A Death in Ocean City

Special Report: A drunken driver cruising up Coastal Highway. An optimistic Towson University student stepping off the curb. How two lives intersected in tragic fashion, and the ripples that remain. 

SNOW HILL, Md. – The letter arrives at the Worcester County courthouse on July 20, 2012, a few weeks after the car accident that took Matthew Cheswick's life. The author's handwriting is crisp on lined notebook paper.

Dear Judge Richard R. Bloxom, he writes, how are you doing sir? I'm Diogo Facchini and I am writing to you because I no longer know what to do.

Before that night, he wrote, everything in his life had been moving in the right direction. He finally had a good job, in construction. His young son, who had been taken by his mother to live in her native Bolivia after their divorce, was on his way back to the States.

I haven't seen my little boy for a year and a half now. I can't imagine the pain the Cheswick family is going through. Never able to see their son again or get to kiss him and hug him. My life would truly be over if I had lost my son. I just wouldn't have a purpose to live anymore.

But after the night of May 28, 2012, nothing would be the same for Diogo Miller Facchini, or for the family of Matthew Cheswick. Both sides today are still struggling to cope with this moment, when one man's life ended and the other's was forever changed.

Matthew's death came during a period of summer 2012 where more than 40 people were hit by cars on Coastal Highway, including one other pedestrian fatality, a teenage girl. The string of incidents brought unwanted attention to Ocean City and led state highway officials to revamp traffic signals and crosswalks in an effort to stem the tide of injuries.

While Matthew's friends are now petitioning the courts to keep the driver behind bars, the families of both the driver and the pedestrian have come to rely on their faith, and each are praying for a lost son.

The Night Of

It was about 1 a.m. May 28, 2012, when Matthew and his friends were leaving Macky's Bayside, a bar at 54th Street. They were walking back to their hotel and needed to cross Coastal Highway to get to a bus stop.

A week earlier, Matthew had spent time relaxing with family after getting through finals at Towson University, according to one of his last two Facebook posts on May 20, 2012. "Good to be home," he wrote. "Couldn't be more blessed to live the life I live."

According to the results of his autopsy, Matthew's blood-alcohol levels that night were so low that he hadn't even finished one drink.

In his letter, Facchini writes that he drank so heavily on that Saturday night that he was still dizzy and half-drunk when he awoke Sunday. Still, he decided to drive out to Ocean City from his home in Lorton, Va., about a four-hour trip, to keep the party going.

Instead of eating I was so worried about having fun that I took a shower and got on the road. Thank God I made it to the beach fine, but after I checked into a hotel I continued to make mistakes by having 5 beers with some ladies I met at the pool.

He napped and then headed out for a night of dancing at Seacrets, a 49th Street bar. He drank six beers there, he told the judge. Later, he told police he was drinking Heineken beers two at a time because he was "trying to have a good time."

I wasn't no more than an hour at the club and my head was feeling fine and clear. It's why I decided to drive. I was more tired than anything else I just wanted to get to my hotel and get some sleep.

Facchini was traveling at 30-37 mph when he struck Matthew, who police say was standing in the bus lane of northbound Coastal Highway at 54th Street. At his trial, a prosecutor said Facchini would have had several seconds of elapsed time to see Matthew in the road.

Matthew's head struck the front of the passenger's side of Facchini's 1995 Isuzu Rodeo. The impact broke the windshield and fractured his skull, court documents stated.

I didn't have much time to react even though I tried my best to miss him it was too late.

As Matthew lay on the roadway, surrounded by stunned bystanders, Facchini continued north on Coastal Highway without stopping.

He made a quick turn onto 55th Street and drove to the head of that street, where a person who'd seen the accident tried to hold him. He then made a U-turn and returned to Coastal Highway. There, he was stopped again by a group of bystanders who had observed the accident, according to court documents.

I also wasn't trying to run away sir ... If I was trying to run I would left my car and reported stolen. I told the officer I just hit someone sir and that's when he asked me to do the drunk test.

Police at the scene found the 30-year-old Facchini standing outside his car, smoking a cigarette and swaying. He failed an array of field sobriety tests, including saying part of the alphabet aloud and walking a straight line.

"I got you, I got you," he told the officer through slurred speech, court documents show.

"They (expletive) crossed the street when they weren't supposed to, but I'm going to get (expletive) for it. Yeah, I got it. I'm drunk. I'm drunk. I've been drinking, but they were not supposed to be in the street when the (expletive) green light is on. I've been drinking, I'll agree to that. I've been drinking."

Cheswick was pronounced dead shortly after arrival at Peninsula Regional Medical Center in Salisbury. At the same time, Facchini was at the police station at 65th Street. When police gave him a Breathalyzer test, he a blew a .27. The prima facie legal limit in Maryland is .08.

Facchini was convicted in September 2012 of drunk driving and negligent homicide by motor vehicle. Judge Bloxom sentenced him to a five-year prison term, with five more years of the sentence suspended. He is currently being held at a state prison in Hagerstown, Md.

If I'm found guilty for being negligent I deserve to pay but I trully don't believe I was.

"Gift of God"

It's been more than a year now since Cecilia Roe lost her son, a bright and bubbly 22-year-old man with hopes of pursuing a career in occupational therapy. Roe said her Matthew was so careful about not drinking and driving that he wouldn't even get into a car with a driver who'd had a few drinks.

The irony of his losing his life to a drunken driver tugs at Roe still.

"I still have some really bad days," she said. "For the most part, I've tried, when I feel the pain coming, I try to push it away. I start praying for strength, and the strength comes, it really does. The pain comes on me unexpectedly. It builds up, and I don't see it building up, and all of a sudden it just hits with a vengeance."

Matthew Jude Cheswick was born May 14, 1990. His mother, in her own letter to the judge, described how she gave birth to Matthew at age 35, after years of artificial insemination, IVF cycles "and intense prayer that God would give me a child."

"I chose the name Matthew because it means 'Gift of God,' " she wrote. "Little did I realize that I would only have that gift for 22 short years."

Roe said her young son was outgoing and made friends with ease. His teachers marveled at how, in study groups, Matthew would regularly invite the child that no one else wanted.

"That's like, unheard of, for a middle school student," said Roe, a former teacher who now works at the state Board of Education. "He was just a good person. He cared about others."

Roe said her son, Luke, who just turned 17, has the same smile as Matthew, but she doesn't see it as much anymore. He's always been more quiet than his outgoing big brother.

"I'm not sure how deep his pain is, and I'm not sure what he feels, because he doesn't talk about it," she said. "He went from being the younger son of a brother he idolized and adored to now being an only child. He's having difficulty reconciling that fact."

For Matthew's birthday this year, Roe took friends and family out to what was Matthew's favorite Japanese steakhouse, where they celebrated his life. She gave out little scones that said "faith" and "hope" and "believe." Afterward, they brought the balloons outside and released them into the sky.

"We let the helium balloons go up to heaven. I thought the best thing to do was celebrate. I needed to celebrate his birth and his life. That really worked. I didn't break down that day. I thought this was a great way to celebrate Matthew's life and not mourn," she said.

The parole process

Diogo Facchini has already filed paperwork to get the ball rolling on his parole process, which is his right under state law. But now, one of Matthew's best friends has started an online petition to keep him behind bars for the duration of his sentence.

The petition seeks for parole officials to deny Facchini any parole. It now has about 3,500 supporters, and is seeking 1,500 more.

"We're trying to ensure that justice is served," said Carl Braun, 24, who created the petition on the website Change.org. "When me and my friends found out that he was up for parole, we sat around saying, 'What could we do?' "

Matthew was a year younger at Glenelg High School, and they started hanging out a lot when Carl was a senior and Matt was a junior. They played rec league sports together.

"He would talk to anybody," Carl said.

Carl graduated and went to West Virginia University but didn't stay. At the same time, Matthew was graduating high school. They both decided to attend Howard Community College and start fresh.

When Carl confided in his friend that, well, maybe college wasn't for him, Matthew would immediately encourage him otherwise.

"The rest of my life, I will always use his words of encouragement in tough times," Carl said. "It sounds cliché, but I know exactly what he would say to me if I'm feeling down... 'Come on man, we've been through this. Get up and get going.' "

In Maryland, nonviolent offenders are required to serve only 25 percent of their sentence before they're eligible for release, according to Mark Vernarelli, a spokesman for Maryland Department of Public Safety and Correctional Services. That figure rises to 50 percent if it's a violent crime.

Crimes of violence are spelled out in state law, and negligent homicide by automobile while under the influence of alcohol — the crime for which Facchini was convicted — is not among them.

After serving a minimum of 15 months, Facchini could be eligible for parole early next year. Vernarelli is quick to point out that this does not mean Facchini would be eligible for release.

"People are understandably alarmed when they hear that a person is eligible for a hearing after serving only a short amount," he said. "But just because he's eligible for a hearing does not mean he's eligible for a release. Certainly, the parole is very sensitive in cases like this that involve a loss of life."

Vernarelli also said prisons conduct programs aimed at modifying people's behavior, whether that's substance abuse or anger issues.

"We don't just lock people up, we do try to change people," he said. "We try to supply as many programs as we can to change people's behavior, to make them contributing, taxpaying citizens again and not to create any new victims."

Young love – and a son

Erika Medrano met Diogo Facchini through mutual friends, and hit it off right away thanks to their shared South American heritage: He's from Brazil, and she's from adjacent Bolivia. It wasn't long before they married in February 2005 and had a son, Franchesco, who is now 6 years old.

"Well, Diogo has a really big heart," said Medrano in an interview. "He's a really good dad. I think that was one of his happiest moments, when he became a father."

Facchini never knew his biological father. In another letter to the judge, from December 2012, he describes how his mother left him when he was an infant to live with his grandparents in Brazil. He joined his mother in the U.S. at age 13 and lived with her until he was 17.

Medrano said her husband would drink socially, but in her opinion, he never had a drinking problem. In the time they lived together, she forbade drinking or smoking of any kind in their household.

In a letter to the judge, Medrano says she was the one who broke off their marriage in September 2007 "for selfish and personal reasons."

Facchini had supported them financially, even after they split up. But with Facchini in jail, the money wasn't there. Medrano decided to move her son to stay with her family in Bolivia, while she stays in Northern Virginia to work at a hotel.

"It's obviously cheaper to have him over there," she said. "He's in a good school, he's getting to know the culture — my culture, my blood. But it's definitely hard not being next to him, because I've never been away from him. So I've definitely lost a son as well, for the time being."

Today, she lives in Dumfries, Va., and every so often travels to Hagerstown to visit him in prison.

"He's trying to keep a positive mind," she said. "What has helped him, and what's really surprising to me, is he's been finally able to accept God, and know there's a God out there. He's gained faith, which is very important to me and my family, and we pray for him every single day. We pray for Matthew's family, as well."

When Facchini leaves jail, "he's going to be a different person," she added. "He's going to be a different dad, a different friend, a different husband, and it's all for the best."

The fallout

After having time to think in jail, Facchini, in a letter to the judge, admits that he had "a big issue" with drinking. He says he sees Matthew's face each night as he tries to fall asleep.

I made a big mistake and now I've ruined my life. None of these people I'm locked up with are anything like me, and when I hear them talk prison is basically part of their lives. I'm yet to hear any one of them say that they're going to better themselves or stop committing crimes once they get out.

When he finishes his sentence and pays his fines, Facchini says he wants to take his young son back to Brazil and raise him there. He hopes one day to tell other young men about his situation, a cautionary tale of what happens when you drink and drive.

After Matthew's accident and dozens of others last summer, the Maryland State Highway Administration is making major changes to Coastal Highway, starting with the addition of a crosswalk and a traffic signal at the site of Matthew's accident at 54th Street. The spot happened to be the longest stretch of Coastal Highway that didn't have a traffic light.

As a part of what they're calling a "Walk Smart" campaign, the State Highway Administration is giving pedestrians seven more seconds to cross Philadelphia Avenue while drivers idle at a red light. Other changes to come, like wider sidewalks or median fencing, are up for discussion.

Matthew's bench

Each fall, Roe would take her own vacation in Ocean City during the annual convention of the state teacher's union. One of the few restaurants that stays open in the offseason is Tony's Pizza on the Boardwalk, so heading down to the boards and grabbing a slice became a family tradition, too.

When Roe decided to put a memorial bench on the Boardwalk for Matthew, she wanted it to be as close to Tony's Pizza as possible. Today, it stands between Third and Fourth streets on the boards.

Roe said they needed to raise about $1,700 for the bench. The outpouring of support was so great from friends and family that they ended up with about $5,000. Extra money was channeled into a scholarship fund for students at Glenelg High School in Howard County, which Matthew attended.

Matthew and his younger brother for years had been huge Baltimore Ravens fans. They had season tickets since the team arrived in 1996 and attended just about every game at M&T Bank Stadium with their father, Roe's ex-husband, Chris Cheswick.

At one game, their dad had hung a banner that was captured by TV cameras, with quarterback Joe Flacco in the foreground making a pass. Chris Cheswick turned that into a still image, one he wanted to get Flacco to autograph. A friend contacted Flacco's people, asked for the autograph, and happened to relay the story of Matthew's accident, according to Roe.

Earlier that day, Flacco had been offered $25,000 by Dairy Queen for a promotional appearance. After hearing the story of the accident, Flacco turned around and offered to donate that amount to Matthew's memorial fund.

"I had the opportunity to have a little bit of fun and get to meet them and support them," Flacco told The Baltimore Sun in April. "They seem like a great family."

The oversized check to the Matthew Cheswick Memorial Fund, with its Dairy Queen logo, is still set aside on the living room floor at Roe's home in Cooksville. Roe said the money will fund annual scholarships in Matthew's name for years.

For her part, Cecilia Roe has forgiven Diogo Facchini for taking her son's life. She's comforted by what she sees as signs and coincidences – dragonflies lingering at home, a rainbow appearing in the sky on his birthday – that tell her he's watching over her.

She believes Ocean City should be proactive and install sobriety checkpoints along Coastal Highway at night.

She hopes Facchini can one day become an activist for drinking and driving, something she calls "probably a pipe dream."

"At the sentencing, the judge said he was so drunk — that his alcohol level was so high — that most people can't even crawl, yet he got behind the wheel of a car," she said. "Something needs to be done before he gets paroled. I want him to be cured.

"Whatever amount of time it takes for that to happen is how long I want for him to stay."