David lived like there was no tomorrow. There were not enough hours in the day for him. As a child he was happy to think one day he would work for his dad’s car dealership and used make his own car lots. From poster board and cut up boxes he would plan and paint entire dealerships complete with garages, offices, lobbies and even bathrooms. He would use his Hot Wheels to arrange and rearrange many different parking lots strategies. David also added the idea that his grandma should have a kitchen on site since he loved her cooking.
David was an artist. Many of the pages selected in the Art yearbook were his drawings. He had won many art contests that were displayed in malls and Denver shops. He was pleased with the recognition of his art and wanted to go to art school in Texas.
He was a snowboarder, enjoyed vacationing, parasailing, fishing and shopping too. He loved it when girls followed him at the mall to get his phone number. His call waiting could not accommodate all the callers. David also enjoyed going to Barbizon classes and wanted to be an Eileen Ford model.
On an autumn evening in ’89 David, having a brand new driver’s license, drove to a housewarming party to visit a girlfriend. While there a skinhead gang crashed the party and tried to attack a friend of David’s. In the ensuing David ended up in intensive care suffering from not only damaged tendons in his hand/wrist and loss of hearing, but a concussion resulting in some brain damage as well.
None of the witness knew the name of the David’s attacker but it somehow got out the David and his mother planned to file felony charges as soon as the attacker was identified. This vile attacker that David had so regrettably crossed paths with proceeded to attempt to hunt David down. He brandished a gun at David at his high school and actually took a shot at him during a Red Rocks concert and in neither case was apprehended. For his protection, David moved to live with his father in a different city and county. The still unidentified assailant even had the persistence to attempt to find David at his mother’s home!
In November 1997, David’s mother, Norma, was watching TV coverage of the murder of a Denver policeman. Norma recognized Matthaeus Jaehnig as the man who had come to her home looking for David. She called the people who helped David the night he was first attacked and Norma said they unanimously confirmed the identification.
In June of 1994 David returned home from Gate-12, a Denver nightclub, and was apparently followed. The following morning David’s roommate found him dead, by gunshot, in his own bed.
When he was still a young boy, Norma remembers a vacation where David became surrounded by swallowtail butterflies. They landed on his arms and body, tickled his face and she notes “I have pictures of David with the butterflies”.
When David was buried the attendees commented “…why are there so many butterflies…”. Norma picked up a bouquet and a yellow swallowtail butterfly flew out and landed on her cheek. Relishing the butterfly kisses Norma knew that David’s soul was safe and happy.
All murders leave families to suffer and re-suffer all the events and questions; unsolved murders even more so. David’s family too still reels from the loss. Grandparents pass, emotions hew rifts, depression slowly poisons, and sometimes the fog never clears.
Norma says “It has taken me a long time to come forward about David’s death. Because my health is not good, it’s time to resolve family wounds; let the law take it from here. I never in my entire life imagined this would happen to us. My whole heart and soul goes out to parents whose children are dying in Denver.”
The Denver Coroner ruled this was a suicide. David’s mother believes it is a homicide.