TOMS RIVER, N.J. (AP) — On the day a 20-year-old was sentenced to spend the rest of his life behind bars for killing a New Jersey police officer, the slain patrolman’s mother yearned for the kind of Old Testament justice New Jersey courts can no longer provide: an eye for an eye.
“ He should get the same treatment he gave Christopher,” said Jane Calaio, whose son, Christopher Matlosz, was shot to death behind the wheel of his police cruiser on Jan. 14, 2011.
Matlosz had pulled up on a snow-covered street alongside Jahmell Crockam, who was 19 at the time and who had two outstanding arrest warrants for weapons charges. Crockam, who had previously vowed to friends he would kill a police officer rather than go to prison, pulled a handgun out of his saggy pants and opened fire on the unsuspecting officer, shooting him three times in the face and upper body.
On Thursday, Superior Court Judge Wendel Daniels sentenced Crockam to prison for life without the possibility of parole. It was a sentence mandated by the law because the jury had found Crockam killed Matlosz due to his status as a police officer performing his official duties. The judge also tacked an extra seven years for a weapons offense onto Crockam’s life sentence.
“Jahmell Crockam has forfeited his right forever for living a life without incarceration,” the judge said.
New Jersey declared a moratorium on death penalty cases in 2006, and repealed its capital punishment law the following year. Chief Assistant Ocean County Prosecutor William Heisler said his office would have sought the death penalty against Crockam “without any reservation” had the law still been in effect.
Anthony Wieners, president of the New Jersey State Policemen’s Benevolent Association, called the sentence appropriate under the current law, but said it falls woefully short of the crime.
“There is no place in this world for someone who would walk up to a police officer in broad daylight and execute him,” Wieners said. “This convict has used his 20 years on this planet to cause misery and harm to others, and he doesn’t deserve one more minute here. He will rest with a roof over his head and three square meals a day, while Officer Chris Matlosz’s friends and family rest with only memories of a hero officer. “
Wieners added the successful prosecution sends a message to anyone thinking of harming a police officer.
“No one guns down one of us without all of us coming for them,” he said.
Wearing green and whitestriped jail clothing, Crockam sat in the box of the jury that convicted him of murder and weapons offenses last month. He did not speak except to answer “yes” eight times to a series of procedural questions by the judge, asking if he understood his post-conviction rights.
Crockam declined the chance to speak to the court before he was sentenced, but looked intently at the dead officer’s mother, brother and fiancee as they told the judge how much pain the murder has caused them.
“I still can’t believe I’m here today,” said Kelly Walsifer, who was to marry Matlosz next month. “I still have to make an appointment for my last dress fitting. My sister is planning an awesome bachelorette party. That’s what I should be talking about — our wedding. I cringe when I think about it. The defendant stole that from us.”
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