Open Letter To The Jodi Arias Jury: No Matter What Happens In This Trial 'Travis Is Still Gone,' Says Pal
After four months of silently sitting in the Maricopa County Courtroom listening intently to the marathon testimony in the Jodi Arias, the jury is finally in deliberations deciding whether she lives or dies by lethal injection.
While they have the life of a killer in the their hands, the friends and family of victim Travis Alexander anxiously await the verdict, now helpless to do anything to change the outcome of the nightmare that began on June 4, 2008 in the bathroom of the devout Mormon's Mesa, Ariz. home.
Tamara Mauro, a close friend of Travis', exclusively shared her thoughts and feelings on the impending verdict with RadarOnline.com in an open letter to the jury, to help heal the wounds that were opened almost five years ago by Jodi when she stabbed her former boyfriend 29 times.
While she can't talk to the 12 men and women directly, the mother-of-two wrote this letter to them in the hope that one day they will read it:
What can I possibly say to you right now? How can I put my thoughts into words? On the one hand, I’ve served on a jury before, and though it wasn’t nearly on the scale of this case, I understand how complicated reaching a verdict can be.
It isn’t always about discovering the “truth,” but about interpreting how laws are written, understanding how information is presented, and then reaching a consensus with 11 other people that you barely know. On the other hand, I won’t even pretend to know what you must be going through right now, knowing that one life has already ended and that you have the power to determine what will happen to that other life. The extent of how mentally and emotionally demanding the last few months have been – and the next several days will be – is beyond my comprehension.
It is true that I am biased concerning this case. Travis was my friend. He helped me out when I needed it the most – not just by giving me a so-called job to help me pay the bills, but also by introducing me to personal development and helping me see greater possibilities in my life. He would let me borrow books and CDs to learn from, have long conversations with me about what I wanted to accomplish in my life, and inspire me through his own goals and dreams.
Much of who I am now is because of Travis. He inspired me to learn and grow every day. Every week he would have a "mastermind" group over at his house and would offer some kind of lesson or training. I loved listening to him speak. He could command the attention of everyone in the audience without even really trying.
I wanted to be able to do that. I still want to be able to do that. I would study for hours and practice speaking in front of the mirror so that I could participate in the trainings. The best part about his training was that even though many of the people who came were there strictly for business purposes, he would always figure out a way to work in something about deeper, more spiritual topics. It amazed me how casually, and yet how eloquently, he would teach about these eternal principles without anyone even knowing he was doing it.
And he’s gone. No matter what happens with this trial, it won’t bring him back. It won’t fill the empty space in his family’s life. Travis is still gone.
I don’t know what you are feeling right now. I don’t know the complex thoughts and emotions that you must be experiencing. I don’t know how mentally and physically exhausted you must be after all these months of trial. But what I do know is that hundreds – perhaps thousands – of people, myself included, will be praying for you this week. I pray that not only will you be able to make the right and best decision, whatever it may be, but also that you may feel comfort in your decision, that you can have peace in your own life after this ordeal.
Thank you for serving on this jury. I trust that you will do what you feel is best.
With hope and love,