Victim Impact Statement of
Jeanne Pepper (victim’s mother)
For use in Court: November 15, 2024
Your Honor,
I am finally allowed to speak today about the senseless murder of my son Blaze Bernstein and how it affected me and my family.
The last time I saw my precious son was almost seven years ago when he came home for the holidays in December of 2017. Blaze finished his finals and quickly moved into his brand-new apartment in Philadelphia on December 18th. He only had a couple of days to finish moving in before he left to come home to California for the holidays. He was so excited to see us and spend time together that he left that brand new sunny apartment and all of the excitement of putting it together to come home to us. Blaze was thrilled to have his first apartment to himself and his earlier academic semester in school had been a good one. He was looking forward to a psychology class in the new year with famed psychology professor Adam Grant. Blaze took the editor position at the Penn Appetite magazine and expectantly was preparing for their first issue of the new year. We were so proud of and excited for this kid. The first child and grandchild on either side of our family to go to an Ivy League school, a brilliant scientist, an incredible chef, and writer, creative, kind, fun and delightfully Blaze with all of his idiosyncrasies, bold sense of humor and unique eclectic style. He was handsome, well liked, accomplished, loved and good at everything he tried – the anthesis of the man that would murder him.
Before that fateful night, we had lots of fun with our family celebrating Hanukkah, game nights with friends, celebrating New Year's Eve together and New Year's Day. Then on January 2nd, 2018, Blaze made an amazing meal for our family to make up for the missed Thanksgiving dinner with him that year, and he made a traditional Turkey dinner for us from scratch. We had so much fun going out to lunch that day and then shopping at Costco for the ingredients he needed. He went to work that afternoon cooking up a storm and feeding all of us the most amazing holiday meal I can remember having at home.
We learned in this court room, that the night of January 2nd after that fantastic meal with family and after we had gone to sleep, the cold blooded killer who sits here in this courtroom, drove to my house with a headlamp, shovel, knives, an Atomwaffen mask, and a sleeping bag pretending to be an old acquaintance of Blaze’s from school who wanted to catch up with him after matching with him on a dating website where he was “hunting” for a gay and hopefully Jewish young man to kill. It took him six months, but he finally lured Blaze out that night and took him to the park by our home. Blaze was only a few days away from returning to school. We had some last-minute-appointments left, he was packing and preparing to return to Philadelphia a few days later.
I was supposed to go to a dental appointment with Blaze the next day on Wednesday January 3rd, I let Blaze sleep in that morning and left that morning not knowing his body was already cold in the ground. I could not get a hold of him that day, so I kept calling and texting him trying to figure out if we were meeting for lunch first or just driving together to the appointment. He never returned my messages, so I left without him. Imagine my fear when I sat down for my dental appointment that afternoon not knowing where Blaze was and then receiving a phone call from my housekeeper as I was leaving who told to me Blaze never slept in his bed that night. I hysterically called my husband Gideon at work and told him what I knew. We both raced home hoping for the best to figure out what was going on.
After tapping into Blaze’s social media, we figured out who Blaze met up with that night – we contacted his killer, hopeful that he could give us insight into where Blaze might be. This calm and earnest sounding young man lied to us, the emphatic parents of the young man he had less than 24 hours before stabbed 28 times with a six-inch blade and buried in a park by our home. He misled us to believe that Blaze had wandered off into a dark and vast park by our home that leads into the wilderness behind our house. That night we filed a police report and law enforcement told us that searches would begin in the morning at the park. I will never forget spending the night in my 14-year-old daughter’s bed with her trying to keep her calm and telling her I felt hopeful we would find him the next day and with mother’s intuition knowing that we would probably never see him again.
As the search began the next day, tremendous law enforcement and personal resources came to our aid to search the forest, the park and the internet for clues. His killer also showed up that day at the park and then went home to clean his car of any evidence while unknowingly surveilled by law enforcement. In the meantime, we worked tirelessly with our friends, law enforcement, and private investigators to find our son. During that search we learned that his killer was a member of an extremist group by the name of Atomwaffen and we found pictures of Woodward curb stomping Jews, posing with guns in an Atomwaffen mask, and other social media displaying propaganda and hate speech. I knew Blaze was in trouble. I was so scared, thinking about my child injured, lost in the woods or being held hostage by an extremist neo-Nazi group.
Then we got the phone call on January 10th – my father’s birthday, that they found my son’s body in the mud in the park. It rained the night before and uncovered his lifeless body and his broken cell phone.
One of the hardest things after learning of my son’s disappearance was calling my parents and my husband’s parents to tell them that Blaze was missing and then I had to call them again a few days later to tell them that they had found his body. I dreaded making those calls so much because I knew how much the news would devastate them. Then I had to go to a cemetery with a broken heart and choose a grave for my 19-year-old son. I couldn’t believe this was real – I should have been helping Blaze finish packing to return to school or making some last-minute treats. How could this be happening? No mother should have to bury her child.
My beautiful happy 19-year-old would now be a rotting corpse in a grave never to dance, laugh, cook, or create. My heart was so broken and yet unable to accept the reality that he was no longer part of our world. I was not told the details of how he was killed because I was having trouble coping with the reality of his death. I will never forget hearing for the first time that Blaze had been stabbed 28 times while I was listening to the news while I was in the park where his body was found. I collapsed on the ground screaming. That was one of many panic attacks I would have that first year.
The pain of burying my son, having to go to Philadelphia to empty out his beautiful new apartment with his siblings, give away everything he owned there including his new furniture, appliances and school supplies is even hard to think about now. Seeing how beautiful and bright that apartment was made us think about how great it would have been to visit him there for the first time. That would never happen.
To lose my first-born child, my dream for the future, my partner in fun is the single worst most painful thing that has ever happened to me. To know that he died in such a horrific horrible way – stabbed to death by someone claiming to be a classmate from high school. Stabbed in the face – stabbed in his kind blue eyes that could see things most can’t see. Stabbed in his warm hands that penned beautiful poems and stories, held my hand as a boy and created so many wonderful things. Stabbed in the neck from where his beautiful singing voice poured. To die looking at an Atomwaffen mask as the blood drains from horrendous painful knife wounds and eventually your heart stops while knowing you were 3 days away from returning to school and a life you loved. Knowing how this would affect your family and friends. This is the vision that I see when I think of his final moments. It horrifies me so much I used to have panic attacks just thinking about it. Sleepless nights. Days of just sitting thinking about him, his terror and how much he was missing out on. I wonder if this gives Sam Woodward joy to know how much he hurt me and everyone else that loved Blaze.
For six years, we waited patiently without drawing too much attention in local news to what happened to our son so that Woodward who murdered my son so unfairly could have a fair trial. We put our lives on hold including a cancer surgery I needed. My own health suffered tremendously under the strain of the criminal proceedings and the loss of my boy. We put off so many things like vacations and our own healthcare so that we wouldn’t interfere with the trial going forward as quickly as possible. That alone was a punishment we didn’t deserve. The protracted search for Blaze and then the expensive lengthy criminal proceedings could have been a quickly resolved if Sam had told the truth right away instead of waiting so long and causing so many delays. Anyone with a stitch of remorse would have admitted the truth in the beginning, but there doesn’t appear to be any of that in this monster.
When the trial finally began in March, I had to look at my son’s murderer and sit in a room with him for the first time and I had to be in this courtroom for months. Sometimes, I would also have to sit there with his parents and listen to them testify about their homelife where they made fun of gay people and gave their son with a history of odd behavior and violence, testosterone supplements and knives. I had to listen to terrible untrue things said about my son while the defendant lied to paint himself as a victim of sexual assault to somehow excuse the planned murder of my gay and Jewish son. I had to leave the courtroom when the jury pictures of my son’s corpse. There were also pictures of Sam’s penis shown to the jury because somehow that was relevant to why my son was murdered by an active member of an extremist hate group. I had to listen to months of questioning and then weeks of the defendant’s lies about Blaze – as if murdering him wasn’t enough – he then waited until the public defender’s opening statement for us to learn for the first time that he admitted to murdering my son and then we had to listen to all of the excuses he and his attorney could make up to confuse the jury and the issues.
My kind and hardworking son, Blaze, didn’t get to see the published first issue of Penn Appetit that he designed, didn’t get to finish decorating or even live in his first apartment, didn’t get to come out loud and proud as a member of the LGBTQAI+ community, didn’t get to finish school at UPENN, and didn’t get to see his siblings graduate from high school and college. He didn’t get to go to medical school or work at his first job as a professional or see the excitement when his sister got into UPENN. He missed everything and he will miss out on the ivy league education and beautiful life he planned and worked so hard to have. We do not get to see him grow up or carry out all of the incredible things he wanted to do. We are still so proud of him and everything he was able to accomplish in his 19 years. He accomplished more than most people do in a full life and for this I am grateful.
Let’s be clear this was a hate crime - Sam Woodward ended my son’s life because my son was Jewish and gay. He wanted to be the big man in Atomwaffen and make his mentors and colleagues proud. Afterwards he tried to conceal the crime and did his best to postpone justice for over six years.
I never thought I would smile again or be happy again, but I stand here today relieved and happy that this sociopath will never live in Orange County again or murder anyone else’s children. He may have stolen Blaze from the world, but he will never diminish our joy in knowing that while Atomwaffen is no more - Blazeitforward has over 32,000 followers who do kind acts in honor of Blaze’s legacy of helping others. That’s right, while Sam rots in prison, we will be here on the outside celebrating the life of Blaze and continuing to do good with others who work every day to make this world more caring, kind and safe for the Jewish and LGBTQAI+ communities. We created the Blaze it Forward Facebook group to continue Blaze’s legacy of kindness and to perpetuate his loving memory. Blaze’s memory and spirit will live on in every kind deed done in his honor.
Blaze, we did the best we could for you. We figured out who did this. We brought him to justice. We saw justice carried out. We kept this world safer. We also continue to make this world a better place in your honor and for that we are grateful. We love you our sweet boy and will miss you always. I will leave this court room today knowing that Justice has been served and that the good in this world has won the day. This will be the only thing that makes the pain of your death bearable. We will never forget you, and kindness will continue in your name for as long as we live.
