Family seeking answers, closure

Police have little to go on in woman's hit-and-run death

Jayda Stambaugh drove as far as she could on the flat tire before the rubber wore down to the rim. In the dark of night on Nov. 28, she limped her Ford sedan into the lot of a shuttered North Charleston muffler shop and called 911 for help.

It was late. She'd been bartending and just wanted to get home to her Greenridge Road apartment.

Time passed. Jayda grew frustrated waiting for police. She phoned her younger sister, Monica. I'm going to leave the car and walk the final leg home, Jayda explained.

Monica stayed on the line as her sister set off on foot. "I'm almost home," Jayda announced some time later. "I see the Arby's sign."

Suddenly, Jayda screamed.

The line went dead.

Monica dialed her sister's cell phone number over and over. The calls went straight to voice mail. What had happened to Jayda?

North Charleston police found her lying unconscious in the road about 4:30 a.m. Jayda had been struck by a car that then sped off, leaving her crumpled in the road with a head injury, a broken leg, a broken arm, cuts and bruises. She was rushed to an area hospital in critical condition. Authorities didn't expect her to live through the night.

But 21-year-old Jayda surprised her doctors. She rallied, regained consciousness, seemed on the mend. Then, 11 days after the hit-and-run, she suddenly lapsed into a coma after complaining of a headache. She died the next day, apparently from undetected bleeding on her brain, her mother, Jewel Harris, said.

Jayda couldn't recall details of the incident before her death. Evidence left at the scene suggests that the vehicle that hit Jayda was black and that it lost its driver's side mirror in the impact. Beyond that, investigators have little to go on, police spokesman Spencer Pryor said.

Jayda's husband, Kevin Stambaugh Jr., is a petty officer third class in the Navy. In the coming weeks, he must return to the aircraft carrier Harry Truman, which is deployed to the Persian Gulf. He hopes to see an arrest in his wife's death before he leaves.

"I can understand if someone has an accident," he said, gritting his teeth. "But you don't just drive off and leave someone like that."

Jayda and her husband had been married just 14 months. They crossed paths in June 2006 while he was assigned to the Charleston Naval Weapons Station for training. They met at Hooters, where she was a waitress. She was pretty, sweet and funny and shared his love of R&B music and Michigan football. A first date at Frankie's Fun Park led to a whirlwind courtship and marriage four months later.

When Stambaugh was deployed to the Gulf in November, they decided Jayda would stay with her family in Summerville. Upon his return in June, they would move to Norfolk, Va., where the Truman is based. In the meantime, she continued to work as a receptionist at a Jedburg heating and air company. To pass time, she also picked up a bartending job at a club on Ashley Phosphate Road.

Kevin was at sea in the Mediterranean when he received word of Jayda's injuries. He spent two days traveling to get home, constantly checking on his bride, who lay in intensive care at Medical University Hospital.

"Kevin called a lot," Harris said. "Sometimes, when we didn't have an update for him, he would just sit on the phone and listen."

As the days passed, Jayda improved. She woke and conversed with her family. Through the pain and injuries, she showed signs of her old self. Her family's hopes soared when doctors announced she would be moved to HealthSouth, a rehabilitation hospital in North Charleston. It seemed she was out of the woods, Harris said.

Jayda had trouble remembering things and often was confused. She thought she was in Germany at times and complained of the strange-tasting European water. She told her mother that she had trouble distinguishing her dreams from reality. But the doctors explained that a bad head injury could cause such side effects, Harris said.

"She was confused, but she was laughing and joking," she said. "She was herself."

Stambaugh and Harris began to celebrate. "I was thinking, 'She'll be home in a couple of weeks and then I'll be able to take care of her," Stambaugh said.

Jayda called her mother at about 6 in the morning on Dec. 9. "She told me the doctors there were done with her. I said 'Are you sure?' She said 'Oh yeah.' "

When Harris asked to speak with Jayda's nurse, Jayda complained of a bad headache and said she was going to take a nap. The staff called Harris about four hours later and told her that Jayda had passed out and needed to be moved to another hospital.

As the day wore on, Jayda slipped into a coma. Doctors discovered bleeding on her brain that had gone undetected, Harris said. Her condition worsened. She died the next day.

The Charleston County Coroner's Office said Jayda died from complications from injuries she received in the hit-and-run. They declined to comment further because the case remains under investigation.

Stambaugh and Jayda's family remain in shock at her sudden passing and angry that no one has been held accountable for the hit-and-run that led to her death.

Harris said she went days without sleeping before taking medication to get some rest. The Christmas tree the family put up after Thanksgiving sits unlit and ignored. No one feels like celebrating.

Harris and Stambaugh also have been frustrated by the lack of information they've received from police. Stambaugh said he'd had trouble getting investigators to return his phone calls.

Pryor said police had not contacted the family recently because there was no new information to pass on. After learning of the family's concerns, police quickly called Stambaugh on Friday to update him on the case.

Harris said she just wants justice for her eldest daughter. She hopes the driver responsible for the hit-and-run will surrender, accept responsibility and display a conscience, she said.

"I can understand someone being afraid and driving off, but afterward, just show you have some compassion ... something," she said. "In order for Jayda to rest in peace, she needs to have some closure."

Reach Glenn Smith at 937-5556 or gsmith@postandcourier.com.