Grieving family speaks out

Sometimes Ken Isakson will catch a quick glimpse of a pretty brunette at a movie or restaurant and, for just a moment, it looks like his daughter Kehndra.

It isn't, of course.

Kehndra was shot to death three years ago by Seruka Tiliaia, a young man who never knew her but who flew into a rage at a party and began wildly blasting a gun.

Only 19 years old at the time, Kehndra left behind her own daughter, Angel, now 4, and a family that still struggles with loss and sorrow but is trying to help other young people avoid violence.

"I could have just crawled into a hole and never gotten out," said Cindy Isakson, Kehndra's mother. "If It hadn't been for Angel, I would never have gotten up again."

Their lively young granddaughter, who will demonstrate her tap-dancing skills at a moment's notice, buoys the couple when times get tough. "My crying time is driving home from work, but I come in the door and I get an instant smile when that little girl comes around," Ken Isakson said.

Angel's presence also has cheered their other children, Jeremy, 24, and Lindsay, 18. The Isaksons, who are raising Angel, also have a good relationship with Angel's father, Louis Joseph Valdez.

Among other things, the Isaksons credit their Christian faith for pulling them back from despair as well as the comfort of other family members, their pastor, Daryl Evans, many friends and a support group called Compassionate Friends.

Also therapeutic are the presentations they've begun giving at schools, juvenile detention halls and adolescent drug treatment centers. Their "Stop the Violence" program starts with a slide show of Kehndra's life that ends with the bang of a loud gunshot. Then they speak and finish with an open discussion.

A key participant is Rebecca Ibarra, whose son is in prison. She tells of the shame and suffering endured by the families of violent criminals.

The adults talk about how senseless violence can destroy lives, how heroic it is to report someone who has a gun.

"I think when we do the presentation it really helps them and it helps us," Cindy Isakson said. "Sometimes we've had kids in tears, and we hope their eyes have been opened. Hopefully, they change their lives."

Especially in the lockdown centers, the Isaksons advise youngsters to make use of the counseling and help that they're getting.

"If they don't change their ways," Cindy Isakson said, "they will be where Tiliaia is — or where Kehndra is."

After the shock of hearing Kehndra was murdered, the Isaksons' grief was compounded by the fact that Tiliaia insisted on a jury trial, which meant seemingly endless delays and postponements, listening to grisly details of Kehndra's last minutes and, despite a jury verdict of guilty, a sense of hollow victory.