By Juan Montoya
Grief has no closure.
As we see the national mourning for George Floyd play out on our television screens, there are also people here who continue to mourn their loved and lost friends and neighbors who have also had their lives grabbed abruptly through no fault of their own.
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Blanca Puga, for example, still grieves for her friend's husband who was shot down in cold blood inside her home as his wife - her friend - watched
helplessly.
The killer, a dangerous inmate who overpowered a lone guard, slashed his throat with a handmade shank, stole his weapon, and then swam across a resaca to steal a car to make his escape.
That was three years ago but to Puga, it seems like only yesterday. In fact, it was three years ago, on June 8, 2017 when and Maria Mercedes Cancino and Mario Martinez were visiting her at her home on Fruitdale Street when his life was ruthlessly taken before their horrified eyes.
Cancino and Puga have been demanding justice since, with no answer in sight.
The widow sued Cameron County, its Sheriff Omar Lucio and corrections officer Antonio Tella in federal court, on behalf herself and the estate of her late husband Mario.
Cancino, represented by Brownsville attorney Ed Stapleton, said in the lawsuit that due to a staffing shortage Tella was the only officer assigned to drive inmate Michael Diaz Garcia from the Cameron County Detention Center to a dental clinic in Brownsville on that day in 2017.
Diaz Garcia made his move in the clinic parking lot. He wriggled free from his shackles and slashed at Tella’s neck with a homemade shank, grabbed Tella’s Glock .40-caliber pistol and fled, according to the lawsuit and media reports.
![Court rejects widow's lawsuit]()
When Martinez tried to reason with the desperate convict, he shot him dead. Martinez died on the floor as the inmate took off and was later shot dead in San Benito as he tried to flee in the man's car.
As Martinez bled to death, Garcia forced Cancino at gunpoint into Julian Puga’s room. Julian Puga, Blanca Puga's son and a co-plaintiff in the lawsuit, gave Garcia the keys to his mother’s car, according to the complaint.
The month before the incident, Lucio told The Brownsville Herald that over the preceding three years his department had lost 45 deputies and 302 detention officers. Due to the understaffing, Cancino said in her lawsuit, Lucio disregarded his department’s policy of transporting dangerous inmates with two jailers.
Cancino and Julian Puga say in the lawsuit that they still need therapy as they are suffering from severe emotional distress from the killing.
They sought punitive damages, claiming the county and Lucio violated their 14th Amendment due process right to be free from “state created danger,” and the sheriff’s department had an informal inmate-transport policy that endangered the public.
Grief has no closure.
As we see the national mourning for George Floyd play out on our television screens, there are also people here who continue to mourn their loved and lost friends and neighbors who have also had their lives grabbed abruptly through no fault of their own.
Blanca Puga, for example, still grieves for her friend's husband who was shot down in cold blood inside her home as his wife - her friend - watched
helplessly.
The killer, a dangerous inmate who overpowered a lone guard, slashed his throat with a handmade shank, stole his weapon, and then swam across a resaca to steal a car to make his escape.
That was three years ago but to Puga, it seems like only yesterday. In fact, it was three years ago, on June 8, 2017 when and Maria Mercedes Cancino and Mario Martinez were visiting her at her home on Fruitdale Street when his life was ruthlessly taken before their horrified eyes.
Cancino and Puga have been demanding justice since, with no answer in sight.
The widow sued Cameron County, its Sheriff Omar Lucio and corrections officer Antonio Tella in federal court, on behalf herself and the estate of her late husband Mario.
Cancino, represented by Brownsville attorney Ed Stapleton, said in the lawsuit that due to a staffing shortage Tella was the only officer assigned to drive inmate Michael Diaz Garcia from the Cameron County Detention Center to a dental clinic in Brownsville on that day in 2017.
Diaz Garcia made his move in the clinic parking lot. He wriggled free from his shackles and slashed at Tella’s neck with a homemade shank, grabbed Tella’s Glock .40-caliber pistol and fled, according to the lawsuit and media reports.
When Martinez tried to reason with the desperate convict, he shot him dead. Martinez died on the floor as the inmate took off and was later shot dead in San Benito as he tried to flee in the man's car.As Martinez bled to death, Garcia forced Cancino at gunpoint into Julian Puga’s room. Julian Puga, Blanca Puga's son and a co-plaintiff in the lawsuit, gave Garcia the keys to his mother’s car, according to the complaint.
The month before the incident, Lucio told The Brownsville Herald that over the preceding three years his department had lost 45 deputies and 302 detention officers. Due to the understaffing, Cancino said in her lawsuit, Lucio disregarded his department’s policy of transporting dangerous inmates with two jailers.
Cancino and Julian Puga say in the lawsuit that they still need therapy as they are suffering from severe emotional distress from the killing.
They sought punitive damages, claiming the county and Lucio violated their 14th Amendment due process right to be free from “state created danger,” and the sheriff’s department had an informal inmate-transport policy that endangered the public.
Incredibly, a court found that the sheriff's department was not liable for the man's death and the widow and Puga's son have appealed the decision.
"I'm a very passive person who loves peace and believes in authority and laws and knows how to follow the rules and walk the line but with all this going on with George Floyd it has just lit a fire under me and I will be silent no more," Puga wrote.
Where, she asks, is the outrage about Martinez's life? It's a sad fact that it has been shoved under the rug by the county and the powers that be. Can you equate one life with another?
Three years later, Puga and Maria Cancino strive for justice. Will it ever come?