Anger Lingers After Texas Boy's Death

Genaro, left, and Norma Lechuga stand with their son Narito beside the grave of their son Carlitos. The parents say emergency workers were discriminatory and accused them of abuse when Carlitos was ill. The child died from a brain aneurysm.

Genaro Lechuga holds his son by Carlitos' grave. The parents spent much of their $93,000 compensation check to have Carlitos' remains moved to Bluebonnet Hills Memorial Park in Colleyville.

Genaro Lechuga hangs his sunglasses -- the ones Carlitos loved to wear -- on the metal vase with the white roses attached to the mausoleum wall.

His wife, Norma Lechuga, weeps as she runs a finger along her 2-year-old's name. His brown eyes smile from the photograph set in the marker.

Carlitos often speaks to her, she says. "Pudieron salvar mi vida pero no lo hicieron."

"They could have saved my life, but they didn't," he tells her.

Two to three times a week for the past year, the Lechugas have visited the marble crypt that holds their youngest child's remains. The familiar grounds comfort Genaro Lechuga.

Sometimes, the family brings toys and balloons to the spot at Bluebonnet Hills Memorial Park in Colleyville, arranging them around a bench that also bears his name.

Carlitos died April 20, 2004, three days after he collapsed from a brain aneurysm. The horror of those days has not faded.

In the first hours, as the Lechugas struggled to get help, Watauga emergency workers treated them like criminals who had deliberately injured their son, the couple said.

The family believes that discrimination prompted the workers to accuse them of abuse rather than administer the care that might have saved Carlitos, or at least allowed them to comfort him while he was still conscious.

The city has not acknowledged fault in the case. City officials, including several City Council members, and the emergency workers have declined requests for interviews. The only comment has come from City Attorney Mark Daniel, who said the workers acted appropriately.

In March, the family received a $93,000 check from the city's insurance pool. They spent much of it to adorn Carlitos' grave.

"We don't care about the money," said Genaro Lechuga, 37. "We want them to know they should treat us all the same -- like brothers, not animals."

"Tati," as Carlitos was sometimes called, loved his toy cars. He often fell asleep with them clenched in his tiny fists.

He also loved to work alongside his papi, as he was doing the afternoon of April 17, 2004.

Carlitos jumped in to help his mother, father and 3-year-old brother, Narito, haul sand from the family's truck. The Lechugas were landscaping their neat, one-story frame house in Watauga.

"He saw his brother helping me shovel out sand to work on the back yard, and he wanted to help, too," Genaro Lechuga recalled.

Carlitos was at his father's side in the pickup bed when he suddenly collapsed. The child struggled to get up, then screamed.

His father picked him up and handed him to his mother. Carlitos must have bumped a knee, Genaro Lechuga thought.

Norma Lechuga carried her son inside and tried to console him. Seconds later, she rushed back outside. He had begun to vomit and to lose control of his bodily functions.

Genaro Lechuga ran to call 911. Minutes later, Watauga paramedics David Werchan and Randy Barkley and emergency medical technician David Martinez arrived.

Werchan and Barkley questioned the Lechugas through a neighbor, who was translating, Genaro Lechuga said. Lechuga was too distraught to rely on his English.

Because the city won't discuss the case with them, they said, the Lechugas are left to draw their own conclusions as to what went wrong.

"I guess they saw we were Hispanics and didn't attend to my son because they turned their investigations to us," Genaro Lechuga said.

Rather than immediately checking the child's vital signs, the medics repeatedly asked who had hit him, the Lechugas said.