A Mother’s Victim Impact Statement

Amparo Atencio

Today was the last time I plan to set foot in the Anderson County Courthouse, in Clinton, Tennessee. It was the culmination of the criminal justice phase for the murder of my son, Tony James Phillips, forever 22. This is the impact statement I delivered to a crowded courtroom, full of defendants, the accused, the suspected, the admitted guilty, in addition to family members, prosecutors, defense attorneys, and the judge.

Tony was immature. But like most young people, he believed he had time on his side to mature and get it right and fulfill his dreams. I believed it too. I was convinced that we would one day come full circle, from the close relationship we shared when he was a child, and then an adolescent, and even as a teenager before he started hiding aspects of his life from me. I believed, in time, he would once again be open and share more aspects of his life with me. I believed that I would grow old, knowing that he had matured into a productive citizen and member of his community. I believed that I would one day hold his children, and that he would outlive me. I believed these things in a time when I was more naïve about evil.

So now, it is with bittersweet love that I see many of Tony’s friends living the lives they deserve to live and that he deserved to live as well. I see:

• Jimmye. Tony and Jimmye knew each other from pre-school to adulthood. My favorite memory of them is as little-bitties in gymnastics classes together. Jimmye married her high school sweetheart, and they lived in the same apartment complex that Tony lived in until the end. Jimmye and her husband struggled to form their family and after several heartbreaking losses, were finally able to celebrate the births of their twins.
• Gilbert. Tony was in the marching band, and Gilbert was on the football team, so they spent many Friday nights together in high school. In middle school, I would drop Tony off at school, and I later learned that he would promptly walk off campus for a hot breakfast at Gilbert’s house after rejecting the breakfast I had prepared in favor of the social atmosphere at Gilbert’s house. Gilbert’s mother called Tony her “flaco” (the skinny one) and tried to fatten him up with her home cooking. Both Gilbert and Tony decided college wasn’t for them, and Gilbert when on to welding school, landed a great job, and married his high school sweetheart. He reinvented himself to finish his degree and become a welding teacher at a local high school. He also celebrated the birth of his first child this past year.
• Michelle. Michelle was Tony’s first love, and although he cared for her deeply they could not make it because of his ADHD and lack of maturity. Michelle is a strong, independent young woman, who knew what she wanted for her life. With ambition and determination, she completed graduate school in New York and defended her Master of Fine Arts in a photography exhibit she called “I Could Go With You.” That exhibit illustrated her emotions on the night of August 8, 2011, as she learned of her first love’s fate. She wrote about her exhibit,

“The photographs obscure the possibilities of the future with a permanent state of loss in the past.”

While I rejoice for these and all of Tony’s other friends as life goes on for them, my heart will forever be broken that I cannot see this same life progression for my own son. Instead, all I have is memories of the past and thoughts about what his final days and moments on Earth must have been like.

You not only robbed Tony of his life, but me of my future. I have had to find new purpose, new hope, and new reasons to keep putting one foot in front of the other in a world where I no longer have to live a long life, don’t have to take care of my good health, don’t even have to be fiscally responsible so that I can be there for Tony when he needs me. I don’t have to do any of those things for him because he no longer needs me. I can no longer answer questions for him; I can no longer guide him; I can no longer be a positive influence to him; I can no longer be a role model for him. Instead, our roles are now reversed. He has knowledge that I don’t possess. His spirit now guides me to help me keep going in a world without him.

Of the three individuals involved in my son’s murder, you are the only one who has ever extended an apology, so I thank you for writing the letter you had delivered to me in October 2015, regardless of its sincerity. Oh, that apologies could turn back the hands of time. But they cannot, and your apology does little to ease my pain. I would like to respond to some of the points of your letter.

• You say you see how much I support my son every time I am in court. I say to you: yes, I am in court as often as I can be, and yes, what you see when we connect eye to eye is indeed anger and grief. That is because no amount of justice and no amount of regret will ever bring my son back.
• You say that you and your brothers have truly broken your mother’s heart with your ignorance. I say to you that as long as you shall live, your mother at least still has opportunities for her broken heart to mend. I have no such opportunities.
• You say that it was truly a mistake; that my son’s life was not taken on purpose. I say to you that mistakes are accidents caused by carelessness, or insufficient knowledge. It was no accident that you entered my son’s apartment with a loaded gun with the intent to rob, and you had sufficient knowledge to understand that loaded guns are deadly weapons. I do not consider your actions of August 8, 2011 a mistake.
• You say you may not be home to attend your mother’s funeral and that’s the consequence for living careless. I say to you that as long as you shall live, your mother at least has opportunities to see you whether or not you are incarcerated and at least has opportunities to share time with you, however restrictive the situation may be due to your incarceration. I have no such opportunities. It is my hope, as one mother to another mother, that she never has to know the pain of attending your funeral, whether or not you get to attend hers.
• You say you were a baby yourself when this happened. I say to you: you were old enough to know right from wrong, and your age does not excuse your actions because you chose evil over good.
• You say we have to forgive in order to have inner peace. I say to you, forgiveness begins with self.
• You say you are a good person and are growing each day. I say to you, I hope that is true—for society’s sake. I cannot be the judge of that.
• You say you pray for peace for me. I say to you that I don’t need your prayers.
• You write, “If you still hate me or resent me, my only words are to let go and let God.” I say to you that I am offended by your preaching to me. Quite frankly, your religious choices have nothing to do with mine.

In addition to the letter you wrote to me, you wrote to the State of Tennessee. You wrote, “I haven’t shed blood and he did not die on purpose.” I say to you, you may not have been the shooter who took my son’s life, but you were the person who set everything in motion. And for that, I hold you most accountable for the events of August 8, 2011. Tony thought you were his friend. He trusted you, and you brought evil into his life. Just as you must pay the consequences for the lifestyle you have lived, Tony deserved to face his own consequences for his lifestyle without you imposing your will on him. You chose to go in with others to rob him at whatever cost, and that cost was his life.

But I say to you that love never dies. My bond with my son continues. I know that his spirit waits for me. I know that I will see him again. I know there will be a time when we are together again. I know I must wait until that time when I, too, become spirit.