BY DON LEACH STAFF PHOTOGRAPHER I was...

BY DON LEACH

STAFF PHOTOGRAPHER

I was looking at photo negatives on our Daily Pilot light table

when I heard a call come over the scanner about a car going into a

structure. I figured I should go check it out since it was right down

the street.

It could be an interesting shot, I thought.

It turned out to be much more than that, an event that left me

shaken for all I’d seen and heard.

Our editors were at a meeting so I didn’t tell anyone I was

leaving -- I just walked out the door with my gear. It was late in

the day, the sinking sun cast shadows over the neighborhood. I

remember thinking a car must have gone through a house. Right then,

another call came over the radio saying the car had gone into the

side of a school and a person was still trapped, with people trying

to lift the car. My pulse quickened as I parked, ran up to the scene

and walked past bystanders gathered on the curb.

Already paramedics were frantically working on a small boy who lay

on a backboard as police talked to someone in a gold, older-model

Cadillac.

Someone crashed through the school fence, I thought, hitting some

kids. As I surveyed the scene, police were leaning into the window of

the car, speaking to the driver who still sat in the drivers’ seat.

People stood behind police tape and sat on the curb crying as

teachers hugged and parents ran into the school screaming for

information.

The chaos of screams, cries and sirens just went on and on as

paramedics frantically tried to save the life of Brandon Wiener.

Parents were running into the school letting nothing and no one get

in their way. Sometimes a scream would let out from behind the wall,

and then a scream from behind me directed at the driver. Angry

residents were yelling at Abrams as he sat in the car, screaming at

police to let him go so they could deal with him personally.

When they took him away in cuffs people yelled “murderer” several

times, and a police officer stood nearby to make sure no one made a

run at him as they led him to a waiting car. I kept looking at my

cameras, having nowhere to hide as I stood there among residents,

paramedics, teachers and parents moving back and forth.

An unusual mix of children’s toys and emergency medical equipment

littered the schoolyard. A crew of firemen from Costa Mesa knelt down

next to the body of Sierra Soto in the middle of the yard. They

seemed to be guarding her body and soul to make sure she was not

disturbed in any way in the midst of the ugly scene.

There was nothing left to do. They had done all they could do. I

figured the same and walked back to my car, staring at the ground,

the screams still fresh in mind.

When I returned to the newsroom, I looked at the film, refreshing

my memory of the tragic event. I didn’t care what picture was used,

shock and sadness was all that I felt as reporters and editors came

by to look at the film to learn what had happened.