As the jury filed into a sixth-floor New Haven courtroom at half-past noon Tuesday, Dr. Petit, the lone survivor of the notorious 2007 Cheshire home invasion and murders of his wife and daughters, sat quietly off to the side.
And then, in a tense and hushed courtroom, the verdict was read: Steven Hayes, one of the two men accused of the chilling destruction of his family, was guilty of all but one of the 17 counts against him — making him eligible for the death penalty.
As friends and family cried and put their arms around each other, there was Dr. Petit, sitting at the very end of the front row, taking it all in.
He'd heard day after day of unimaginable testimony. And all along, so many wondered how a man could do this, why a man would do it.
Why would anyone want to relive the haunting last moments of his wife caught on bank surveillance tape, the horrific photos of his 17- and 11-year-old daughters' bodies, the senselessness of it all in such disturbing and depraved detail?
And then minutes after the verdict was read, it was Dr. Petit himself outside the courtroom giving everyone the answer.
"People keep asking that question: Why do you do it or how do you do it?" he said, as he paused while looking over the swarm of reporters. "You probably would all do the same thing for your families if your family was destroyed by evil."
"Do I really want to do it?" he continued. "Do I look forward to the ride every day? No. I have a little nausea every time I get off the exit ramp, a little nausea every time I get out of the car and walk across the street."
"But I do it for my family. I think all of you would do the same thing."
The answer was heartbreaking, and a little surprising. I'd always wondered if he was unique in the way he'd handled such overwhelming tragedy. But here he was saying that he was no different from anyone else, that we all had the same strength.
Over the past few weeks, the family exhibited that strength every day, in their poise and graciousness to just about everyone around them.
The way the Hawke and Petit grandmothers, two women who share such a devastating loss, would compliment someone on a colorful shirt or a pretty scarf.
The way Dr. Petit's father and the Rev. Richard Hawke, Jennifer's dad, would go out of their way to thank reporters for their respectfulness or sensitive treatment of their families.
And even there, at the very end of the trial, when Superior Court Judge Jon Blue warned everyone that they needed to keep their emotions in check or be ejected from the courtroom. I wondered how this family who'd shown such amazing restraint through so many torturous moments inside that courtroom could be expected to do that.
But they did.
And for all of that, Dr. Petit credited his wife, the woman he stood by in one of the only ways left to him.
"Jennifer never prayed to God to ask for specific things," he said. "She prayed to God to ask for the strength to be able to handle things that occurred to her in her life."
"I think probably they were all praying for our strength to be able to be here."
