SACRAMENTO, Calif. _ Max Benson found a large rock in his front yard and decided to slowly hammer a pin hole all the way through it, chiseling slowly and carefully.
At 13 years old, Max loved rocks so much that after he died, hundreds of people from around the world sent his mother rocks in his memory. Stacia Langley built a shrine out of those gifts in remembrance of Max _ many of them painted with heartfelt messages mourning the loss of her son.
Max died after being restrained at an El Dorado Hills non-public school for special needs children in November 2018. He was restrained face-down by school staff for one hour and 45 minutes, according to court documents, and died a day later at UC Davis Medical Center. Guiding Hands School was under investigation by state and El Dorado County officials in connection with the death when it closed in January.
For Stacia Langley, the past year has been what she describes as the worst year of her life.
"I haven't done much except just cry," she said.
Max grew up in Davis and started his education at a nearby public school, Birch Lane Elementary. His family called those two years a wonderful experience _ he had autism, but required no aid and very few services from his teachers. Max later began attending Sacramento's Sierra School before he enrolled at Guiding Hands in the fall of 2018, and spent only a few months there before he died.
"He was very knowledgeable about how the world worked," said Chuck Langley, Max's grandfather. "I am totally sure he scoped out his new school completely."
On Tuesday, El Dorado County prosecutors formally filed involuntary manslaughter charges against administrators and a teacher at Guiding Hands, El Dorado County District Attorney's officials said Tuesday.
Three staffers at the school � school site administrator Cindy Keller, Guiding Hands principal Staranne Meyers and Kimberly Wohlwand, the teacher accused of being among those who restrained Max � will be arraigned Wednesday in El Dorado Superior Court in Placerville. A separate civil lawsuit filed against Guiding Hands also alleges Wohlwand restrained the young Benson with the help of other teachers.
District Attorney's officials on Tuesday said attorneys for the three were cooperating with prosecutors and that Keller, Meyers and Wohlwand will appear at the afternoon hearing.
Max and his twin brother, Quinn, were born in October 2005. A third brother, Kai, is 11 months older. While the three were very close in age, it became evident early on that Max needed more attention than his brothers.
Shortly after Max was born, doctors told Stacia Langley that her son wouldn't be able to walk, and that he would need to endure hours of physical therapy. But Max learned to walk because he was determined, she said, a trait that remained with him throughout his childhood.
"He had a big personality," Stacia Langley said. "He was full of life, he was funny, he was all the things you want your kid to be."
Chuck Langley helped put Max to bed every night for the last six years. Max often slept at his grandparents' home _ about a mile away from Stacia Langley. The tight knit family spent weeknights together and explored the outdoors every weekend. The boys grew up playing and hiking at Putah Creek, a place that Stacia Langley fondly referred to as her church.
Chuck Langley's neighbors called Max "The Mayor." He was intelligent and articulate, and he could talk your ear off and relay facts with a college vocabulary, his mother said.
"We had an agreement with the neighbors that he could start shooting baskets at 7 a.m.," Chuck Langley said. Max would play basketball for hours.
Max befriended his school bus drivers, including the one who drove him to Guiding Hands. He always sat in the front seat during the long commute from Yolo County to El Dorado Hills, discussing music and cars.
His energy was infectious. Without Max, Stacia Langley said, the family struggles to sustain that energy.
This year, Quinn celebrated his first birthday without his twin. The family had cake, and tried to make it celebratory, but Stacia Langley acknowledged how difficult that was.
"When I think about what he's lost, I just can't even imagine it," she said of Quinn. "Being together with someone before you are even born ... he's very quiet about it."
Kai, in high school now, plowed through summer school and worked constantly.
"I knew that he was using (school) to distract himself," their mother said.
Like their mother, the boys have struggled to cope with Max's sudden death. The regular family trips to Putah Creek have come to an abrupt end; they would be too painful of a reminder of Max and his love for nature.
Chuck Langley now looks after Max's pets: two pythons, two geckos, two dogs and a bearded dragon.
"It's been very difficult to see them grow," Stacia Langley said. The pine tree that Max planted from a seed in his grandparents' backyard is now taller than he was. It pains his mother to think of all of the experiences her son was robbed of, including his first kiss and a PhD that she was confident he would have earned in adulthood.
Max was intelligent; he loved dinosaurs, fossils, seeds, cars, rocks _ especially rocks. Stacia Langley bought Max a large, prehistoric megalodon shark tooth that now sits on an end table in Chuck Langley's home. But most keepsakes are tucked away in their home. Remembering Max is important, but the pain of losing him is unbearable for the family.
It's been nearly a year since Max died. Stacia Langley recalls being home and hearing the phone ring on Tuesday, Nov. 27. It was a call from Max's school. They weren't able to get him on the bus. The information she was receiving wasn't clear, she said, but she knew something was wrong.
Court records would later show that although Max was unresponsive and had gone into cardiac arrest, school officials did not assess his condition and they intended to place him on a school van to send him home.
But school officials had called 911, and several news outlets reported he was a 6-foot tall, 280-pound student with severe autism.
"People get the wrong idea about autism and what it means," Stacia Langley said. In reality, Max was 5 feet 3 inches tall and only had social delays.
While restrained by school employees for allegedly spitting at a classmate, Max had vomited and urinated on himself and was never relieved from his face down position. He was unconscious before he left school in an ambulance, according to court documents.
Attorneys for the school at the time said de-escalation techniques are sometimes necessary to ensure the safety and security of students, staff and teachers, according to a statement in January.
Stacia Langley ran out of the house so quickly that she said she doesn't remember her two sons' expressions when they learned something was wrong with their brother. She called her mother to watch the boys and drove from her Davis home to a Folsom hospital where Max was first taken. When Stacia Langley arrived at the hospital, Max was still unresponsive and was sent to UC Davis Medical Center, where he was declared brain dead, according to court records. He died the following day.
Stacia Langley was alone with Max when he died. She asked her father to head home to support Kai and Quinn. She lay down with her 13-year-old son in his hospital bed until he passed away.
"I just needed to smell him, and hold him," she said.
Now, every time the phone rings, it reminds the family of that day. Quinn expects phone calls to bring bad news, and still asks if something is wrong when someone calls.
Stacia Langley's focus has been on Kai and Quinn. Their strength has been instrumental in her grief and healing process.
"They are remarkably strong," she said. "I see so much of him in them."
Chuck Langley said his family has held together very well since losing Max and they wish to focus more of their energy on ensuring that a death like this never happens again.
Newsom signs student protection law
Prone restraints are used in California schools, often on students with special needs, but legislation has passed since Max's death. Gov. Gavin Newsom signed a bill in October that would protect students with special needs at non-public California schools, allowing the state Department of Education to suspend or revoke a school's certification if a student's health or safety is being compromised.
And a new law went into effect at the start of 2019 that prohibits restraining and secluding students as discipline, convenience or retaliation. Former Gov. Jerry Brown signed it months before Max died.
"We are very aware of the shortcomings and challenges in raising a kid (with autism), for the kid himself in society," Chuck Langley said. "Whatever we can do to keep this from happening again, that's what motivates us to keep going in moments when emotions are melting away."
Stacia Langley said that protecting other people from experiencing a tragedy like this one was one of her first thoughts after Max died. Today, she thinks back to all the things Max will never be able to give to the world.
Chuck Langley quickly interjects, "He has already given so much."
Stacia Langley agrees.
"Max would want to protect other kids," she said. "He wanted to be a hero. He's finally going to be a hero."
