© St. Petersburg Times, published November 17, 1998

Fiery accident kills mother, daughter

By KATHRYN WEXLER

TOWN 'N COUNTRY -- As the pastor asked congregants Sunday if they were ready to bid the world goodbye and "meet Jesus now," Cindy Rae Murakami turned to a friend and smiled.

"She shook her head (yes)," said Eva Tyler.

Less than 24 hours later, Murakami, 45, and her 11-year-old daughter Chelsea were killed in a fiery crash less than a mile from their home. Two other drivers involved in the accident jumped from their burning cars to safety. Witnesses said one of those drivers appeared to be drag-racing with another car.

As smoke rose from the family's 1995 Ford van, Murakami's husband, Bruce, happened upon the accident while driving to work. He recognized the charred remains of the family car as firefighters doused the flames with water.

"He was out on the side of the curb, crying, holding his head with his head between his legs," said Florida Highway Patrol Trooper Hector Nieves, who investigated the crash. "I tried to put him in my car but he just wanted to be left alone."

More than six witnesses told a Florida Highway Patrol trooper investigating the crash that two cars were racing westbound on Hillsborough Avenue when one of them, a 1999 Dodge Intrepid, slammed into Murakami's van as she pulled out of a shopping center parking lot about 2 p.m. The impact sent her van across the westbound lanes and into eastbound traffic, where it smashed into an oncoming 1998 Jeep.

The three cars exploded in flames. The Dodge's driver, 19-year-old Justin Cabezas, was treated at St. Joseph's Hospital and released. The Jeep's driver, Susan Marques, also 19, of Masaryktown in Pasco County, was uninjured.

Nieves said no charges had been filed late Monday.

Before he was taken to the hospital, Cabezas told the trooper he was in the middle lane when Murakami pulled out in front of him.

"He said she cut him off," Nieves said.

Witnesses estimated that Cabezas' car and an older model Mustang that left the scene were racing at speeds up to 100 mph.

But a Florida Highway Patrol homicide investigator said the impact showed Cabezas was not driving that fast. Cabezas told Nieves he didn't remember how fast he was going, or his address in Sarasota, where he said he recently moved.

Murakami, who lived nearby at 9822 Compass Point Way, drove into Cabezas' path, Nieves said.

"Either she didn't notice them or she underestimated their speed," he said.

As word of the accident spread among members of Without Walls International Church on N Grady Avenue in Tampa, those who admired Murakami gathered near the crash site east of Elliot Drive to grieve.

"There's no way to make sense of it, but that she's in heaven now," said Jennifer Mallan, a pastor at the non-denominational church, where the Murakami family were active members since they moved to the area two years ago from Seattle.

On Wednesday, the family was supposed to move again, this time to Tulsa, Okla., home to Murakami's elder sons Joshua, 25, and Brody, 17, Mallan said. Instead, the young men boarded a plane for Tampa on Monday night to be with their father.

Mother and daughter will be cremated, she said.

Murakami was a stylish woman with a flair for flashy clothes and taste for gourmet food, friends said. She doted on Chelsea, a sixth-grader at Keswick Christian School in St. Petersburg who was adopted as a baby, they said.

She spent nearly as much time volunteering as some people spend on jobs, friends recalled Monday. She was always heading for a local hospital to cheer the sick, counseling at-risk children or planning elaborate baby showers for friends, they said.

"She just loved life and she had so much more to give," Mallan said, minutes after the blackened cars were towed from the intersection, where traffic was slowed for hours.

Bruce and Cindy Murakami taught a weekly parenting class at the church, Mallan said. During services, which she attended three times a week, Murakami always sat in the second row next to the aisle, her husband's arm draped around her shoulder.

At the church Sunday evening, Mallan said, many people bid the Murakamis goodbye because they were moving away.

"The didn't know they were saying goodbye forever."