Guest columnist Lynn Berk: Con man detracts from victims’ suffering

Thursday, April 19, 2001 | 10:18 a.m.

Lynn Berk, a publicist in Las Vegas, is a former Sun reporter.

Thomas Nevius' battle to stay alive galls me to no end because by pleading for his life, someone else has been forgotten here by everybody but the prosecutor -- and I don't even mean David Kinnamon. I mean his wife, Rochelle, who was as destroyed by that coldblooded murder as David was, and I know because I had the privilege of meeting her.

When I was a reporter, I sat with Rochelle for two hours in a dark restaurant and listened to what happened that night in their apartment on King Richard Drive. I remember a lot of things. I remember how she told me she never opened her door at night to anyone after 9 p.m. anymore, not without a weapon close by.

I remember they were saving to buy a condo, that they wanted to start a family, that David used to peel the onions for dinner for her so her eyes wouldn't tear.

I remember how she wanted me to warn people to keep their doors locked, how that night was so hot she kept the patio door open to catch the merest hint of a breeze.

I remember her telling me how the thugs herded her up the stairs with a gun, laughing and joking, before pushing her down and tugging at her shorts.

I remember her telling me that they heard her husband come in and start up the stairs, how they were fleeing out the window, they were out, they were gone, when Thomas Nevius turned back in and shot David Kinnamon for no other reason than to shoot him. He couldn't have identified them.

I remember her telling me she couldn't figure out what to do first -- call for help or try to push his brains back in his head. I remember how she begged the nurses at Sunrise to do something, do anything to save David, and all they could do is look back at her with tears in their eyes.

I remember that Rochelle and I had a lot in common. We were near the same age, we were both married, we lived close to each other, our husbands even looked a little bit alike. After I talked with her, I never left a door open again.

I remember a lot of things about Rochelle Kinnamon. I talked to Thomas Nevius briefly one time when I was up at Nevada State Prison for another story. He was upset that the warden had taken a woman through Death Row because he wasn't fully dressed.

He was also completely articulate, joking around, trading stories with his buddies.

It's time we stopped worrying about this con man's new con game and start thinking about the lives that were shattered because Thomas Nevius made a deliberate and conscious decision to shoot what Rochelle called "a big bear of a man" in the head.

I realize this commentary won't accomplish much in the grand scheme of things, and it certainly won't affect those who oppose the death penalty, but I wanted to write it anyway.

This is for you, Rochelle. I hope you're back with David now. I hope he's peeling the onions again.