| | | This wreath of artificial flowers is part of a shrine that sits across from the site of Manuel Santos’ murder in Bodega Bay. (Light photo by Jonah Owen Lamb) | |
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On a cold winter night in January, 19-year-old Manuel Santos was shot in the head by a stranger in front of his Porto Bodega home in Bodega Bay.
Six months later the community is still shell-shocked, and the case remains unsolved. Local trailer park residents, mostly Latino immigrants, now walk around in twos, lock their thin doors and eye strangers with suspicion.
“It’s a somber place now,” said resident Sam Garcia, 78. “Before that it was real nice.”
But what strikes so many about this murder is its senselessness, its mystery. Bodega Bay residents and local Sheriff’s Deputy Charlie Bone said that Santos and his friends weren’t involved in any nefarious activity and in the half year since the murder, law enforcement officials have found few leads and no motive, prompting community members to ratchet up their own efforts to find Santos’ killer.
Yet residents are still wary of everything from the sound of passing cars to strangers that drive by eyeing locals.
“It is my community. It’s shaken it in a huge way, particularly the people that live in Porto Bodega,” said Sheriff’s Deputy Bone. “It also brought them closer together, oddly enough.”
Porto Bodega, set beside the harbor, was already an insular place. Most of the park’s residents come from the Mexican state of Jalisco and speak little English.
Bone noted that the cumulative effect of Santos’ murder and a double homicide in Jenner two years ago have scared many. In the Jenner case, two campers were shot to death as they slept on the beach north of Bodega Bay.
“It took us for a shock. Stuff like that doesn’t happen around here,” said Edwin Liebig, 20, who works at Willie’s Bait Shop, near where Santos was murdered.
Bennett tells the tale
On a recent Friday afternoon Connie Bennett, the site manager for Porto Bodega, sat smoking at a picnic table in the park’s recreation room. Children ran in and out of the room, pulling at her sleeves. She told the story of the shooting and the community’s reaction with her rich Oklahoman accent. Several women sat a distance from her in silence.
Bennett described Santos, who worked at a restaurant in Bodega Bay, as a good hard working young man. He’d made his way up to Sonoma several years ago from his home outside of Guadalajara to find his father. Once here he worked hard and sent half of all his paychecks to his son in Mexico, Bennett said.
The night of the murder
On the night of Jan. 24, Santos, with his brother Pedro Santos and two friends, was returning from a soccer match in Santa Rosa. In Sebastopol, a stranger driving a green Honda with chrome rims and tinted windows started flashing his lights and banging the side of his car with his hand. Pedro kept driving, not knowing what the other driver wanted. The stranger followed them to the coast.
Just outside Porto Bodega, Santos pulled over to confront his pursuer. A group of his friends stood on the street after someone in Santos’ car called them. When the man in the Honda pulled out a gun, everyone ran, disappearing into the bushes.
Santos and his brother got back into their car and Pedro drove as fast as he could. Three rounds went off. Two ripped into the car. One struck Santos in the head and he slumped over in the car. Before the night was out, Santos was dead. His killer had disappeared from the scene.
After Santos was airlifted to Santa Rosa Memorial Hospital, detectives interviewed every witness in the Porto Bodega office. Many of the trailer park’s residents were so shaken by the shooting that they lost any ability to speak English, Bennett said. At 1:45 a.m., Deputy Bone told Bennett that Santos was dead.
“Does daddy know?” she asked, referring to Santos’ father, Pedro Santos Sr.
He didn’t.
When Bennett walked to tell Pedro Santos Sr. that his son was dead, she remembers, the father made motions that the bullet had just grazed his son’s skull. But when Bennett motioned that the bullet had gone into his skull, Pedro Santos Sr. fell apart. He was quickly surrounded by his relatives and taken away to his niece’s house.
“He took it really hard,” Bennett said.
Soon after Manuel Santos’ death, a viewing was held in the very same recreation room were Bennett told the story. It was devoid of all its picnic tables. Santos was laid out in an open casket for almost 12 hours. People piled into the small room all day to pay their respects. Santos’ brother Pedro escorted the body home to Jalisco.
Money for reward
Despite the community’s increased insularity, Bennett is doing all she can to raise money for a reward. It seems better than doing nothing, she said. With the help of community members and Santos’ family, Bennett e-mails the governor twice a day and has called everyone form Opera Whinfrey to Montel Williams. She even contacted five psychics.
“Right now I’d do anything,” she said.
The only response she’s gotten so far is from “America’s Most Wanted,” which plans to broadcast a story about Santos in the coming months. Several dinners and raffles have also been held to raise reward money. The events have raised $4,000 for a reward and an additional $9,000 for Santos’ young son in Mexico, according to Bennett.
The investigation
While it has been a frustrating case, Sergeant Robert Giordano, who heads the Sheriff’s Violent Crimes Investigative Unit, said the investigation was “active.”
“We are going to solve this case,” he said.
Out of the unit’s five investigators, two are working on the Santos case. In cases with few suspects, Giordano said, a reward is a good tool to use when there are not many other leads. He explained that any reward money might bring forward a witness who knows Santos’ murderer.
Rewards are often based on the severity of the crime, Giordano said, but it’s hard to quantify how much each murderer is worth. Compared with the $4,000 raised to catch Santos’ killer, the Jenner murders have a $50,000 reward. Despite the difficulties with Santos’ case, there are two major leads: There were possibly two other passengers in the murderer’s car, and sheriff’s deputies continue to track every green, late-model, two-door Honda they find.
The community waits
A death leaves deep scars in any close-knit community. But the Santos murder occurred right on Porto Bodega residents’ doorstep, and seems to have cut extra deep. Today the shrine that Bennett’s granddaughter Tonya takes care of is a constant reminder to locals and passersby alike of the tragedy of Manuel Santos.
The artificial flowers and Virgin Mary candles at Santos’ roadside shrine sit under a cypress tree in front of the trailer park. They face his murder site at the intersection of East Shore Road and Bay Shore Road. There are two crosses; his date of birth and death are written on their wood. “Mexico” is printed boldly on a ribbon inside a wreath of weathered flowers. Below, six votive candles are lit daily as an offering so Santos’ soul can rest in peace.
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