Glenwood Springs – It was hard to find the monster in Eric Stoneman. He is 14 with a baby face unscathed by whiskers. Uncombed black hair sprang from his head in cowlicks, like a kid just out of bed.
Stoneman had been up for a while. Long enough to have his hands cuffed and his feet shackled. Long enough to come from jail to the Garfield County courthouse. Long enough to discover that his childhood had officially ended.
At a hearing Wednesday, prosecutors charged Stoneman as an adult for allegedly murdering 9-year-old Taylor DeMarco. As the lawyers spoke, Stoneman licked and bit his lips. He glanced constantly over his shoulder at his parents. There was a chance he would be separated from his family for the rest of his life.
Across the aisle, behind the prosecutors, DeMarco’s parents faced devastation, not uncertainty. They knew they would never see their son again.
Figuring out why Taylor DeMarco died wasn’t going to change that. But one child’s choice to shoot another child for what investigators say was rejected friendship screamed for an explanation.
The criminal justice system works on what and how. Why usually gets lost.
Prosecutors presented nine counts against Stoneman, including first-degree murder. In childish print, Stoneman signed a restraining order, prohibiting him from bothering the state’s star witness, Stoneman’s 13-year-old friend.
The order was a formality. Jailed without bail, Stoneman is totally restrained.
A cold-blooded execution is what the state’s star witness initially described. He first told investigators after the July 20 shooting that Stoneman pointed a pistol at DeMarco’s head as the 9-year-old knelt in the witness’ living room, pleading not to be shot.
The star witness – the only witness to the shooting – recanted six days later. He was mad at one friend for killing another and made the story up, he told a detective. It was one of several inconsistencies, court records show.
Still, 9th Judicial District Attorney Colleen Truden chose a controversial prosecutorial tool. She “direct filed” against Stoneman as an adult. By state law, his lawyers were not entitled to argue to a judge that Stoneman lacks the intelligence or maturity of a grown-up.
That’s a big deal. If this crime had happened before May 13 – the day Stoneman turned 14 – the law would have required a juvenile trial for Stoneman. Two months was the difference between a maximum of seven years in juvenile detention and life in a penitentiary.
“We’re talking about first-degree murder with deliberate intent,” Truden said.
The scared kid licking and chewing on his lips sure didn’t look the part. But it was just as hard to fathom his actions.
Court records suggest something more pathetic than disgusting. Three boys picked on each other. The outcast settled violently with his tormentor. Or maybe Stoneman was just showing off to get back into his friends’ good graces.
The witness’ account goes like this: Stoneman and DeMarco visited his house and argued. Stoneman went home. DeMarco called Stoneman to taunt him. The witness called Stoneman’s house and left a message saying he, DeMarco and Stoneman shouldn’t be friends any more. Then, the witness called back and Stoneman answered. The witness asked Stoneman to come back so they could “work things out and still be friends.”
Stoneman came back. But he came with his mom’s .22-caliber semiautomatic pistol.
Investigators say Stoneman admitted to accidentally shooting DeMarco. Even the star witness says Stoneman put the gun in his own mouth and to his own head. He told the other boys not to worry because the safety was on. He gave the gun to DeMarco, then took it back and pointed it at DeMarco.
Children’s ridiculously easy access to guns is an issue here. What Stoneman can’t escape is his willingness to fire.
Whether he meant to kill anyone, as a child shuffled out of court in chains, a lesson lingered:
Squeeze a trigger for a split second, change your life forever.
Jim Spencer’s column appears Monday, Wednesday and Friday. He can be reached at 303-820-1771 or jspencer@denverpost.com.
