In the 365 days since her emotional release from the Illinois Department of Corrections, Sandra Vasquez is still trying to figure out “how to be free.”
After nearly 13 years behind bars, this 40-year-old mother of two, who was convicted of aggravated drunken driving and reckless homicide for the February 2007 crash that killed five Oswego teens, always knew life on the outside would “take a huge adjustment.”
While Vasquez tried to prepare herself with lots of prayers and help from the Illinois Department of Correction’s reunification program, she describes the first six months following her March 28, 2023, release as being on autopilot, “going through the motions, keeping those routines” of prison life and “not going out of the lines.”
Because there had been so many separations, including short home visits toward the end of her sentence, “I made myself used to not feeling,” Vasquez continues. “But I was missing out on emotional connections with these memories we are supposed to be making.
“Now I find myself able to enjoy my parents, my children, my nieces and nephews,” she says, adding that living with her parents “has been the perfect middle space” to rebuild what was lost as the mother of two small children who were only 8 and 3 when she was sentenced in 2010.
“But there will always be boundaries,” Vasquez adds, “that I still don’t understand.”
Nor is it easy for her to explain the sadness that can overtake her – even opening presents with family on Christmas Day – because she misses the fellow inmates she grew close to in her long stint at Logan Correctional Center.
“I met some of the strongest women there,” Vasquez says, adding that those bonds are one of the reasons she has continued the same job she had in the work release program, as a waitress at the Denny’s restaurant across Lake Street from IDOC’s Fox Valley Adult Transition Center.
Until she finishes her parole in March of next year, Vasquez is forbidden from contacting anyone still under IDOC’s jurisdiction. She can work with them, however, which means she can still see the dozen or so women from the center employed at the restaurant.
After so many regimented years behind bars, “I need that structure,” adds Vasquez, who in the last few months has moved to first shift so she can have more family time.
Plus, an added benefit to this 24-hour restaurant gig has been frequent encounters with young people out on the town. Without going into her own story, Vasquez tells me she makes a point of dropping “gems” of advice about driving under the influence.
It’s a fatal mistake she made when, after consuming alcohol at a family birthday celebration, she went to pick up her younger sister at an underage drinking party in Boulder Hill and quickly found her car filled with eight teens needing rides home.
Five died after her Infiniti sedan crashed into a utility pole on Route 31, turning a misguided but well-intended good Samaritan into a convicted felon responsible for a horrific tragedy that not only impacted her family and the victims’ loved ones, but an entire community.
Vasquez tells me she and her children drove past the site of the crash in April, which brought out strong emotions from all three. Her now 22-year-old son “cried like he was my 8-year-old boy and I told him I was going away for a long time,” she recalls, while her daughter “started praying out loud all the way home.”
Overall, Vasquez proudly adds, the kids are “doing well.” Isaiah lives with his father in California as he has since his mom’s sentencing, working full-time while also pursuing a psychology degree he hopes will lead to a career helping children through trauma.
Seventeen-year-old Brooklyn, too young to remember the accident or trial, is still getting used to having her mother around but “embracing all that comes with the pain,” says Vasquez. Her daughter will graduate from high school soon. But as thrilled as she is to finally witness a child’s big milestone, Vasquez also knows the teens who were killed – Jessica Nutoni, Tiffany Urso, Matthew Frank, Katherine Merkel and James McGee – never got that opportunity.
People hug in 2007 at a memorial set up for the five teens killed in a single-vehicle crash in Oswego on Feb. 11, 2007. Matthew Frank, Katherine Merkel, Jessica Nutoni, Tiffany Urso and James McGee died in the crash. Sandra Vasquez, convicted of aggravated drunken driving and reckless homicide in connection with the crash, was released from prison a year ago. (Jose More / Chicago Tribune)
“I have children I can celebrate,” she says, her voice muffled by sobs as she talks about the victims’ parents. “I lost so much, but others that night lost far more than I can ever imagine.”
We talked about guilt and whether it’s possible to get beyond it.
“Forgiveness is complicated,” Vasquez admits, referring to the strides she’s made in freeing herself from these emotional bars while acknowledging the heaviness still in her heart.
Certainly she understands why those hurt the most might not be ready to extend mercy toward her. Through multiple letters and interviews we’ve shared over the past years, Vasquez has never wavered in her desire to meet the families of the victims.
“My armor is strong enough to withstand the pain their words might bring,” she insists. “I understand if they don’t forgive me … But I know I paid the price. I walked through hell with bare feet and felt every bit of it … even before I walked into prison.
“But I can feel free at this moment.”
Not sure what the future will bring, Vasquez tells me she rarely ventures out, choosing instead to spend time with family when she’s not at work. Technology, even her cellphone, remains confusing to her. But eventually she wants to further her education. Whether that leads to opportunities to work with young people or with inmates, “I want to put myself in a place where I can be the most useful,” she says.
“I was a drunk driver from an accident. It is part of who I am. But those kids (who died) are nudging me to be so much more.”