Her mission: To give voice to her grief
Dawna Blood has a busy day ahead of her. An aunt is flying in from Colorado. Her oldest daughter, a student at Rivier College in New Hampshire, is expected home in West Newbury. Together, they plan to drive to Sturbridge to visit the former godmother of Blood's youngest child.
But instead of celebrating Mother's Day, the women expect to spend this afternoon editing a letter that Blood has spent hours crafting. She hopes to read the five-page, handwritten missive to a Salem Superior Court judge on Tuesday.
For the second time in as many months, Blood will be in court to face the man charged with drunken driving and vehicular homicide in the death of her son, Nicholas Bailey Drolet. Nicholas was killed about 6 p.m. on Oct. 7, 2004, in a car crash on the northbound side of Interstate 495. He was 4 years old.
According to the authorities, Derek Coughlin, 35, of Burlington, a Malden native with a lengthy record of driving violations, was drunk and talking on a cellphone when he lost control of his
Nicholas, who had left his car seat while waiting with his mother for a tow truck to arrive, was tossed from the back seat by the force of the crash and onto the pavement, where Coughlin's sports utility vehicle ran over him, according to State Police accident investigators. They estimated that Coughlin was traveling between 75 and 80 miles per hour at the time of the accident.
Nicholas was nonresponsive at the scene and was pronounced dead at Lawrence General Hospital a short time later. Blood suffered serious chest and shoulder injuries and was hospitalized at Brigham and Women's Hospital for several days.
Attempts to reach Coughlin were unsuccessful. His lawyer, J.W. Carney Jr., said that his client was not drunk, but distracted. ''He was looking down at his cellphone key pad, attempting to place a call," Carney said, adding that Coughlin was on his way home to meet his wife so they could pick up their 3-year-old son from day care.
''Although later charged with operating under the influence of alcohol, Coughlin was not asked by the police to perform any field sobriety tests at the scene, he did not take a breathalyzer, and a subsequent blood test did not detect an illegal level of alcohol in his blood," Carney said.
But Blood and Nicholas's father, David Drolet, 39, of Haverhill, say they are convinced that Coughlin was drunk. They have filed a civil suit against Coughlin and the 99 Restaurant, where Coughlin had been with a friend earlier on the day of the accident.
Blood points to the police report, which noted that Coughlin had ''a strong odor of alcohol on his breath," and ''bloodshot and glassy eyes." According to police, Coughlin was ''unsteady" on his feet and his speech was ''slurred." In their report, troopers said Coughlin told them he had had ''one beer" with a friend at the 99 Restaurant in Haverhill. Coughlin later denied making such a statement, according to the prosecutor at his arraignment. He refused to take a breath-analysis test, police said.
Coughlin, who has been free on bail since Oct. 9, 2004, is scheduled to appear before Salem Superior Court Judge Peter W. Agnes Jr. at 2 p.m. Tuesday, according to Steve O'Connell, spokesman for Essex District Attorney Jonathan W. Blodgett.
Blood is hoping it will be Coughlin's final appearance in criminal court, that the self-employed screen printer will ''do what's right" and plead guilty to motor vehicle homicide. She has been waiting months for the opportunity to address the judge and read her victim impact statement.
Drolet, who repairs highway guardrails for a living, said he is trying to lose himself in his work. ''I'm not going to get my hopes up because every time I do, I'm disappointed," said Drolet. ''I can't tell you how many times I've prepared myself to go to court, to face this man, only to find out that there's been a delay."
As Coughlin's Superior Court date approaches, Blood and Drolet said that their greatest fear is that Coughlin will receive a light sentence. For them, justice demands nothing less than a five-year prison term. That is the minimum sentence that can be imposed for vehicular homicide under Melanie's Law, but the new statute cannot be applied to Coughlin because it was passed in 2005, a year after the accident. Under the sentencing guidelines that pertain to Coughlin's case, he could spend as little as one year behind bars.
According to his lawyer, Coughlin ''is still traumatized by the death he caused. There is no question that he is remorseful for his role in this tragic episode, and will continue to suffer mental anguish." Coughlin has been in counseling since the accident and continues to suffer nightmares and flashbacks, Carney said.
For Blood, Coughlin's expression of remorse and anguish is not enough.
''After going though a long period of darkness in my life, Nicky taught me how to play again, to laugh, and to love," said Blood, 41, a self-described recovering alcoholic who has been sober for four years. ''We had adventures daily. He brought such joy into my life. And then he was taken from me.
''People don't understand," added Blood, her voice breaking. ''They tell me it was an accident. Fate. It wasn't. An accident is when someone's actions could not have changed the outcome. What happened to Nicky was completely preventable."
At the time of the accident, Coughlin had a 10-page record of driving offenses dating to 1987, and had had his license suspended five times. The record lists numerous violations, ranging from speeding to unlicensed operation of a vehicle. None of the violations were for offenses involving alcohol, records show. Most were for minor infractions, mainly the failure to pay fines.
''It's outrageous to me that this man, whose senseless actions ripped apart my family, could spend less time in jail than I spent struggling to get my girls back," said Blood, who, because of her battles with alcoholism, in 2002 lost custody of her daughters -- Amanda Terry, who is now 19, and Amy Blood, now 12.
Amanda and Amy were reunited with Blood and Nicholas in 2003, after living with their respective fathers for more than a year. The family's home is filled with photos and scrapbooks that keep Nicholas's memory alive. In one picture, the smiling brown-haired boy is petting a frog. In another, he's splashing in a pool with his mother.
Like many boys his age, Nicholas loved Buzz Light Year and Thomas the Tank Engine, and would spend hours setting up train tracks that ran the length of their home, from kitchen to living room, Blood said. Amy laughs when she recalls his penchant for puzzles. ''He could put together a 100-piece puzzle in like 10 minutes, but if you helped him with it, you had to make sure he put the last piece in," she said. ''Otherwise, he'd tear the whole thing apart and start all over."
Since the accident, Blood has been carrying a small key ring. It serves no practical purpose -- there is not a single key attached to it. Instead, the simple metal circle is adorned with symbols of Nicholas's favorite things: silver puzzle pieces and little pewter frogs. The delicate ring also sports a small locket, which holds a strand of Nicholas's hair. Blood plans to take it to Salem with her, in the hope that it will give her the strength to address the court.
And although she's not yet sure of the precise words she will say, Blood is clear about the message she wants to convey to Coughlin.
''In recovery, I learned that I had to be accountable for my own actions," Blood said. ''That is what I want him to do. I want him to accept responsibility for what he did."
Brenda J. Buote may be reached at bbuote@globe.com. 
