Family works on Emily’s law

Published Saturday, February 10, 2007

Although it’s too late to help their daughter, Travis and Lynn Johnson are working with local legislators to create “Emily’s Law,” which would lower the age a juvenile could be tried as an adult and how long the incident remains on the record.

Emily Lynn Johnson, 2, died June 17, of a severe head injury a day after being assaulted at Deborah Koenig’s home day care, by a 13-year-old boy, identified by community members as Koenig’s son, Zeb.

By law, 14 is the youngest age a juvenile can be tried as a adult. Because he is a juvenile, the courts and all parties involved, including Emily’s parents, are not allowed to discuss the outcome of the case. When he turns 19, the law says the incident can be expunged from his record.

“We didn’t know any of these laws,” Lynn said. “You don’t until something happens. This is the way juvenile laws are written and it doesn’t make any sense.”

“The county was good about helping us through this,” Travis said, “but their hands were tied. Was justice served? No. We’ve visited with Torrey (Dist. 11A Rep. Torrey Westrom, R-Elbow Lake) and Bud (Dist. 10A Rep. Bud Nornes, R-Fergus Falls) and asked them to look into this. Is 14 the appropriate age and could they look at what other states are doing? Killing someone at a juvenile age should be taken more seriously. And when they turn 19, it shouldn’t be cleared from their record.”

“Right now, the earliest age juvenile offenders can be certified as an adult is 14,” Westrom said. “We want to change that for cases such as murder or assault with a weapon — any action that threatens others’ lives. We’ve been following what other states have been doing. Some go as low as 10. We’re looking at 13.”

There’s two issues here,” Nornes said. “One is changing the current law. We want to change the age someone can be charged as an adult in certain situations to 13. The other issue concerns how long it can stay on their record. There ought to be more consequences when you’ve killed somebody.”

Emily’s Law carries special significance for Westrom, who graduated from high school with Lynn.

“When you hear about these kinds of cases, it’s usually someone you don’t know,” Westrom said. “I knew Lynn well. We were FFA officers together in school, so it goes a little deeper.”

“It’s a tragedy for them and we want to try and help them through it,” Nornes said. “It won’t go away, but it might help the family a little bit.”

Nornes anticipates the proposed law will have bi-partisan support.

“It’s a no-brainer,” Lynn said. “How could anyone be against that?”

Laws can be changed, but the Johnson’s still have to live everyday without their only child. This year marked their first holidays without Emily.

“For Thanksgiving, we didn’t do anything,” Travis said. “We stayed at home and that was hard on our families as well — they’re missing Emily too. So at Christmas, we made the extra effort to be with our families but it wasn’t the same. Nothing is.”

“It was so hard to go Christmas shopping,” Lynn said. “It was hard to be in the toy aisle. I’d see something and think, ‘Would I get her this or that or both?’”

There were three different family gatherings to attend and a point was made to include Emily at every one. At each a candle next to Emily’s picture was lit and Lynn attempted to recite the “Christmas from Heaven” prayer.

Emily’s parents will never forget the Friday in June their world was upended. Lynn was at work in Fargo when she got a call mid-afternoon from the babysitter, saying something was wrong with Emily — she was breathing but wouldn’t wake up. Travis was at home, getting ready to paint Emily’s playroom. Lynn arrived at the Fergus Falls Hospital in time to see Emily for a few moments and give her her beloved stuffed lambie before she was rushed to MeritCare Children’s Hospital in Fargo. They had no idea what was wrong, only that something was seriously wrong with their child. They were eventually given the news that Emily’s brain was severely damaged. They held out hope, but finally they had to face reality.

“We had to make the hardest decision we will ever have to make in our entire lives,” Lynn said. “At 5 p.m. (Saturday) we made the decision to take Emily off life support and let her go to Heaven where no one could ever hurt her again. Each family member took time to say their final good-byes to Emily. From about 7:30 p.m. on, Travis and I spent some precious alone time with Emily … We sang to her, talked to her and rocked with her. At 8:59 p.m., Emily was pronounced dead in our arms … How can we explain how quiet it is on our house now? There is no laughter, no singing, no playing. Only tears and sadness.”

Emily was laid to rest June 23 with two blankies and her lambie. Her family spent the passing weeks fashioning a large quilt from her clothes, each square representing a memory of her.

“It helped us get through the late summer and fall of the year,” Lynn said. “It helped us to talk about differernt memories from different outfits.”

Emily’s bedroom is much as she left it nearly eight months ago. Her red ladybug boots still sit by her bed while her favorite Elmo jacket hangs from its hook on the bright yellow walls. The clock above the bed still ticks.

“Sometimes it feels like just yesterday,” Travis said. “Sometimes it feels like forever.”

On Emily’s dresser is a plaster cast of her tiny hand, made at the hospital just hours before she died — every crease, every fingernail perfectly captured.

“It’s the last thing we have of her,” Lynn said.