During a 90-minute interview at an Italian caf�, Bridgette Bennett takes two sips — at best — of her coffee and lets the rest run cold.
Consumed by bitterness and sadness over the death of her 3-year-old niece, Porchia Bennett, and the severe abuse suffered by the toddler’s three sisters, Bridgette is having a hard time functioning these days.
Two people were charged last month with the unspeakable crimes: Bridgette Bennett’s 18-year-old sister, Candice Geiger, and Geiger’s live-in boyfriend, Jerry Chambers, 31.
Bennett believes her sister is another victim, manipulated and abused by her boyfriend. She reserves all of her vitriol for Chambers.
"I want him to pay for what he did to my family. I don’t want electrocution or lethal injection," said Bennett, 34. "I want him to suffer and to fear the rest of his life in prison.
"I want him to feel the fear my nieces and sister felt. I want him to suffer the black eyes and cracked teeth. I want him to feel the same pain. I want him to think and feel the rest of his life."
The tragic story of Porchia Bennett stuck in the public’s collective craw when it broke Aug. 17.
Around 1:10 p.m. on that bright Sunday, Geiger called police to report that Porchia’s battered, lifeless body was wedged between a mattress and bedroom wall inside the home she shared with Chambers at 1705 S. Fifth St.
Investigators also found Porchia’s three sisters, ages 4, 6 and 10, inside the home. The 10-year-old was so badly beaten she had to be rushed to Children’s Hospital of Philadelphia. All three of the girls are now in foster care.
The day after Porchia’s body was discovered, investigators charged Geiger and Chambers with four counts of endangering the welfare of a child. Chambers also was charged with the attempted murder of the 10-year-old. Days later, homicide detectives charged the couple with Porchia’s murder.
Next to be charged was another of Bennett’s sisters and the girls’ mother, Tiffany Bennett, 27. Facing four counts of child endangerment for leaving the children in harmful conditions, she remains in jail on $100,000 bail.
Bridgette Bennett contended the bail is "ridiculous" and believes it is unfair her sisters were charged in the first place.
She claims Geiger and the girls were prisoners in Chambers’ home. "Candice was innocent and she was battered," she said.
Bennett points to the blackened, swollen eyes in Geiger’s mug shot as proof of abuse. "Of course he did that to her," she said defiantly. "My sister was a very pretty girl. She never had black eyes."
After media reports about the long-term abuse the children had suffered, public outrage was directed at the Department of Human Services — which a neighbor had called about the case — as well as the Bennett family. Why, for example, didn’t Bridgette Bennett or anyone else related to the girls step in before it was too late?
For her part, Bennett denied any knowledge of the alleged abuse.
Inspector Bill Colarulo of the Police Public Affairs Unit said at a press conference last month that officers were called out to the home on South Fifth Street more than once for reports of domestic abuse, but at no time did they observe any signs of child abuse.
Bennett and her family didn’t either, she said, although they suspected something was wrong on two visits they made to the home over the past year.
Asked why Geiger did not try to seek help or even escape the abusive conditions, Bennett said her sister feared Chambers.
Bennett also spoke on behalf of her other sister, Tiffany, accused of abandoning her daughters and leaving them to face abusive conditions.
Tiffany Bennett was a single mother whose job as a night-shift factory worker left her in need of childcare, her sister said. Bridgette said she was unclear whether the children were living full-time at Chambers’ house or if it was "some sort of babysitting arrangement," as Homicide Capt. Richard Ross called it at a press conference last month.
Now Bridgette Bennett said she is the one left suffering.
"I’ve lost a lot and it hurts," she said. "It really hurts. My heart hurts. I’m lonely. I’m angry. My heart feels like I have a hole in it. It feels like I’m missing something. I cry every day because I miss my sisters and nieces."
Three of 11 children, Bridgette, Tiffany and Candice grew up at Seventh and Emily streets. They attended Southwark Elementary. Today, Bridgette lives at 22nd and Jackson with her fianc� and three of her five children.
She lights up when she talks about her nieces, who have been known to most people as little more than victims of a terrible tragedy.
Their aunt described them.
Alexis, 10, is a "real sweetheart" who is very bright and caring. "And she loves her sisters to death," Bennett added.
Alyah, 6, is a "sweetie" who walks on her "tippy toes" and is very feminine. "That’s my baby. She always wants to hug me."
Priscilla, 4, is kind of shy but once she gets talking, there’s no stopping her.
As for Porchia: "Oh God, she was a very pretty baby. She always had a smile on her face. She always wanted to be picked up and hugged. And she was so beautiful, you just wanted to pick her up every time."
And the 3-year-old just loved chicken. "She would run around with a chicken leg in her hand and say, ‘I got chicken, I got chicken,’" her aunt recalled with a laugh.
Bennett said she cannot fathom how Chambers — who has talked about having a mental illness in court — could harm the girls. "He says he’s bipolar, but I don’t believe it."
In the court of public opinion, the Department of Human Services might have actually received more blame for Porchia’s death than either of the people charged with her murder.
A neighbor reported suspicions of abuse in the home to DHS on a Thursday. Acting within the 36-hour time period allowed by law, a caseworker knocked on the door of the children’s home on Saturday. Getting no answer, she left a note. The next day, Porchia was dead.
DHS previously had worked with the Bennett family because of alleged abuse of another older sister, but after that child moved out of state, the case was dropped.
Prompted by the controversy that followed the tragedy, DHS has joined forces with the Philadelphia Police Department to track down transient or uncooperative families. The joint effort was announced Monday.
Bridgette Bennett said her own family went through a period when they could not find Geiger, who left home when she was 17.
Once the women’s mother discovered Geiger was living with Chambers, Geiger was 18 and police told the family there was nothing they could do.
Over the past year, Bennett and other family members were only allowed to visit the home twice, she said. Both times, they brought the children food and clothing. Chambers supervised all visits, Bennett said.
When she would ask the girls how they were doing, they assured her everything was fine, she said.
Bennett said her gut told her otherwise. She and her 16-year-old daughter, who was very close to Geiger, suspected something was amiss but said they had no clue it was child abuse.
Sometimes Bennett would stop by unannounced and Chambers told her the girls were not home.
"I cried about the kids being there. But he constantly assured me that everything was fine," she said. "The thing that hurts me the most is that he lied to me with a smirk on his face. Every day, I think about how he sat in a chair and looked me in the eyes and said everything is fine. It pissed me off."
Bennett said she did not want to elaborate on the abuse the girls suffered.
"I don’t really want to get into it," she said, on the verge of tears and uncomfortably shifting in her seat. "He tortured my sister and nieces."
A Muslim for four years, Bridgette Bennett acknowledged her religion preaches forgiveness as part of the healing process, and said she will try to apply that toward Chambers.
"I pray the Lord lifts the anger and bitterness I feel toward this man so I can move on with my life. I do not feel guilty because I know I did everything I could," she said.
And yet if she had it to do over, Bennett said without hesitation, she’d "kick his ass. Period. I would have picked up something and hit him upside his head."
Some of Bennett’s friends, along with record executive and community activist Abdul Chestnut, have established The Porchia Bennett Foundation to raise money for the surviving sisters.
"I don’t want this to happen to anybody else," the aunt said. "I don’t want anybody to feel the pain, the loss, the anger I’ve felt. I hope her death helped a lot of people — that it woke a lot of people up."
