Impact Statement Read at Sentencing of US v. Saddiq Al-Abbadi

The sentencing of senior terrorist leader Saddiq al-Abbadi in May 21, 2025 marked a significant conclusion to a legal process that sought to honor the memory of Spc. Christopher "Gator" Gathercole, who was killed in action on Memorial Day in 2008. The proceeding, overseen by Judge Nicholas G. Garaufis, served as a platform for the victim's family and fellow soldiers to express the profound and lasting impact of their loss.

Background and the Legacy of Christopher Gathercole

Early Life: Christopher and his brother Edward grew up as wards of the court in the foster care and group home system, facing a childhood marked by instability and violence.

Military Service: Despite these early trials, Christopher joined the Army with a desire to protect his country, eventually becoming an elite Ranger.

The Firefight: On May 26, 2008, Christopher was killed by a gunshot to the head during a courtyard firefight while clearing a compound in Afghanistan. He was 21 years old.

Presidential Recognition: In 2011, President Barack Obama recognized Christopher’s sacrifice during the Medal of Honor ceremony for his weapons squad leader, Leroy Petry. Petry ensured that Christopher’s memory was highlighted during the event.

Family and Fatherhood: Christopher was a devoted brother and son. Most poignantly, he was the father of a daughter born shortly before his final deployment; she is now 18 and never had the chance to meet her father.

The Sentencing: US v. Saddiq al-Abbadi (May 2025)

Legal Charges: The defendant faced four charges, each carrying a potential sentence of 30 years to life.

Outcome: Saddiq al-Abbadi received a concurrent sentence of time served (16 years) plus an additional 90 days. Following this, he will be released to supervised probation and is required to remain a cooperating witness with the government for the rest of his life.

Judicial Atmosphere: The hearing was conducted in a closed session due to national security matters and remained under seal. Judge Garaufis specifically highlighted Christopher’s history in foster care and his daughter's loss of her father during the proceedings.

Victim Agency: Because the defendant had already been cooperating with the government for over a decade, the sentencing served primarily as a rare opportunity for the family to exercise agency through their statements.

Impact Statement Highlights

Edward Gathercole (Brother): Drawing on the teachings of the Baha'i Faith, Edward emphasized justice as a means of achieving unity rather than revenge. He shared the personal toll of his brother's death, describing himself as "homeless in every sense of the word" without his brother's presence, while choosing to extend understanding and peace toward the defendant.

Jennifer Sund (Daly) (Sister): Jennifer reflected on the "profound absence" of the life she and Christopher should have shared, mourning the birthdays and holidays lost. She expressed that justice for her meant a life sentence, ensuring those responsible would never regain the freedom taken from her brother.

(Squad Leader): provided a harrowing account of the 2008 firefight, describing the moment Christopher fell and the haunting memories he carries. He detailed his struggle with survivor's guilt and the difficulty of processing the loss of his friend and soldier. 

Edward's full VIS read at the sentencing hearing May 21,2025

Your Honor,

My name is Edward Gathercole, and I stand before you today to speak on behalf of my beloved younger brother, Christopher Gathercole, who was tragically killed in action on Memorial Day, May 26th, 2008. Though we were only 18 months apart in age, Christopher entrusted me with the responsibility of handling his burial and affairs should he not return. He was just 21 years old when his life was cut short, and today, we face the painful reality that the man in this courtroom, Saddiq al-Abbadi, played a role in his death.

Abdu’l-Bahá, a central figure in the Baha’i Faith, once said, “war is destruction while universal peace is construction; war is death while peace is life; war is rapacity and bloodthirstiness while peace is beneficence and humaneness; war is an appurtenance of the world of nature while peace is of the foundation of the religion of God; war is darkness upon darkness while peace is heavenly light; war is the destroyer of the edifice of mankind while peace is the everlasting life of the world of humanity; war is like a devouring wolf while peace is like the angels of heaven; war is the struggle for existence while peace is mutual aid and cooperation among the peoples of the world…” I have come to understand this deeply—not just through the loss of my brother but through the broader toll of conflict on families, communities, and the human spirit. And yet, I also recognize that my brother chose to serve. His commitment was not to war itself, but to the ideals of duty and protection. In honoring his service, I do not glorify war, but rather the courage it takes to stand for what one believes in.

I can't fully express in words the impact this event has had on my life but I can tell you about Christopher and how I am able to stand before you today. Christopher and I endured a difficult childhood, growing up as wards of the court in the foster care and group home system. Despite our struggles, Christopher was a source of joy, love, and determination. He joined the military, compelled by a profound sense of duty, to better himself and a desire to protect his country. His sacrifice was recognized by President Barack Obama in 2011 during the Medal of Honor ceremony for Christopher’s weapons squad leader, Leroy Petry, who ensured that my brother’s memory was honored that day.

Christopher was more than a soldier; he was a faithful son, a devoted brother, a loyal friend, and, most heartbreakingly, a father. His daughter was born in 2008 before his final deployment—she never met him, never heard his voice, never felt his embrace. She can only come to know him through the memories of those who loved him.

Christopher's obituary was written by a former court-appointed special advocate who guided us through foster care, I paraphrase it in the following to capture his spirit.

"Born October 16, 1986 – Died May 26, 2008

Chris gave everything in service to humanity and to his country, but left us longing for more.

He entered the world with a radiant smile that lit up every room and heart it touched. A loving little boy and a mischievous teen, Chris and his brother Edward were inseparable—laughing, fearless, always chasing adventure. Life took a hard turn, and the brothers were separated in foster care, growing up on parallel paths until reuniting in 2002.

Chris’s journey was never easy—shifting homes, schools, and friendships. But through every trial, he grew. From a restless teen to a determined young man, Chris chose to rise. He earned his high school diploma, joined the Army, and through sheer will became an elite Ranger. He gave his all—to those he loved, to the world, and to the life he fought hard to shape. Chris was a self-made man, forged through adversity, anchored by heart.

The Global War on Terror has left an indelible mark on my life in ways I never imagined. Losing Christopher has been a source of profound grief, compounded by the hardships we faced in childhood. My brother was my anchor—my closest confidant, my hero and my home. His absence is a wound that time has yet to heal. I currently don't have stable housing, the idea of permanent housing is elusive to me aggravated by the loss of my brother who was my home. Without him I have less of a home, homeless in every sense of the word. I have very limited income for affordable housing due to permanent disabilities stemming from childhood and exacerbated by the impact of this event. I have slept on couches, floors, the outdoors, in vehicles, homeless shelters, and even the cemetery where I chose to have my brother buried. I don't have a traditional support system. I have weekly appointments since 2010 with a doctor in psychology who specializes in complex trauma. I nearly completed a suicide attempt at my brother's grave site. Later that same year in 2011 I would be surrounded by bewildering applause at the White House after our 44th president acknowledged Christopher's sacrifice. I'm still standing. I stand before this court because I draw on the spiritual strength of the Baha'i Faith, the significance of my brother's sacrifice, and the love and support from the community. I still live with survivors' guilt that it should have been me that perished, not my younger brother.

Yet, as I seek justice today, I do so not with hatred, but with a commitment to truth and accountability. Justice is not about revenge; it is about affirming the value of a life taken too soon. In my journey through grief, I have sought solace in the teachings of the Baha’i Faith, which call upon us to pursue justice with wisdom and to temper judgment with mercy.

The Baha’i Writings emphasize that justice must serve the greater purpose of unity: Baha'u'llah, the founder of the Baha'i Faith, wrote, “The purpose of justice is the appearance of unity among men.” True justice is not about punishment alone, but about ensuring that the pain inflicted by violence is acknowledged and that those responsible are held accountable in a way that upholds the dignity of all. Forgiveness is a path I continue to walk—not as a negation of justice, but as a commitment to peace within myself and with the world. I firmly believe that,“When a thought of war comes,” we must, “oppose it by a stronger thought of peace.” That is an example of the true spiritual practice of Jihad.

Saddiq al-Abbadi, as I stand here today, I want you to know this: Not all Americans nor their allies are infidels. My faith teaches me to recognize the divine in every soul, no matter their deeds. As a Baha’i, I bear witness that, “there is no god but God, and Muhammad is the messenger of God.” I accept the beauty and wisdom of Islam and the truth of its holy book the Quran, as I do all faiths that emanate from the source of the Supreme Being who is eternal in the past, eternal in the future. My brother’s death has given me the opportunity to share this with you—to extend not hatred, but understanding. May Allah be pleased with you. May you attain peace. And may you know that even in this courtroom, an enemy can choose love over vengeance. To destroy thoughts of war and vengeance in my own heart and mind I often reflect on the truth that, “A thought of hatred must be destroyed by a more powerful thought of love.”

Living with the grief of losing Christopher, alongside the trials of our past, has been an immense challenge. Our childhood exposed us to violence, neglect, and instability, but my brother’s presence was a constant source of hope. His death left a void that can never be filled, but I strive to carry forward his legacy of resilience and compassion, his love and forgiveness. “The source of courage and power is the promotion of the Word of God, and steadfastness in His Love.”

Your Honor, as you prepare to issue sentencing, I ask that you consider the profound impact of Christopher’s loss—not just on our family, but on the countless others affected by this senseless violence. His life was a testament to overcoming profound difficulties, to service and sacrifice, and his death must not be reduced to just another casualty of The United States of America's longest war. I seek justice, not to perpetuate the cycle of violence, but to affirm that every life taken unjustly deserves to be remembered and honored.

Thank you for allowing me to share my brother’s story and the impact losing him has had on my life.



Sincerely,
Edward Gathercole