Coming face-to-face with the man accused in the death of their daughter, Prionna Kenney and D’Arrah Jackson felt numb at times and overwhelmed at others while sitting in a DeKalb County courtroom in late March waiting to testify in the case.
It wasn’t D’Arrah’s first time seeing the man who crashed into the back of their car in November 2020, killing 12-year-old Amiah Kenney and her emotional support puppy, Noah.
But though D’Arrah, who is Amiah’s stepmother and Prionna’s partner, got a good look at 43-year-old Eric Rodriguez following the wreck, she said it was still an eerie feeling to see him again.
”Seeing Eric for the first time in the courtroom, it shook me to my core,” D’Arrah told The Atlanta Journal-Constitution via phone on Saturday. “I see him, I see his gesture, and now I have to deal with the turmoil of actually his voice.”
A jury found Rodriguez guilty of vehicular homicide, tampering with evidence, driving without a license and no proof of insurance in the fatal crash. Last week, he was sentenced to 18 years in confinement, the DeKalb District Attorney’s Office said.
Amiah would be 14 now, would have graduated from Pinckneyville Middle School in May. A page in the school yearbook will be dedicated to her short life.
“She was still a kid. She was just a kid,” Prionna Kenney said. “You robbed me. You robbed her. Forget me, you robbed her.”
On that rainy Nov. 11 night, D’Arrah drove Prionna, Amiah and Noah to pick up their niece who had a flat tire in Doraville, leaving her stranded on Peachtree Industrial Boulevard. When they arrived, the stranded woman was still gathering some of her things, so Amiah and the others waited in the car with the hazard lights on and their seatbelts fastened.
As the family patiently waited in their Toyota Camry, they were rear-ended by a Range Rover driven by Rodriguez, DeKalb DA Sherry Boston said. Amiah was seriously injured in the wreck, but Rodriguez stepped out of the vehicle, assessed the damage and tried to drive away. When the SUV would not drive, he ripped the temporary tag off the back and ran off, Boston said.
“A monster in you decided to leave. That is not humanity,” Prionna said about Rodriguez’s choice to flee the scene following the crash.
Credit: DeKalb County Sheriff's Office
Credit: DeKalb County Sheriff's Office
Amiah was taken to Children’s Healthcare of Atlanta at Scottish Rite, where she died. Noah was also killed in the crash.
Prionna said she thought Rodriguez might never be caught. But due to his unique appearance and tattoos, he was identified from security footage of a bar fight that happened a few days after the wreck, Boston said. Investigators also linked the registration of the Range Rover to him.
Amiah was still playing with Barbies and watching cartoons when her life was taken. D’Arrah explained that Amiah had her goals all set, having created vision boards since she was 9. She was already planning to go to the University of Southern California and study archeology after finding a love for collecting rocks.
For what would have been Amiah’s 14th birthday on Jan. 11, D’Arrah and Prionna took their teal lawn chairs to her gravesite. They took pink and purple flowers and spent the sunny afternoon chatting with the girl who had it all planned out from a young age.
Then, two months later, they had to go to court and relive their daughter’s final moments.
“It was gut-wrenching to have to see my daughter looking like paper mache, dissected on a big huge theater screen in the courtroom,” Prionna said. “I can’t erase nothing from my mental that I have seen in that courtroom, heard in that courtroom.”
While giving her impact statement during sentencing, Prionna said she was frustrated that Rodriguez kept interrupting.
“I didn’t get a chance to finish my (impact) statement because he kept interrupting and wanting to give his opinion,” Prionna said. “The judge had to tell him a couple of times to be quiet.”
Rodriguez’s sentence wasn’t nearly long enough for the grieving family.
“I don’t feel like that was justice, just to be totally honest and transparent, based on the act of accountability that he took at the scene,” Prionna said through tears. “So that alone for me, the fact that what if he did call for help right when he saw us? What if he did try to help? Like, who knows how this would have turned out?”
Credit: Family Photo
Credit: Family Photo
Since then, it has been quiet for Prionna and D’Arrah for the first time since the fatal crash. But that silence has not been peaceful.
Prionna doesn’t know what to feel now that the case is closed. Until having to testify in court, she had been making up scenarios that Amiah was on vacation — that she would be coming home soon. But now with Rodriguez locked away, she realizes she must come to terms with the fact her only daughter is gone.
“I live in denial that my daughter is gone because I will lose my mind. If I really grasp the fact that this man took my baby off this Earth because he wasn’t paying attention,” Prionna said. “I will never be normal. I will never be the same. Every single day is a fight for my sanity — I don’t know if that will ever go away.”
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