Officer Miraculously Comes Back From Brain Death After Shooting
PHOENIX, Ariz. - The day after he was shot by a drug user in a domestic fight turned shooting gallery, police Officer Don Mauldin was brain dead.
Knowing that "cops don't want to drag on," his wife reluctantly gave the doctors permission to remove life-support systems. She cried hard, prayed harder, then waited for the end.
Nine days later, Mauldin coughed and woke up.
Family, friends and doctors are astounded by the recovery of the 19-year law-enforcement veteran.
Although a painful, frustrating rehabilitation lies ahead, Mauldin, 51, has regained his speech and limited movement of his hands, legs and toes.
Doctors say he is within reach of a goal a friend set for Mauldin soon after the Dec. 11 shooting: to walk out of St. Joseph's Hospital and Medical Center on his own feet.
That goal was set by Sgt. Joe Martinez, 32, Mauldin's supervisor at the Pinal County Sheriff's Department.
Every day since the shooting, Martinez has driven from Apache Junction to Phoenix to visit his stricken colleague, spending hours massaging and working Mauldin's muscles to stave off atrophy. He and Mauldin's wife, Maggie, have checked on long-term-care centers available when Mauldin eventually is released from Barrow Neurological Institute, and he even has gone head-to-head with insurance companies.
For Martinez, Mauldin is part mentor, part friend. His dedication demonstrates the special bond between law-enforcement officers, forged by fighting a common battle.
Martinez blames himself for Mauldin's injuries, even though Martinez was off the day of the shooting.
He made his fallen brother in arms a solemn vow: "I promise you, Don, I know that you and I will walk out of here together."
Three months after the shooting, Martinez has few doubts the vow will be fulfilled.
"He's going to do it, I just know it," Martinez said.
WIFE KEPT UP HER HOPE
Maggie Mauldin, 33, didn't want to give up hope, either, although she had every right to.
"They (doctors) told me, `He's going to die in a few hours,' " she said, referring to the decision to end life support. "I thought, `Please, Don, don't leave me to raise these kids.' "
She cried a lot and prayed even more.
"I believe God knows these children need him," she said, referring to the couple's two young sons.
Maggie and Martinez were among those gathered around Don's bed Dec. 21, four days before Christmas.
"Don coughed, and his eyes flew open," Maggie recalled. "He looked at me, and he looked at Shane (Don's son from a previous marriage), and there was recognition there."
Martinez's heart leapt.
"When he opened his eyes, many of us were standing around the bed. We were all crying," he said.
"He grabbed my hand."
Martinez said even the doctors wept over the "Christmas miracle."
"I think each of them knows it's something beyond their hands," Maggie said.
Don Mauldin doesn't have any answers, either.
"I guess it just wasn't my time," he said. "I don't know why."
After the shooting, Maggie was deluged with cards, letters and phone calls from well-wishers throughout the state, many from people she has never met.
Many were police officers Don Mauldin had trained as rookies during his tenure with Pinal County, the South Tucson Police Department, the Gila County Sheriff's Office and several agencies in Texas.
Mauldin, who lived for the thrill of police work, tempered his enthusiasm with a knack for sensing impending trouble. He always seemed younger than his age, Martinez said, and his colorful manner and earthy sense of humor made him impossible not to like. A true Texan, Mauldin never lost his smooth drawl.
Martinez said Pinal County deputies were stunned by the shooting, not only because a respected colleague had been injured but also because it was the first time one of their own had been shot during a call.
When a group of nine officers from the Apache Junction substation recently visited Don at the hospital, the visitors benefited as much as the patient.
"You just think if a guy like Don gets it, it makes you wonder if we're all bought and paid for," Martinez said.
But the deputies were relieved to see Don perk up during their visit, and Don was relieved he hadn't been forgotten.
"I could see a glow on his face," Martinez said. "It was like nothing had happened for a while."
The truth, of course, is that something - something devastating - has happened.
Every day, Maggie Mauldin takes a two-hour lunch break to attend her husband's therapy sessions at Barrow.
Don Mauldin grimaces as therapists make him stand, with the help of braces, in hopes of eventually regaining his ability to walk.
"If you don't have that will, you just lie there," Maggie said. "He's got that will."
Although she becomes depressed and discouraged by her husband's slow progress, she knows his fate could have been far worse.
Dr. Candyce Williams, a physical medicine and rehabilitation specialist at Barrow, said it takes most brain-injury patients about two years to recover.
"He's made a remarkable recovery, given the circumstances that were presented," she said. "The doctors who operated on him did not expect him to live."
Williams said it is premature to gauge Don's potential quality of life.
"If you look at where he's at now, with some assistance, he will be able to walk," she said.
CAREER IS OVER
However, she doubts Don ever will be able to live independently again, and she's certain his law-enforcement career is over.
The violent end of that solid career came when authorities were called the afternoon of Dec. 11 to a domestic quarrel in Apache Junction.
Don Mauldin was the first officer through the door of the home, occupied by Larry DeYoung, 30, a paroled murderer and suspected methamphetamine dealer.
Behind Mauldin was Cpl. Calvin Hess, who heard a shot and saw Mauldin collapse in front of him.
A second shot nearly killed Hess, but he was saved when the slug glanced off his protective eyeglasses, shattering his cheekbone. Hess had picked up his new glasses at an optometrist's office three hours earlier.
"I very likely would not be talking to you today if I hadn't picked up those glasses that day," he said.
USING METHAMPHETAMINE
The bullets started flying after Christina Alexander, DeYoung's wife, told deputies he had punched and kicked her, pointed a gun at her head and threatened to kill her. She also said he had been doing methamphetamine.
According to an Apache Junction police report, DeYoung's prodigious consumption of methamphetamine had made him increasingly paranoid, and he bragged to friends that he was the east Valley's biggest speed dealer.
DeYoung also threatened to kill any lawman who showed up at the house, telling Alexander, "There's going to be blood shed, and it is not going to be mine."
Deputies opened fire on DeYoung after he shot Mauldin and Hess. Despite being hit three or four times, DeYoung survived and is to stand trial for attempted murder March 29 in Pinal County Superior Court.
Hess, 40, who has been promoted to sergeant, is scheduled to return to work soon. His vision was saved and is expected to return to normal.
"I'm not sure how much of it is coincidence or luck and how much of it is intentional intervention" by a divine source, Hess said.
Despite the shooting, Hess, an 11-year veteran, is eager to return to work.
"I'm sure it will have some effect, but this is not the first time in my life that someone's tried to kill me," he said.
"You know, I've been doing this a long time, and sometimes you have to accept there are things that are going to happen."