A federal judge in Waco on Thursday sentenced Jeffrey Brent Heckman.

Critical Care Toxicology: Diagnosis and Management of the Critically Poisoned Patient, 1e


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There were many taunts he had to endure but only Brent Stoker twisted and distorted his first name by making it sound like a sissy sounding one. With fear in his heart he looked to his left and saw what he already knew was there. Brent was leaning against a tree holding a cigarette. Brent was the biggest kid in the 10th grade, and for good reason, he had failed twice and was almost 18 tears old. He was 6'2" and had a lean but very muscular form. He had ton of naturally curly hair and a face the girls died for. He was also one of Jeffery's chief tormentors. Actually his and Brent's relationship as bully and victim went all the way back to grade school. Jeffery knew Brent very well and hated him thoroughly. Joining Brent was one of his main sidekicks, Joey Watson. Joey was another good sized kid. Not quite as tall as Brent but a little stockier in the body. He was heavy into bodybuilding and it showed. "Hey Jeffery", said Brent. "Come over here for a minuet. I wanna talk to you." For an instant Jeffery felt like making a run for it but he was a good 200 yards from the road and knew he would never make it. He would just have to play out the hand and see what happened.

Jeffrey Brent, M.D., Ph.D is a Distinguished Clinical Professor of Medicine, University of Colorado School of Medicine and Colorado School of Public Health. He completed his medical toxicology Fellowship training at the Rocky Mountain Poison and Drug Center.

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With his arms clutching his book bag tight to his body he walked toward them. "That's a good boy Jeffery. Isn't he a good boy Joey?" said Brent in a condescending tone. "Yeah", was the only thing Joey could manage to say. "What's in the bag Jeffery?" said Brent. "Just my books and homework", replied Jeffery quietly. "Well, ...lets us just take a look", as Brent ripped it from Jeffery's feeble grip. There was more in there than just his homework. His bag contained the star chart he had made to track the coming comet. He had spent weeks making it and had really impressed the others of his astronomy club less than an hour ago. Brent dumped the contents of the bag on the ground. Books, papers, pens and pencils, his calculator and his star chart spilled out into the wet but not quite muddy April soil. Of course Jeffery knew Brent was too stupid to realize that his star chart was more than just homework but when the bully stepped on it smashing it into the soft earth he simply became enraged. His anger rose as Brent stomped and kicked his belongings. When Brent said, "You know Jeeeeffeerrrry you are just about the sorriest thing I've ever seen" and gave him a moderate slap on the face, something in the smaller boy exploded. Some sort of primal instinct overrode his intellect (and better judgment) and he threw a punch at Brent impacting the larger boy's nose. It was difficult to tell which was more stunned by the act Brent, Joey, or Jeffery himself as Brent took a step back and wiped the trickle of blood from his left nostril. Almost instantly his rage was gone and his feeling of total fear returned....with good reason. "Why you little shit!!!!" , said Brent. "I'm gonna kick your little ass so hard!!" Brent grabbed Jeffery by the collar of his shirt and threw him down in the moist dirt. Jeffery landed hard and felt his shirt rip as he was almost immediately hauled up to his feet again and pushed hard into a large tree trunk. "Hey dude", said Joey, "better get out of sight of the traffic." Brent looked up from his victim to consider this. His partner was right they were in plain view should a car go by or someone else come walking by. There was a hill that led down to a creek just behind them. Grabbing Jeffery's clothing, causing further rips he tossed the boy down the hill as if he were a toy. As Jeffery rolled down the hill unable to slow his tumble the two attackers followed.

Born in 1951 as Jeffrey Alan Brent, the Los Angeles-raised radio newsman-turned-TV/radio syndication executive lived with his real identity until July, 1986, when a fractious divorce -- and the financial obligation to his ex-wife and three children -- prompted his abrupt departure. His ex-wife and daughters never saw him again.