My name is Eugene Jones.
I take full responsibility for the victims I created in the community when I was 19. Today, I’m 45 and not the person I was at 19 when I committed a horrible crime that would change lives forever. While I’m not seeking to make excuses, a childhood filled with trauma often leads to a tragic end. By the time I was 4 years old, the Contra Costa Juvenile Court deemed me a state ward and sent me to live with my aunt in Daly City. Sadly, a lot of unaddressed baggage lingered within me, which negatively affected my growth and decisions, and which tragically led to the death of another human being.
a lifetime of atonement . . .
Respect care, trust, and humility is the motto of the victim’s awareness course that I participated in at Mule Creek State Prison from 2018 to 2020.
In that group not only did I learn its true meaning, I also learned about the aspect of how my crimes created multiple primary victims, secondary victims, and tertiary victims. These three terms point out one or more persons in the community victimized by my crimes; one or more persons such as family and friends, clearly associated to the primary victim who are adversely affected by my crimes. And three, one or more persons who were adversely affected by my crimes, who are either witnesses related to me first responders to the crime scene or anyone in the community who either witnessed or heard about my thorough word of mouth news.
In this context, I couldn’t ignore the harsh truth of my role played in negatively changing people’s lives forever. Not to mention my victim David, who was only 22, years old, which was about three years older than me when I shot and killed him during a robbery.
I regret the day that I made such a terrible choice in taking a human life 26 years ago. There’s a part of me that’s forever lost in time, because of what I’ve done. If you asked me if I deserve to be in prison for my crime for 26 years, I’d respectfully admit that I brought this upon myself.
Even more so when I was first arrested for the controlling offense, a young police cadet came to my holding cell and asked me if I was sorry for what I had done. I answered, Yes, I am.
It seems like such a short time ago.
Back then, at 19, I had an idea that what I did was wrong, but I learned through years of work on myself about the pain loss and trauma I inflicted upon the victim his family, friends, the community and anyone directly linked to me and my crimes. As a new member of FUEL, I’m still atoning for my transgressions, by making amends through a life of community service.