State’s Attorney’s Office for Montgomery County
Maryland
50 Maryland Avenue
5th Floor
Rockville, Maryland 20850
ATTN: Sandra Harper
Criminal Number: 118267
Criminal’s Name: Brittany Norwood
Dear Authorities:
I would like to take a moment to discuss the many ways not only the loss of Jayna Murray has affected me, her family and friends, but also how the murder itself has affected my community and communities across the nation both by those that knew her or simply knew her friends or family and also by those that knew neither but were so affected by the tragedy that it has altered their lives.
I began writing this impact statement a few days after the conviction of Brittany Norwood knowing that it would take me many different sessions of working on it because of the emotional upset that It causes just thinking about the loss of Jayna. That compiled with how brutal and malicious and barbaric her murder was, makes me so upset that I cannot look at the defendant as anything but a monster who needs to be caged and not have any human contact with anyone for the rest of her life. Why should anyone get to have any contact with her when we cannot talk, hug or show our love directly to Jayna. All we have are memories and the constant empty void of not being able to hear her voice, see her smile or feel Jayna’s embrace and intoxicating love of life. Why should her killer’s family have anything different?
This was one of the most brutal murders I have ever seen. I sat in the Courtroom for the entire trial. I did this as support for the family, of whom I am personal friends with as well as for many of Jayna’s friends in Houston who could not otherwise be there. I was glad that the Murrays were shielded from this and I sat through the horrific photos from the medical examiners testimony when others could not so that some that needed to know could know a shielded narration and explanation. I looked at the photos, but Brittany Norwood had no expression and never looked at the photos. Brittany Norwood’s father sat in the courtroom and never looked at the photos. He was in a place strategically so that he would not see the monitors or screen and the rest of the Norwood’s family failed to sit in the courtroom and listen to the horrific brutal crime that Norwood committed. They never bothered to look at any photos and cowardly escaped to avoid having to hear about actions of their relative who savagely took our Jayna away. They need to be forced to know what she did and they need to suffer the same loss that we all do. The difference is that it can never be the same loss because they were two different people. Jayna who was vibrant and kind and loving and full of life. Jayna who is so loving and caring of others that eventhough she had caught Norwood stealing from the store that she still would go out of her way to go back to the store not knowing she was being lured to her brutal death. Brittany Norwood who is a savage monster that was seething with jealous rage and calculations and self serving delusions that she would stop at nothing including making up lies and accusations and using the N word, claiming that the imaginary rapists used the N word to her and that it upset her. Further, she would stage a sexual assault on Jayna and cut her pants and undergarments and sexually assault her after she murdered her.
What is beyond the pale is that for days my friends, community, and colleagues were in fear that something this savage happened in our community where nothing happens and where we feel safe and secure. Brittany Norwood spattered our metaphorical picket fences and we will never get that back.
What is worse is that we will never get back the reality that there are people as self centered and heartless as Norwood. They were Lululemons’ neighbors right next door at the Apple Store. They heard Jayna being attacked, they heard her pleading and crying, they heard her last gurgling breath and they did nothing other than listen. They showed me that our society is broken and it cannot likely be repaired. The Apple Store employees showed me that our society is out of touch and that the mass of the generations following us have no connection to what is the right and the wrong thing to do, or what is just. They have shown our community that there is a terrible emptiness in the mass of people who have no sense of community.
This trial was especially hard for me, since it fell across the anniversary date of the murder of my pregnant aunt and cousin, my childhood playmate. They were murdered on trick or treat night when I was 5. The culprits were never caught, and it has haunted me since I was a child. This case was hard for me, but I pulled my inner strength to be there for my friends, Jayna Murray and the entire Murray family. It was the right thing to do. I sat in the trial every day and listened and watched the courtroom. My upset was causing me to have feelings that I am not proud of. I caught myself a few times thinking of how I could get the deputies to step me back and put me in the holding cell with Norwood. I wanted just 9 minutes with her in that cell so her family could hear her begging and crying and not be able to do anything about it. I had racing thoughts of how much I wanted to make her look at the photos of Jayna and look at what she had done. I just wanted her to have some sense of regret and remorse, but all I saw was a shell with no soul. I saw the same when I looked at her family. Not one of them shed a single tear or showed any sort of empathy for the Murrays. Not one of them seemed to be concerned at the heartache and loss that we were feeling. Not one of them. Their calm and absence of disgust with Norwood was numbing. Not only was she lacking a soul but it was clear that they were only making excuses for her and they would think of anything to excuse her actions.
On Sunday, November 13th I began writing more of my impact statement and was listening to my morning Sunday ritual of Meet The Press. They were talking about the Penn State situation and how it may not have been illegal not to report what they saw or suspected, but it was morally wrong. One of the senatorial/congressional guests pointed out the murder that rocked his community in Bethesda and the nation; how the Apple Store employees were so wrong and a girl was murdered when they could have done something and didn’t. He was talking about Jayna. He voiced his disgust across national airwaves. He never knew Jayna, but this has affected him and pointed out that it shook him and his community. If it bothered him enough for him to bring it up when he was a guest on Meet The Press talking about something else, then think of how much it has shattered the lives of those of us that knew Jayna, and/or her family or friends. It is a scar that will never heal and a wound that will forever deepen with the loss of milestones that were never able to be shared with Jayna.
Thanksgiving has been especially hard this year. I have had flashing thoughts of the Murray family periodically through every day and moment. I think of the void in their lives and it reminds me of the void in mine. My eyes well with tears and my heart aches with both tears from happy times and sadness of the future that was taken away.
As the Christmas season comes and goes I am numb. I am always checking my surroundings. I am not trusting and I am somewhat clingy to my loved ones. Those that know me, know that I will have a panic attacks and have an unsettled feeling after all of this. Christmas has been bad enough for me in years past and this year feels like it is continuously spinning on a broken axis. I want to make it all better and do things my mothers’ dysfunctional southern way and smile and package everything pretty and pretend everything is ok, but it is not. There is a wounded empty void that cannot ever be filled. It is like a scab tries to form to heal the wound and it keeps getting torn off to bleed with every aching thought. It is a wound that will never heal.
I addressed all of my Christmas cards and my packages. It does not matter how many new names are on my Christmas card list this year, there is one name that is gone from my list as well as many others lists – Jayna Troxel Murray. Her name does not have to be on a list to be remembered, she will never be forgotten.
I mailed out my Christmas cards. I was tempted to send one to the prosecutors, but they do not know me. As much as their work was personal to me, it was their job and what they do every day for the citizens, just like I do in DC. It is never personal or emotional until you know the person or the families. I know from my job that you cannot let it be personal. But this time it was personal, and this has torn me apart and made me question everything. No one knows or has any idea how many lives this case impacted because some people close themselves off and cannot express their words, others repress it and others are so numb by it they cannot function.
There is not one day that a thought of Jayna or one of her family members does not go through my mind. I am flooded by what ifs and questions of how they must be feeling. I am haunted by that terrible feeling when you want to call your loved one; but reality appears and reminds you they are forever gone. I am haunted more at the thought of that phone call that you do not want that your loved one has perished. When your loved one is in the military you fear the service car and the uniform at your front door, when they retire you have a delusion that all the danger is gone. When something like this happens in your community you realize that there is more danger here that you ever wanted to accept. Reality forces you to accept the absence of a white picket fence.
On December 23rd I was driving down Rockville Pike and a man on a bicycle was trying to kill himself driving into the flow of traffic trying to be hit head on by a car. I was across the median and yelled for him to get out of traffic or he was going to get killed. He made it clear that he wanted to. I called it in to the police and waited for the police to arrive trying to help him. We tried to find the man with the hope that we would either save him or prevent a driver from having an accident. The sergeant that was on scene and I were talking and Jayna came up. He thanked me for calling it in and taking the few minutes to wait and do the report with him. It brought up how short a time this was in my schedule when it could have prevented a tragedy. It was less than 10 minutes and all I could think about was the lack of help by the Apple employees. The Apple card that was shown in Brittany Norwood’s wallet haunts me. She had points of contact there. Did she know enough about them that they would not interrupt her calculated murder? I spent some extra time talking to the officer and talking about Jayna and how this had affected so many, including the police department. I missed the closing time to where I was going, but that was ok. I just went the next day. Nothing is as important as taking a few minutes to help someone and it was more important to talk to the officer after the case and tell him thank you for all that he does. This case showed only a few of the officers in the Courtroom but there were so many that were involved and never got closure. It is beyond belief how many people that this case affected and we do not even know. Some it has affected and they will say nothing, and others who did not even know Jayna were so affected by this that they came to court and watched the case. Others were close and affected but it was too much for them and more than they could mentally bear. People grieve and have closure in many different ways and the silence or absence of someone speaking up about this should not be misunderstood for not having it affect them and their families.
Christmas Eve Candlelight services approached, came and were gone. I should have gone and been romantically happy with my beau, but my heart was broken. I could not get the image of an empty space at the Murray’s home out of my head. I could not stop thinking of how her family would be at church filling up the entire pew, but for one space; the one that Jayna used to fill. The empty void in their lives tore a space into my heart that cannot be filled. I feel terrible for her fiancé who has to have more loss than anyone can imagine. I ask God, “How?” I want to know “Why?”. I want to know how this can happen to such a wonderful family. I want to know how this can happen in my community. I want to know why this can be so close and this makes me realize that it could happen to me.
I see the news clips from various news stations promoting their great news over the past year. It is highlights and excerpts of interviews with David and Phyllis Murray. It tears me apart. None of this was great news. The media did good coverage of it, but it breaks my heart when I see the pain in David Murray’s eyes and hear it in his voice. The day after the trial I was contacted through Facebook from some of Jayna’s friends from high school They wanted to know. One woman was someone that worked with Jayna’s dad and was very close to some others that were very close to Jayna. She said the whole ordeal had devastated their Houston community as well. She said that Jayna and her Dad spoke every day. It reminds me of the close bond I had with my father and how devastated I was when he died. I know the depth of my pain and I know his is far worse because the death of a child before a parent is not a natural progression or cycle of life. I know the pain and upset I feel when I miss my father, sometimes I break down and I catch myself dialing home to talk to him and reality sinks in that he is no longer there and can only be spoken to in my thoughts and prayers. I feel that deep pain knowing the ache that the Murrays must feel. I feel that empty ache when I am dialing the phone and my loved one is not there; I think of David Murray and every phone call that he misses with Jayna that can never be again. I think of the heartbreak of all of the Murrays and all of Jayna’s friends and extended families. I think of how we all feel this gut wrenching empty feeling.
I pull myself together and I go to work and I realize that I am not the same. I have lost a sense of security that I will never get back. I have lost that sense of safe. My metaphorical picket fence has been splattered and stripped of all sense of security and what is right. My confidence in fellow man has been forever altered. I work in DC Superior Court daily. I deal with cases of murder, guns and drugs. Before it was my job and work that I could separate from my personal life. Now it consumes me. I cannot let it go. I cannot watch a movie that has any sort of violence in it. Unlike much or society I have not been desensitized but instead have become hypersensitive. My boyfriend holds my hand, he looks at me and I feel like everything is ok or better. Then I realize that at any moment he could be taken away from me. I am thinking about the Murrays and I feel the pain and the absence and loss of Jayna, and this also brings up so many other lost loved ones. It opens the wound of losing friends serving in the military in Iraq and Afghanistan and the deeper wound of losing my aunt and cousin to a murder when I was a young child. I feel the pain encompassing me as I think about my friends the Murrays and I cannot get a grasp today that anything is ever going to be ok again. I feel unsettled and empty with this terrible loss.
Today I think of how this year is ending and the new year beginning. I think of one of Jayna’s nephews named Jay. I know that there is a lot of meaning there and that it is a family namesake. I look at facebook posts about the excitement he had about Santa this year, yet my heart breaks because I know that as he grows up he will know, but wonder about his aunt; just as I did mine. I know he will have pictures and memories but just as it has affected us as adults it will affect these little boys too and carry into their adult lives.
There is not enough time in a lifetime to repay a loss that is so deeply torn through so many people and so many lives and communities. Words cannot express a loss so great. There is not one moment of one day that goes by that this case does not affect me. I would ask that you make sure for the rest of the Defendant’s life she has no possibility and no hope of ever having a sense of life or living, but that her existence from day to day is simply a matter of waiting for herself to die.
Thank you.
