The Murder of Jeffrey Dryden: The Grim Truth Surrounding Male Domestic Abuse

by Troy Veenstra

  We offered the plea to Chiquita, because we knew our mother would not be able to deal with the stress of a trial. Sadly, most people still won’t except the idea of a man being abused by a woman or that a male was a victim of domestic abuse, in this case however, he was.

  I honestly can’t say why he stayed in the relationship. She did not take the plea right away and that cause more suffering for our family. The idea of her being rehabilitated in prison in 15 years sits all right with me, but in the event, she does not see the error of her ways I ask of you to impose the maximum sentence so no one else will be put through what my family is enduring and will continue to endure all throughout our days.

  On the night of his death, I sent a text that would later be my last to my brother. I said, “Bro what’s up?” and he said, “Working, what else?” I replied, “Doesn’t your company know people don’t work on Saturdays?” I wish I would have included an “I love you,” somewhere in that message…

  Joshua Dryden

  Younger Brother of Jeff Dryden

  ***

  Your Honor,

  I would like to tell you a little bit about Jeffrey Dryden. He was born an identical twin; Jeff and his brother have been inseparable since birth. What one did the other would follow, usually Jeff was the leader, his father died before he was two-years old and was raised by a single mother. He was funny, always laughing, and a charming, sweet young man, slept with his mouth open (one way to tell Jeff apart from his brother).

  He was always taking home stray animals, and as he got older, he would offer his friends a place to stay if they needed one (Before asking his mother’s permission). He was a loving brother, always watching out for his brothers and sister. A great son, watching out for his mom, I think he thought he was the man of the family, being the oldest by a few minutes.

  He had many friends as a child, friendships that have lasted his entire short life. As a friend, he would offer advice and was there for a shoulder to lean on without having to use such words like, “I told you so,” or “you should have known better.” Never judging, never inferring, just listening and being there when he was needed the most. He hated acts of violence and would do anything possible to avoid a physical confrontation.

  Jeff graduated from Lee High School in the top 5 of class and went on to take classes at Davenport while working the factory life. He was a hard worker, who loved his job and the people he worked around (How many people these days do you know that can actually look forward to going to work at a dead in job and say they love being there with their fellow co-workers?). The one thing that is important, if somebody, somehow, someway hurt him, he was always ready to forgive and let live.

  I wish I could be a forgiving as he was, but it’s hard to when the person that hurt you; a hurt that will last your entire life, won’t even admit to the guilt, admit to the actions she took that night when she killed Jeff. The family and friends of Jeff have had their lives changed forever.

  His twin brother is now a twin-less twin, and seems almost lost without his brother by his side; his other siblings have a hole in their lives that cannot ever be filled. His mother will never hold a child of Jeff’s and think how much he looks like, reminds her of him, nor will she ever be able to hear him say the words, “I love you mom,” ever again and yet… Chiquita’s Mom… her aunt will always be able to go see her. Hear her words, and hear her tell them how much she loves them, how much she misses them… how much she can’t wait to hold them in her arms once more… something that none of US shall never be able to do, thanks to her actions that night… the night she killed my nephew, Jeffrey Scott Dryden…

  Roxanne Guild

  Jeff’s aunt

  ***

  Dear Judge Johnston:

  I am Jeff Dryden's cousin. We grew up together. Our family was close, always celebrating holidays and even birthdays together. So you could say Jeff was an important person in my life. As we grew older we still hung out together, before I had my daughter I was at Jeff's house all the time. We did all kinds of things, we took a trip to Canada, the casino, the beach and other places. I remember having grill-outs and dinner at Jeff's house with his other friends. Jeff was fun to be around he always had friends over, he was definitely well liked. I have NEVER know Jeff to be physically violent, he tried to avoid that kind of stuff he didn't care for the drama, he just liked being around people that he cared about. Jeff was the kind of person that would give you the shirt off his back even if he needed it. He was always laughing and having a good time.

  His death has changed my life. There is a missing piece of my past and my future. I can no longer see or spend time with my cousin like I used to. No more family events with him there, or playing volleyball with him at Indian Valley. It was fun playing volleyball with him, he wasn't very good at it but he definitely gave it his all and was never a sore loser or winner. It hurts me bad when my daughter, who has only gotten the chance to be around him a few times, looks at his picture and says "Let’s go see him" or "I miss Jeff". She will never get to know him, but she can sense that I miss him and that I am sad he is gone. It hurts me even more when I think of Jill's children (Jeff's nieces) growing up not knowing their uncle or Jason doing things, that he normally does with Jeff, alone.

  I can't stop thinking of how scared Jeff was that night and how he was alone and I feel terrible. I wish I could have helped him or been there to stop what was going on, but I wasn't and I wish I could change it because he still might be here today and we wouldn't have to go through all this pain. I miss Jeff every day and I will miss him forever. When I hear one of his favorite songs, I cry. I love Jeff and there isn't a day that goes by that I don't think of him, he is always in my thoughts. He had a full life ahead of him that he didn't get the chance to live.

  I think that Chiquita Fizer should get more than 15 years because the people that love and care about Jeff have to go on without him and will constantly be reminded of the void that his death has left. She stole from a lot of people, something that can't be given back. I also think that while she is serving her time she should have to do some kind of anger management class and get counseling for her anger issues, so when she actually is released no other family has to go through the pain and sadness that my family and Jeff's friends is going through.

  Thank-You

  Sincerely,

  Laura Veenstra

  Jeff Dryden's cousin

  CHAPTER 19:

  JUNE 14, 2011

  THE DEVIL IN BLUE GARB

  Almost a year had passed since that warm summer night when Jeff Dryden arrived at his apartment, only to be pronounced dead moments later, the victim of un-controlled rage and anger. The victim of Male Domestic Abuse by the hands of his lover, his abuser turned murderer when she took the next step on the ladder of cruelty and stabbed him in the neck, killing the man, the son, the brother, nephew, cousin and friend of so many in cold blood.

  From the instant of impact, the second, the moment the razor-sharp blade slammed into her victim’s neck, penetrating deeply through his flesh Chiquita was already concocting a tale for her own defense. A story of lies, of falsehoods she assumed only she could verify as truth, as fact.

  Even before his body was cold, before breath had left his small frail frame, before his heart stopped pounding. Before Jeff loss all ability to think, to defend, to speak, she, his killer, his murderer, was conspiring her story of lies. “He was drinking and attacked me with the knife,” she was heard repeating to anyone that would listen, yet the truth would not die so easily as the truth, like God has a way of showing us the light and errors of our ways.

  “Let the record indicate that I have read all the reports. I should also acknowledged a number of letters from the defendant’s family and pastors, as well as have some letters of the precedents family, which take a somewhat different view of the proceedings and what actually happened than the letters of the defendants.” Chief Judge Johnston said as he sat on the bench looking down at the packed full roo
m of supporters for both the Defendant and the unified friends and family of her victim, Jeffrey Scott Dryden.

  “At this point, I would like to take a moment to hear any further observations, comments, or any other information or letters to add and such to the sentencing recommendation report that I may not have already so they may be entered into the records.

  “Your honor,” the Defense said as he walked up to the judge’s bench, “I have one more letter that I don’t believe you have, from one of the Defendant’s pastors I would like to add into record,” the older and unknown male Defense attorney said as he handed the judge the folded piece of paper. “So entered,” The judge replied, placing the letter upside down in the file next to him, never once looking or reading the words stated on it.

  “Well then, let’s hear any victim impact statements and then we can proceed to the allocution by the defense,” Johnston added as he looked towards the Prosecution whom had already began to usher, Tony Leverich, Jeff’s step father to the podium before the court.

  “Good morning sir, may I have your name please for the record,” the judge asked politely. “My name… my name is Anthony Leverich,” he paused for a moment, as he held the scrap piece of paper tightly in his hands as if using it to support himself, “the father of Jeffrey Dryden,” he stated. Tears glistening down the sides of his face as he stood mere feet from the object of his torment the monster that brought him to that very moment.

  “Please tell me how this incident has affected you and your family,” Johnston asked as Mr. Leverich began to speak once more. “Your honor,” he spoke softly at first as if collecting his thoughts, fighting through the hurt and pain one could easily see upon his face. “I… I only had eight years with Jeff, and in that eight years, we developed a very,” Leverich paused. Tears now pouring down from the sides of his face as he wiped them away with the back of his hand, “a very close…,” he gasped, his voice becoming jagged and rough as he tried to read the words on the scrap of paper. “A… a very close relationship,” he sighed deeply. “I… I can’t get this letter out… I have been asked to write because I… I just can’t finish it.” Leverich hissed, taking a deep breath as he gazed deeply towards the judge, raising his voice so that all in the courtroom could hear. “I… I Just hope Ms. Fizer someday admits her GUILT for what she has done and understand how many families she has torn apart by doing this, not only ours but her own.” He took a breath, again rubbing the tears away from the sides of his eyes.

  “I hope that she takes a chance to try to redeem herself. I… I honestly, myself, believe that, once she does her time, she will just do the same thing to another family. I feel terrible for her family BUT anyone from her family can go see her at any time, yet the only time, THE ONLY TIME, I will ever see… my son, is… is the day I die, and that’s all I have to say.”

  Mr. Leverich said as he pushed himself away from the podium, his eyes gazing at the monster, the fiend that took his beloved son from him as she stood against the far wall, her eyes fixed on her IPod, scrolling through it as if she hadn’t a care in the world. Taking his seat in the front row of benches he felt the soft, warm hand of his daughter Lynn caressing his shoulder, as she pressed her face up against him, comforting him in his grief as tears rolled down her face.

  “Good Afternoon Sir and your name is?” Johnston asked as a young, tall man walked up to the podium, his eyes locked onto Fizer as she continued to gaze down at her IPod, “My… my name is Jason Dryden, the identical twin of Jeffrey Dryden,” he stated loudly before the court as if trying to get Fizer to look up and acknowledge him.

  “Alright Mr. Dryden what would you like to say?” Johnston asked as he cleared his throat for a moment looking over towards the Defendant as she kept her sight upon the electronic pad in her hand. “Alright, Chiquita,” Jason said boldly, almost harshly as he dug the tips of his fingers into the wood top of the podium, hiding his anger, his rage as he said what he needed to say.

  “You swinging that knife was with the understanding that you were taking the future from my twin brother Jeff. I believe that you should not have dreams of having a family in the future, as Jeff does not dream at all. I urge the judge to (level) the law and sentence you to the maximum sentence that the guidelines allow and that you get to come to terms with the crime that you, AND ONLY YOU, are responsible. That’s it, your honor,” Jason said as he pushed away from the podium and sat back into the seat next to his beloved family his hands tangling into the fingers of his beloved fiancée, “thank you Mr. Dryden,” Johnston added.

  “Now then, if there are no more victim statements to be made at this time I would like to ask the defense if they wish to make any allocutions?” Johnston asked the Defense. “Yes your Honor, at this time the Defendant would like to make a statement to the family of the deceased and to the court,” the defense stated as Fizer walked up to the podium on the defense side, facing the judge as she looked down at her IPod. “Very well, Mrs. Fizer, please make your allocution to the court and the family of the Victim,” he stated.

  “I would like to say that I---am---so—sorry--- from the bottom---of my heart.” Fizer stated, as she stretched out her words. “I know that you are ANGRY---I know that you’re MAD, and it PAINS me to see that YOU are HURTING… I lost a part of me that night too…,” she said, the words capitalized above stated loudly and clearly, stressing them out with elongated emphasis as she continued to read from the scripted words in front of her.

  “I take RESPONSIBILITY for MY PART EVERY NIGHT—I sleep with a picture of him in my BIBLE, I know that you curse my name that I don’t live too long. Yet, I’m not MAD—I’m not ANGRY, MY HURT GOES OUT TO YOU, every day I am put to SHAME,” Fizer stated. Her words like venom from a viper’s tongue. Lashing over us with her lies, her ignorance to the truth, to what she truly became that night as she continued to make herself sound like the victim.

  “I MISS him TERRIBLY—I MISS HIM TERRIBLY, and when I leave here, I won’t BLAME you, I will PRAY for You---that you BEGIN TO LOVE—I LOVE YOU—And God LOVES you—and you will always—be – in – my – heart—and you –will too.” Fizer said as the anger in my friends and family grew with each vindictive word that fell from her lips. Why would we want the love or the prayers of someone full of so much sin, someone that can’t even bring herself to admit her actions, her own guilt, and now the moment when she has the chance to try and make everything right again, she spits on us with her words. “That night was an ACCIDENT—That night WAS AN ACCIDENT,” Fizer stated, stressing the words over and over again, as if trying to convince the world that she too was a victim, that she did no wrong when she abused Jeff only to eventually kill him in cold blood.

  “It—it will be—with me—for the rest—the rest of my LIFE—the REST OF MY LIFE… and IM SORRY—IM SORRY…” she said repeatedly before walking away from the podium and sitting back down at the defense table with her lawyer. “The rest of her life, THE REST OF HER LIFE,” I found myself repeating coldly, the anger inside me boiling to the surface. How was her repeating “the rest of her life,” supposed to make any of us feel anything but spite for her, I had to wonder. At least she had a life to live still, be it in prison or not, she still had the ability to breathe, the ability to love, to cry… the ability to live… she had so much more going for her as she stood at that podium than that of her victim… so, so, much more than she realized.

  “Well thank you Miss Fizer,” Judge Johnston said, “I can appreciate how difficult this may be for you, but more importantly, I can appreciate how difficult and painful this is for the family of the… of the deceased victim in this case, ah… Mr. Jeffrey Dryden.” Johnston said as he thumbed through the pages in front of him.

  “This incident occurred back on July 18 of last year, in which you and Mr. Dryden got into a heated domestic argument at the residence you shared at the Cross Roads Apartment Complex in Wyoming.” Johnston stated as he read the case brief.

  “When a knife somehow was interjected into the di
spute, in the ensuing struggle you stabbed (remember this is being said by the judge in this case, thus giving a final judgment that Chiquita stabbed Jeff in the neck and not the presumed believe that it was a freak accident and the knife just oddly slipped) Mr. Dryden in the neck.” He stated as Fizer gave a slight yelp, before being handed some tissues by the defense as if she was remembering a traumatic event being forced upon her, an event I hoped would replay in her mind every time she took a breath. “Mr. Dryden,” Johnston continued, “then staggered outside where he collapses and dies,” The judge added.

  “You don’t have much of a record but I do see a conviction from earlier in 2010 for a domestic violence against him for which you were placed on probation and that this transpired somewhat prior to the incident that brings us here this day. Obviously, in retrospect it is clear you did not willfully premeditate the death of Mr. Dryden but rather that you knowingly and intentionally utilized a lethal weapon to stab him in a very vulnerable spot. This brought about his demise, and resorts to violence frequently that has a tragic conclusion to it, even if it is not exactly the conclusion that was intended by the perpetrators as the front end.” Johnston added.

  “Your Guidelines in this case, call for a sentence of between 162 (13.5 years) and a 270 (22.5 years) months.” He stated, as slight whimpers and gasps from her family could echoed throughout the room.

  “However, the prosecuting attorney has recommended that your minimum sentence (the minimum amount of time she must serve) not exceed 15 years, and that is the agreement upon which your plea was taken, and should be the agreement that will be honored here today.

  In light of the guideline, range however, and in light of the sentencing agreement, and in consistent with the magnitude of this offense. I believe that an appropriate sentence involves a lengthy commitment to the Michigan Department of Corrections, but fortunately, for you, you are a young woman, and you will still have a fair amount of life still once your sentence is fully served.” Johnston stated as a slight rumble of emotions from Fizer’s support group could be heard building through the room.