Chris Churchill
Mothers linked by loss of sons find friendship, support.
SBallston Spa oon after Lois Christie’s son died, she received a phone call from Patty Jackson. Christie’s son was Daniel Satre, who died four years ago this month after police in Ballston Spa repeatedly shocked him with stun guns under circumstances that remain unclear and troubling. Jackson’s son, Darryl Mount Jr., died that same year, 2014, nine months after he ran from police in Saratoga Springs and was grievously injured. The circumstances of Mount’s death also remain controversial and aspects of the case, including a police chief’s admission that he lied about investigating the incident, are certainly troubling.
In that call, Jackson offered condolences and support from a mother who had suffered through a similar experience. In the years since, the mothers have formed a deep friendship, one born of grief, but also of the conviction that their sons died improperly and that the full truth has not been told.
“It’s an awful thing to have in common,” Christie said.
Christie lives in Vermont, about two hours from Jackson’s home in Saratoga County. Like many friends, the women keep up on Facebook, but also talk regularly on the phone and visit once or twice a year.
“I adore Lois,” Jackson said. “I completely appreciate her support, and I know she feels the same about me.”
Christie’s son died after police were called about an agitated man in the road. When they arrived, officers found Satre yelling outside his house and tried to
take him into custody. When he resisted, they tasered him until he passed out.
In the only publicly available video of the incident, a neighbor can be heard asking, “Do they have to tase him that much?” As the stun guns crackled in the darkness, the woman added: “That’s enough. They’re going to kill him.”
The neighbor was right. Satre was taken to Saratoga Hospital after he became unconscious, where he died just after midnight Sept. 21, 2014. He was 43 years old, a father with two children who owned a screen-printing business.
A grand jury declined to indict the six officers — two from Ballston Spa, two sheriff’s deputies and two state troopers — and officials declined to say much about what had happened. That means Christie has been left with unanswered questions, all of them valid.
Why couldn’t six officers subdue a pudgy, middle-aged man without repeatedly tasering him?
Why did they need to subdue the unarmed Satre at all? Why did they respond to an apparent and unexplained psychological meltdown with aggression?
And why was Satre so badly battered? His family says his body was so bruised that he was unrecognizable; a family attorney said Satre’s ears had been pulled from his head.
A potential wrongful death lawsuit fizzled amid family conflict and missed deadlines. The statute of limitations has passed, and Christie understandably believes her son’s case has been forgotten.
“His life was swept under the rug,” she said. “It meant nothing. Nothing was done.”
But Christie is encouraged by what’s happening for her friend. Unlike the Satre case, Mount’s death remains in the public eye, largely because of a civil lawsuit filed by Jackson.
Police say Mount assaulted his girlfriend (she says the assault was merely a shove) early in the morning on Caroline Street. During the subsequent foot chase, police say, Mount climbed and then fell from scaffolding. He never regained consciousness and died nine months later.
Jackson believes his injuries are inconsistent with a fall and were inflicted by police. Whether that proves to be true, her lawsuit brought a startling revelation: In a deposition, Police Chief Greg Veitch admitted he misled the public about conducting an internal probe into Mount’s death. Turns out, there was no investigation.
That has led to calls for Veitch to resign and demands for a new review into Mount’s death. Christie, watching it all from a distance, noted with pride that her friend is getting results and forcing change.
“She needs the closure and justice for her son,” Christie said. “I had hoped that there would be a day when that would happen for me, when I would get answers and the truth. I don’t know how that’s going to happen for me now.”
The veil of secrecy surrounding Satre’s death is unfair to the public, which has the right to know why a man died in front of his home. And it certainly is unfair to Christie.
“She has struggled badly with it,” Jackson said. “Your child is your child is your child, no matter what age.”
Jackson says the circumstances of Satre’s death still shock her. And while she’s grateful to have Christie as a friend, she would rather they hadn’t been brought together by such sorrow.
“I just wish it could be different for her,” Jackson said. “I would never want anybody to feel the pain that comes with something like this.”