Struggling to Not Let Violence Win

The banner outside the jewelry store reads, “Same Ownership. Same Quality Merchandise.”

Sounds like a standard business reopening, but it’s not. No banner could tell the whole story of why the Jewel Garden in Lake Forest is gearing up again after it shut down in a hail of bullets on the morning of July 30.

On that day four months ago, shop owner Michel Sleiman, a Lebanese immigrant known as “Mike,” greeted two men at the counter. His wife, Nouhad, sat in a chair a few feet behind him. In the next few moments, a robbery attempt turned to murder. Nouhad Sleiman was shot in the chest as she sat. When she fled to a small bathroom in the back of the store, one of the gunmen followed and killed her with shots to the head.

Out front, Mike Sleiman, 54, struggled for his life. But Sleiman was shot once in his backside, twice in the face, and once in the forehead. Left for dead, he staggered to the phone and dialed 911. His blood dripped on the showcase counter as he waited for police.

Less than 30 minutes earlier, he’d been on the phone with Antoine Dahdah, a cousin who is also in the jewelry business. So when Dahdah got a subsequent phone call about a shooting at Mike’s place, he could hardly believe it.

Hospital reality, in the form of tubes and machines hooked up to his cousin, greeted Dahdah. “I kind of gave up at that time,” he says.

Doctors did not. They opened Sleiman’s skull and operated on his face and mouth. He stayed in a coma for six weeks but survived.

Even as Sleiman lay comatose, relatives debated about reopening the shop.

They concluded that Sleiman needed the revenue to pay his bills. With that decided, Dahdah gave up a lucrative job to manage the store. Sleiman, unable to work and with the loss of sight in one eye and needing a walker to get around, would remain the owner.

Sitting in his cousin’s jewelry shop this week, I ask Dahdah, 37, if the decision to reopen went beyond Sleiman’s financial needs.

“They came from Lebanon about 14 years ago,” he says. “They started from scratch, from zero. They started in a little apartment with the whole family [three children]. Mike worked long hours. He started in the industry as an employee and from there he opened his own store.”

Dahdah is skeptical that the suspects, facing preliminary hearings next month, will get their just deserts. “If these guys knew the store was going to close forever,” he says, “they would have the satisfaction, somehow. It would mean they won. I don’t want anyone to feel they can stop Mike. No, they cannot stop Mike.”

There’s no pretending the store doesn’t contain lingering memories for Dahdah. Stepping into the bathroom where Nouhad died can trigger sadness. A bullet hole remains in the carpet. One night, Dahdah looked back toward a small window above the chair in which Nouhad was shot. A flower on the desk reflected in the window, “and I felt her call my name,” Dahdah says. “I had to get out of there. I shut the vacuum off, set the alarm and went home.”

The grand opening was last weekend. Business has been slow. Dahdah, however, sees signs of renewal.

“I thought all the customers who had come before wouldn’t come back [because of the murder] and that I would have brand new customers. But guess what? Customers are coming back.”

Some bring cards, some flowers. Some have cried in the store.

Slowly, they are bringing the store back to life with mementos from the heart.

Like the customer who awaited Dahdah’s arrival one morning this week. “Do you know how long I’ve been waiting?” he asked, showing various items that needed repair.

No, how long, Dahdah replied.

“Since the robbery,” the man said. “I wanted to wait and give you my business.”

Dana Parsons’ column appears Wednesday, Friday and Sunday. Readers may reach Parsons by calling (714) 966-7821 or by writing to him at the Times Orange County Edition, 1375 Sunflower Ave., Costa Mesa, CA 92626, or by e-mail to dana.parsons@latimes.com