help of God I will continue to stand, to raise our children with strength and good morals, and to teach them that evil does not get the final word. I will teach them that grief does not mean defeat or weakness, but rather it's a sign of how deep we loved and were loved. And it is to be treasured. I will teach them that being wounded does not mean being broken. And that we can choose to keep going and let light back in. There is still so much good to experience in this life. Mario Fernandez mistook the ability to end a life for the ability to diminish its value. He did not take Jared's legacy. He did not take Jared's love for his children or their love for him. And he most importantly did not take our future. Jared is still with us. And as long as we are here, he will never be forgotten. [00:30:27] Speaker 2: Thank you. [00:30:28] Speaker 1: The state has a victim impact statement from one of the minor children of Jared Bridigan, initials AB. Our attorney ad litem, Miss Corrine Bowden, is present via Zoom and has provided the state with this letter. They requested that Mrs. Bridigan read it into the record. [00:30:48] Speaker 7: My name is Abigail and I am 14 years old. My dad was murdered by Mario Saldana. There are no words that can effectively describe to you how hard it has been to live with the loss of my father. But I am going to do my best. My dad was one of the nicest, funniest, compassionate, and most loving people that I knew. One thing I will always remember about my dad was the way he made me feel. He was important to me because he was one of the biggest role models in my life. He was always there for me and always made me feel loved. Since my dad was murdered, my life has never been the same. I've had to experience things that no 14-year-old should have to experience. I've had to learn to live without my dad, knowing that I will never be able to call him, hug him, hear his voice, or spend time with him again. I think about all the things he will miss. He can't be there for my graduation, birthdays, or my own wedding. I will not have him there to help me, comfort me, or simply be my dad. The hardest part for me is knowing that I can never talk to him again. I'll never be able to tell him everything that has happened in my life. I will grow older, but I will never stop being his daughter. When my dad was murdered, I lost more than the person who is my father. I lost the future I thought I'd have with him. I lost the opportunity to ever talk to him again or have him see how I'm doing in sports or in school. He can never walk me down the aisle at my wedding. I will never have him in my life again. He won't ever see me grown up or all that I will accomplish in life. The consequences of losing him will affect me for the rest of my life. My whole life changed. It was really hard to move away from Jacksonville and to not be with my stepmom or my sisters. It's hard not to be there for them and see them growing up and all the things they've accomplished. I finally made a place for myself in Washington and now I am moving again. It is so hard to move to a whole new state with no friends and to be in a new school. I love my life here in Washington and I don't want to have to move and start all over again. I hope when the court considers the appropriate sentence it will consider not only the crime committed but also the life that was taken and the lives that have been very changed because of it. My dad deserved to live. He deserved to see me grow up. He deserved to be here. I miss him every day and I will love him for the rest of my life. There truly is no punishment fit for this crime but as I did my best here today I know the court will do its best in announcing the sentence. Thank you for allowing me to share what my dad's life had meant to me and what his death has taken from me. [00:34:15] Speaker ?: Thank you. Thank you. Thank you. Thank you. Thank you. [00:34:19] Speaker 1: Although not speaking, Jared's mother Joanne Brightigan is present by Zoom with his father. His brother Justin Brightigan is present in the gallery. I have a statement from his brother Adam Brightigan that he asked me to read into the record. [00:34:48] Speaker 2: Good afternoon to you all and say the name again. [00:34:51] Speaker 1: Adam Brightigan. Okay. Brother of Jared Brightigan. [00:34:54] Speaker ?: Thank you. [00:35:00] Speaker 1: Your Honor, with the court's permission, I would like to speak today, not merely as a victim's family member, but as an older brother. And though these words are offered to this honorable court, I have written them as a letter to my little brother, Jared. There are things a brother should never have to say. There are words that should never have to be written. And there are sorrows so vast that the human language, for all its beauty, cannot fully express. And the letter begins. To my brother Jared, I have searched for words worthy of you. I have searched for them in the quiet hours of the night when the world is asleep and sorrow seems to awaken. I have searched for them from friends, from family, and in scripture. In scripture, we can gain wisdom of those who have suffered before us. But how does a man describe the absence of someone who was supposed to be there for the rest of his life? How does he explain the sound of a voice that he will never hear again? The laughter that has fallen silent? The familiar face that now lives only in photographs, memories, and dreams? How does a brother offer words before a court of law and explain that a part of his childhood, his history, his family, and his very understanding of the world was buried alongside his little brother? There are no words. And yet today, I will try to find them. I have spent my life knowing you were somewhere in this world, that somewhere my little brother was living. Sending me funny reels that really weren't that funny. Telling my kids the corniest dad jokes. Loving eggnog and blasting Christmas music. Beatboxing and whistling. And now the world continues to turn as though nothing has happened. The sun rises. The seasons change. Children grow up. Families gather around dinner tables. People make plans for tomorrow. Blissfully unaware of the extraordinary blessing hidden inside that ordinary world. Tomorrow. For you, Jared, there would be no tomorrow. And for those of us who loved you, tomorrow will never again mean quite the same thing. There is a particular cruelty in the death of someone we love. But there is something almost beyond human comprehension in knowing that the life was not surrendered to illness, to age, or to the natural passage of time. It was taken. It was taken. Deliberately. Violently. And with it were taken a thousand futures that belonged not only to you, but to everyone whose life was woven into yours. You were a son before you were anything else. And I wonder whether those who set these terrible events in motion have ever truly considered what it means for a mother and a father to bury their child. There is an ancient order to life, a sacred understanding written somewhere deep within the human soul that parents are meant to grow old watching their children live. A mother should never have to stand beside the grave of the child whose first heartbeat she once carried beneath her own. A father should never have to look upon the resting place of the little boy he once held in his arms, knowing that all his strength, all his wisdom, all his years of protecting and providing could not save him. What language could possibly measure that suffering? What number could be assigned to the nights when a mother awakens and remembers all over again that her son is gone? What earthly scale could weigh the sorrow of a father who must live the remainder of his days with an empty place in his family? There is no such measure, there never will be. And then, Jared, there are your children. You loved your children more than anything. If there is one thought that has the power to bring me to my knees, it is the knowledge of what they have lost. Because a child does not understand death as an adult does. A child understands the empty chair, the unanswered question, the familiar footsteps that never come down the hallway, the birthday when daddy is missing, the Christmas morning when the joy of the season is pierced by the unbearable knowledge that someone should be there is not and never will be. A child understands reaching for a hand that is no longer there to hold. And as the years pass, their grief will not simply disappear. It will only grow and change with them. There will be school days, graduations, first loves, weddings, triumphs, heartbreaks, and moments of extraordinary beauty when they look into a crowd or toward an empty seat and wish for one person above all others. Their father. And you won't be there. They will have questions only you could have answered. They will long for advice only you could have given. They will search their memories for the sound of your voice, the warmth of your embrace, the comfort of knowing no matter how uncertain the world became, their father was there. And the tragedy is not merely that you died, it is that they must now live an entire lifetime with the consequences of your death. They have been sentenced to a grief they did nothing to deserve. An innocent childhood should be a sanctuary filled with scraped knees, bedtime stories, laughter in the backseat of a car, and the comforting certainty that the grown-ups who love you will be there when you wake. Instead, this terrible act introduced into their young lives, the knowledge that the world can be cruel, that safety can be shattered, and that even the most precious people can be stolen away. How do we restore that innocence? How do we quiet the nightmares? How do we explain the anxiety, the fear, the trauma, the sleepless nights, the sadness that arrives without warning? How do we place a value upon the peace of mind that was taken from a child? We cannot. And this suffering does not end at the walls of your home. It travels through generations. Through grandparents, brothers, sisters, aunts, uncles, nieces, nephews, and cousins. Through every family gathering where someone instinctively looks for you. Through every photograph in which you are missing. Through every story that begins with your name and ends with a silence too painful to fill. Our family will gather, as families do, and we will smile. We will embrace. We will celebrate marriages and welcome babies and mark the passing years. But beneath those occasions will remain an invisible sorrow, an empty place at the table, a name spoken more softly. Remember when Jared will become a common phrase. A familiar ache that returns when least expected. People sometimes speak of grief as though it were a journey with a destination. As though at any given time, or with given enough time, we will arrive at some distant shore where the pain has finally ended. But grief is not a road we finish traveling. It is a country in which we learn to live. It follows us into our work, our marriages, our parenting, our friendships, and our sleep. It changes us forever. How we look at strangers. How we look at strangers. How we understand safety. How we trust the world. There are nights when sleep offers no refuge because the mind returns to the unthinkable. There are mornings when waking brings the awful realization that what we wished had been a nightmare is, in fact, our life. There is an anxiety that settles into the body, a weariness that cannot be cured by rest. And there is the terrible burden of continuing to live normally in a world that has become anything but normal. The world asks us to move forward. And so we do. But there is a difference between moving forward and being made whole. We will move forward, Jared. We will never be made whole in the way we once were. And perhaps one of the most heartbreaking truths of all is that your death was not the beginning of your suffering. Before your life was stolen, you had already endured seasons of anguish that no human being should have to bear. You knew what it meant to have your peace disturbed, your name tarnished, unnecessary legal battles, your spirit burdened, and your heart broken. You knew what it meant to struggle through the ruins of a life that had not unfolded as you once imagined. But you did something remarkable. You began again. You refused to let the pain of your past become the final chapter of your story. After your divorce, you worked to rebuild your life. You sought to become better, to love more deeply, to strengthen your faith, and to create a home filled with the happiness and peace you so dearly wanted. You are not a perfect man. None of us is. But you are a man who believed in redemption. A man who believed that the broken pieces of a life could, through faith and love, be gathered and made beautiful again. And perhaps that is what makes this loss so profoundly cruel. You had already fought so hard to find your way into the light. You had already endured the storms. You had already begun to build something good on the other side of sorrow. And then, when you should have been permitted to live, to grow older, to raise your children, and to enjoy the fruits of that hard-won peace, your life was stolen. There are people whose actions helped create suffering that surrounded your life, and the full moral weight of those actions cannot be washed away by silence, distance, or the passage of time. A life can be wounded long before it's ended, a man's peace can be dismantled piece by piece, his heart can be burdened, his faith can be tested, and a spirit can be made to carry suffering that others may see. When violence finally extinguishes that life, the suffering that preceded it does not cease to matter. I believe there are consciences beyond those in this courtroom that must reckon with the part they played in your suffering. The court will determine legal responsibility according to the law, but the moral consequences of cruelty, betrayal, and the destruction of another human being reach far beyond the boundaries of any courtroom. Some wounds are inflicted by hands, others by words, choices, deception, and silence. And those consequences can echo for generations. Jared, you always strived to follow the example of Jesus Christ. That does not mean you were better than anyone. It simply means you accepted him and tried to follow his teachings. I have often thought of the shortest verse in the Holy Bible. Two words, John 11:35. Jesus wept. The Son of God who knew the promise of resurrection, who understood eternity more perfectly than any mortal soul, stood before the sorrow of death and wept. What a beautiful and sacred truth. Even with the knowledge that death would not have the final victory, he wept. He did not dismiss the grief of those who mourned. He did not command their tears to cease. He wept with them. And so I believe our tears are not evidence of our weakness. They are evidence of great love. Wept. Apostle Paul wrote in Romans 12:15. Rejoice with them that rejoice and weep with them that weep. Today I ask this court to understand we are not merely mourning one terrible moment. We are mourning every moment that should have followed it. Every day Jared was entitled to live. Every embrace his children were entitled to receive. Every memory our family was entitled to make. Every quiet evening he should have spent beside those he loved. Every birthday, every Christmas, every Father's Day, and all the unremarkable beautiful moments that together make a human life. We have lost them all. And no sentence, no verdict, no passage of years can return them. I cannot count the tears our family has shed. I suffered through the years and shed so many tears are lyrics from the song So Many Tears by Tupac and it is exactly how I feel. I cannot count the nights of lost sleep, the prayers offered by those who loved you, the fears that accompany the people you left behind, or the years your children must live without their father. The pain cannot be quantified because it has no visible end. There is no ledger large enough to record it and no language sufficient to contain it. No earthly measure capable of expressing the full weight of a life stolen and a family forever changed. And yet, despite all this, I do not want the final testimony of your life to be the manner of your death. I do not want the darkest act committed against you to become the thing the world remembers about you. You were more than a victim, a son, a father, a husband, a brother, a man of faith, a man who had known heartbreak and still believed in love. A man who was rebuilding his life with the conviction that tomorrow could be better than yesterday. You deserved that tomorrow. You deserved the privilege of growing old. You deserved to watch your children become the people they were created to be. You deserved gray hair, quiet evenings, family reunions, grandchildren, and all the gentle rewards that come from a life faithfully lived. And I deserved to grow old with my little brother. I deserved the familiar comfort of knowing that how much time had passed, there would always be someone in this world who remembered the same childhood, the same family story, the same beginnings. Someone who knew me not merely as the man I had become, but as the boy I once was. That is one of the peculiar heartbreaks of losing a sibling. When a brother dies, a witness to your own life disappears. A keeper of your earliest memories, a friend from the beginning, and some part of your own history goes silent with him. Jared, I would give anything to hear your voice again, not for some grand conversation, not to deliver a perfect farewell, just to hear you say, "Yo." To share something so ordinary that before all of this, neither of us would have thought to remember it. How little we understand the value of any ordinary moment until it is no longer ours to have. I know that faith does not erase the grave. It does not spare us the empty chair or the long nights. It does not make a child stop longing for a father. But faith gives us a promise that sorrow, however deep, is not the end of the story. In Revelation 21:4, we are promised that God shall wipe away all tears from the eyes. There shall be no more death, neither sorrow nor crying, and neither shall there be any more pain. There shall be no more pain in the eyes of the Lord. There shall be no more pain in the eyes of the Lord. There shall be no more pain in the eyes of the Lord. There shall be no more pain in the eyes of the Lord. There shall be no more pain in the eyes of the Lord. There shall be no more pain in the eyes of the Lord. There shall be no more pain in the eyes of the Lord. There shall be no more pain in the eyes of the Lord. There shall be no more pain in the eyes of the Lord. There shall be no more pain in the eyes of the Lord. There shall be no more pain in the eyes of the Lord. There shall be no more pain in the eyes of the Lord. There shall be no more pain in the eyes of the Lord. There shall be no more pain in the eyes of the Lord. There shall be no more pain in the eyes of the Lord. There shall be no more pain in the eyes of the Lord. There shall be no more pain in the eyes of the Lord. [00:51:43] Speaker ?: There shall be no more pain in the eyes of the Lord. [00:51:44] Speaker 1: There shall be no more pain in the eyes of the Lord. There shall be no more pain in the eyes of the Lord. There shall be no more pain in the eyes of the Lord. There shall be no more pain in the eyes of the Lord. There shall be no more pain in the eyes of the Lord. There shall be no more pain in the eyes of the Lord. There shall be no more pain in the eyes of the Lord. There shall be no more pain in the eyes of the Lord. There shall be no more pain in the eyes of the Lord. There shall be no more pain in the eyes of the Lord. There shall be no more pain in the eyes of the Lord. There shall be no more pain in the eyes of the Lord. There shall be no more pain in the eyes of the Lord. There shall be no more pain in the eyes of the Lord. There shall be no more pain in the eyes of the Lord. We will refuse to allow the cruelty of your death to erase the goodness of your life. And when the world grows quiet and the grief returns, as it surely will, we will remember that love does not end simply because a heartbeat has stopped. Your life was taken, Jared, but the love you shared with your family cannot be murdered. Your Honor, I share before this court as a brother who has lost something he can never recover. I do not ask this court to measure our pain because no such measure exists. I ask only the court recognize its enormity. And that behind the legal proceedings, the evidence, and the solemn duties of justice, there is a family that must carry this loss for the remainder of our lives. Relatives whose lives have been divided into two irreconcilable chapters. Before Jared was killed and after. Jared, I wish I were speaking to you somewhere else. Across the dinner table or on the telephone, at a family gathering surrounded by the voices of those who love us. Anywhere but here, under any circumstances but these. I wish this letter was unnecessary. I wish your children could run into your arms tonight. I wish our parents could hear your laughter. I wish I could have my little brother back. But wishing cannot undo what has been done. And so I leave you with the words I hope you always knew, but which I would give anything to tell you once more. You were loved. You are loved. You will be loved for as long as any of us draws breath. And when our days upon this earth are finished, I pray that the promise of our Savior will be fulfilled. And the separation which now seems so unbearably long will prove, in the light of eternity, to have been only a little while. Until then, my brother, we will remember, we will grieve, we will endure, and we will love you beyond the reach of death. Until we meet again, Jared, your brother, Adam Brightigan. [00:53:58] Speaker 2: Thank you. Thank you. [00:54:00] Speaker ?: Your Honor, all the statements have been filed with the clerk. Okay. Thank you very much. Does that conclude the state's presentation? Yes, Your Honor. [00:54:05] Speaker 1: Okay. [00:54:06] Speaker 2: And let me ask the defense how you wish to proceed. [00:54:09] Speaker 8: Your Honor, at this time, we would only briefly address the door of the count, too. Okay. [00:54:25] Speaker 2: Okay. Give me, you mean just argument? Yes. Okay. Does your client want to make any statements, allocation? No. Okay. [00:54:39] Speaker ?: All right. [00:54:44] Speaker 2: Let me hear first from the state of Florida. [00:54:50] Speaker 1: Your Honor, I want to thank the family of Jared Brightigan for their words today. There's nothing that the state can say that would make a record for this court the way they have who Jared Brightigan was and what his loss has meant to this family. As the court is aware, this trial has received much public attention from the public and the media, and it's been a unique opportunity for our citizens to see a criminal homicide trial gavel to gavel. And what I think is not often realized by those outside of the system is that trial is about the defendant, not the victim. And it is designed to do so for good reason. In our justice system, the defendant is afforded the highest protection, priority, and deference. And that is how it's designed to work. That is how it should work. And our system, though it is not perfect, is the best in the world. It is very hard on the innocent families who have to sit and navigate through that system. At trial, they don't get to voice, they don't get to cross-examine, they don't get to correct what they believe to be inaccuracies in the record, or to speak what ills are said of their loved ones. Victims' voices are not heard at trial, their faces are not seen other than in crime scene photos and autopsy photos, and their families see them displayed either as how they met their often violent ends, or naked, cold, lifeless, and vulnerable on a slab. And they've come week after week, month after month, year after year to relive that loss, and are powerless to do anything but sit and listen as we all do our jobs in this courtroom. Trials for the defendant, and this defendant, Mario Fernandez, took Jared Brightigan from this earth in the most heinous way, knowing his young daughter Bexley would witness her father's death, in a cold and calculated way by planning it for months with absolutely no sort of justification, in the most selfish way for his own benefit, and in the most cowardly way by hiring somebody else to kill Jared. And a jury has swiftly and decisively found him guilty of his crimes during his trial. And sentencing today, even though there was only one lawful sentence, just to count one, it was important for this family to come in and to make a record about Jared Brightigan, and sentencing today is about the victim. It's about Jared's life and how he lived it, not about the person who took it or how he met his end. And it is important because their words about him are going to be transcribed and filed in the court record forever. So now Jared's face is being played in his courtroom, not as it was at trial in an autopsy photo. And his voice has come out through the words of his family. And I'm happy that today, those that watch the trial can also have the opportunity to watch the sentencing. Because of all the coverage this case has gotten, nothing is more deserving of the public's attention than the words of the family who lost their loved one. And I can't make an argument more beautiful or impactful or important than what they've already said to this court. So I'll be very brief. I would ask the court to impose the highest sentences possible for Jared, his four children, his siblings that are present, his parents that are present by Zoom, his wife, his in-laws, his families, and his friends. And justice is imperfect. What was stolen from them, we all know it can't be replaced. And the scales of justice cannot be righted by any actions we all do in this court. No verdict can fix what was broken. And no sentence can heal what has been injured. The limited justice this court can give will not right this wrong. And the best the court can do is to sentence this defendant to the maximum, which will be life in prison as to count one with no possibility of parole, and 30 years in prison as to count two. [00:59:03] Speaker 2: Thank you. May I hear from the defense. [00:59:09] Speaker 8: Your Honor, we supplied to the court with a number of letters on Mr. Fernandez's behalf. Did you get those letters? [00:59:21] Speaker 2: Were they entered? [00:59:23] Speaker 8: They were. Your judicial assistant said that she had made an inventory of all of them, I assume. Do you want to enter them? [00:59:32] Speaker 2: I would like to. [00:59:33] Speaker 8: Okay. [00:59:34] Speaker 2: So that they're part of the record? Yes. Okay. [00:59:39] Speaker 8: With that, your Honor, there is no argument as to count one. The jury has spoken their verdict and the sentence is mandatory by the court. As to count two, the guidelines are 13.5 months in Florida State Prison is the lowest permissible sentence. Even if you had scored it as the primary offense in scores in 48 months, we would ask that you give him a between 13.1 and 48 month guideline sentence. And with that, we are ready to recess. [01:00:15] Speaker 2: All right. Thank you. Court will be in recess. And so I do appreciate how difficult it may be to listen to the worst moments that you could possibly imagine over and over. And, uh, go to a courtroom of law without the ability to speak. However, Florida, um, like other states has given the opportunity when appropriate for the court to consider and reading that the right, um, that was exercised here today, um, has been in full effect. And I wanted to say thank you for sharing, um, your memories. Thank you for sharing your thoughts. Um, and thank you for sharing and shedding light on something that is, was presented in this courtroom that, unfortunately, um, ended Mr. Bridegan's life. So for that, I say thank you. And I also say thank you to his parents for being here the way that you could. And so, um, it is the sentence of this court. While it cannot be a factor, um, in a sentencing using the law of 921, which is the sentencing statutes. And I'll read it. It's 921. It says, "Sentencing is neutral with respect to race, gender, social, and economic status. That the primary purpose of sentencing is to punish the offender." And so, in this case, um, murder in the first degree is, um, one of the highest crimes that another human being can exact on another. And a jury has spoken, Mr. Fernandez, and this court will follow through. Um, the jury having found you guilty of murder in the first degree and also solicitation to commit a capital felony, this court adjudicates you guilty of both of those crimes. The court will give you credit for the 1,331 days that you've already served. But it is the sentence of this court that, as to count one, that you serve the remainder of your natural life in the Florida Department of Corrections with all that credit. And as to count two, um, that you serve the maximum sentence, which is 30 years in the Florida Department of Corrections with all that credit. The court must impose, and it will, the court costs an amount of $518. And also, um, actually I believe that includes the cost of prosecution fee. Um, I will appoint the off, well, the Office of the Public Defender unless they have a conflict. I'll let them work through that. Mr. Dreiser, I would ask that your firm prepare whatever paperwork so that those, um, individuals can take over representation. Understood. All right. That is the sentence of this court. Thank you all very much. Thank you. [01:03:11] Speaker ?: Thank you. Thank you. Thank you. Thank you. Thank you. Thank you. Thank you. Thank you. Thank you. Thank you. Thank you. Thank you. Thank you. Thank you. Thank you. Thank you. Thank you. Thank you. Thank you. Thank you. Thank you. Thank you. Thank you. Thank you. Thank you. Thank you. Thank you. [01:03:40] Speaker 2: Thank you. [01:03:53] Speaker ?: Thank you.