Office of Campus Community Relations

April 24, 2002
Davis Enterprise

Andrew Mockus remembered

By Lauren Keene/Enterprise staff writer

Then: Ten years ago today, Davis residents discovered that an unthinkable act of violence -- one they thought occurred only in other towns -- had, in fact, taken place in their own back yard.

On the night of April 24, 1992, 14-year-old Andrew Mockus was brutally beaten and robbed of $2 by three other teens, then pushed into the side of a moving freight train and killed. The incident occurred in a gully near UC Davis, a popular gathering place for youths at the time.

Two days after Andrew's death, Solano County authorities arrested Michael Johnson, 17, and Andrew Childs, 16, both Davis residents and students at King High School. A third boy, 14-year-old Joshua Bettencourt, also took part in the beating but was granted immunity in exchange for his testimony.

The shocking incident served a blow to this community, which in the wake of Andrew's murder struggled with issues such as teen violence, alcohol use and drug use. Johnson, Childs, Mockus and several witnesses were under the influence of alcohol at the time of the incident, and during the subsequent trial youths testified almost nonchalantly about drinking tequila and taking hits of LSD, according to newspaper accounts.

"This town used to be a peaceful town. Now it's turning into violence and drugs," one youth told The Enterprise after Andrew's death. "People that you normally think would never do drugs are doing them."

Four months after Andrew's death, a Solano County Juvenile Court judge found Johnson -- who delivered the fatal push -- guilty of second-degree murder and felony assault. Days earlier, Childs had pleaded guilty to felony assault, admitting he helped beat Mockus before Johnson pushed him into the train.

The judge sentenced Johnson to the California Youth Authority until the age of 25, while Childs received a four-year CYA sentence.

Following their son's murder, Andrew's father Al Mockus and his ex-wife Rami filed a wrongful-death lawsuit against Johnson, Childs and Bettencourt, with the intent of having all their records reflect responsibility for Andrew's death. The case went to trial in 1994, but a Yolo County jury found only Johnson liable in the killing.

Now: Although a decade has passed since that tragic day, few believe that so much time has actually gone by. Those who knew and loved Andrew say thoughts of the happy, brown-eyed boy have always remained within easy grasp.

Al Mockus, who a year after his son's murder told The Enterprise, "I don't know if I'll ever get over it," now says he has come to terms with what happened to Andrew.

"There's a process that you go through, from intense pain to grief, and as time goes by you have to go on with your life," said Mockus, who lives in Folsom and remarried in January, gaining both a wife and two stepdaughters.

But he finds himself haunted from time to time by thoughts of how things might be different had there been just a slight change in events -- for example, had Andrew been pushed just 10 seconds later, after the train had passed.

"I think of how fragile life is, how easy something can change it," Mockus said.

Mockus said Andrew's mother, who now lives in San Francisco, and his older brother Alex, who moved to San Diego, still have difficulty coping with Andrew's loss -- especially Alex, who Mockus said has lost a lifetime companion.

With his diverse interests -- sports, bike riding, playing the guitar with his band -- Andrew attracted an equally diverse group of friends. He was an honor student but, like most kids his age, also had a rebellious streak, his friends said.

John Charlesworth, who played baseball with Andrew, said his sudden death caused some of the kids to grow up and become more responsible, while others headed toward a downward spiral. A few even dropped out of school.

"Looking back, I think it forced a lot of people to make a decision on which way they were going to go," said Charlesworth, now 24, who recently completed service in the U.S. Navy. "Those of us with strong family support were able to stick with it. The others still needed time to be rebellious, and they took it to the other extreme."

Another friend, John Brown, said Andrew's loss taught him to appreciate his life and the milestones -- getting a driver's license, going to college -- that Andrew never had a chance to reach.

"Everything I've done, I've had Andrew in the back of my mind," said Brown, 25, who lives in San Diego and is friends with Alex Mockus. He added that to this day, he remains disappointed in the legal system and the light sentences that were given to Johnson and Childs.

Today, little is known about the whereabouts of Andrew's assailants. Childs would have been released from the CYA at age 20, and his public defender, Harvey Bender, said he has not heard from his former client. CYA officials declined to release either Johnson's or Child's release dates.

Mockus said he received a letter informing him that Johnson was released from the CYA six months early, but he has not tried to track him down or collect the $200,000 awarded to his family in the 1994 civil trial.

"I don't know what they're doing," Mockus said of his son's attackers. "I guess I don't care anymore."

What is known is that Bettencourt's involvement in violence and death did not end on that night in 1992. In December 1995, Bettencourt was involved in a road-rage incident at a Carmichael intersection in which he shot another man four times and killed him. Claiming he shot in self-defense, Bettencourt pleaded no contest to voluntary manslaughter and served five years in state prison before being paroled last October.

"I heard that he was picking up a trade and education, and had goals upon getting out," Davis attorney Rod Beede, who represented Bettencourt in the Mockus and road-rage cases, told The Enterprise last fall. "I'm very hopeful for him. Prison changes people, sometimes for the better."

Others, however, aren't so optimistic.

"That is to me the greatest injustice and the greatest miscarriage of our system, that they're walking on the streets and Andrew is dead," said Larry Berman, who was Andrew's baseball coach. He organized the planting of a memorial grove of redwood trees near the baseball field at Holmes Junior High, where Andrew was a student.

As director of the UC Washington Center, Berman has lived in Washington, D.C., for the past five years but keeps a home in Davis. He remembers Andrew as a boy with great potential and a "wicked curve ball."

When he's here, "I walk by Holmes Junior High and look at the memorial grove," Berman said. "I remember the generosity of the community as they contributed funds to the grove and the bench that's there. The senselessness has been replaced by the great memories of Andrew."

The city of Davis honored Andrew's memory with the creation of the Golden Heart Awards, which are given out each year to youths who make positive contributions to their community.

Meanwhile, teen alcohol and drug use still remains an issue in Davis.

"We're fighting the same battles," said Sgt. John Wilson, a former school resource officer and one of four officers who teach the Drug Abuse Resistance Education (DARE) program at local elementary schools. "We hit occasional peaks and valleys, and the drug of choice tends to change from time to time, but from what I've seen the amount of use is about the same."

According to Wilson, the problems this year tend to revolve around marijuana, a drug that has resulted in numerous disciplinary actions so far this year at Davis High School. In just one week, 18 students were punished for marijuana-related infractions, ranging from possession to sales.

Wilson said the DARE program, which targets fifth-graders, has made a big impact in terms of encouraging kids to avoid drugs and alcohol.

"The one problem we have is that there's a lot of years between fifth grade and high school, and kids have to make their own decisions at some point," he added. "But I run into a lot of kids that tell you they don't want anything to do with any substances."

In the wake of Andrew's death, the Davis Police Department formed the Stop Underage Drinking Squad (SUDS), a team of reserve officers who sought out and busted underage drinking parties at local apartment complexes. The SUDS team has since been phased out, however, due to a combination of changes in state laws regarding the requirements for reserve officers and the hiring of off-duty officers as security officers at some apartment complexes.

The department also began a policy of notifying the parents of all minors attending parties where alcohol is present, even if they don't drink. That policy still exists today, Lt. Jim Harritt said.

According to police, the youths in the Mockus case had been drinking alcohol obtained through "shoulder tapping," in which minors ask adults to purchase alcohol for them. Davis police now conduct regular shoulder-tapping stings outside local convenience stores and cite those who purchase alcohol for youth decoys. The Mockus case was mentioned in the application for the grant that funds the undercover operations.

There have been no incidents of youth violence as notorious as Andrew's death since 1992, and for that Mockus is glad.

Although he moved away from Davis after his son's death, Mockus said he still thinks fondly of the town and still has friends here. When he visits, he stops by the redwood grove, and it provides him with a sense of peace.

"There's not a day that goes by that I don't think of (Andrew), but it's not that painful anymore," Mockus said. "It takes time, but at some point you have to say, you can grieve forever or create a positive life."

-- Reach Lauren Keene at mailto:lkeene@davisenterprise.net