'He Would Have Stopped': OF Crash Victim's Family Awaits Sentencing

OAK FOREST, IL — It's been four years since the crash that killed 62-year-old motorcyclist Kurt Krueger in Oak Forest.

That's longer than the total possible sentence the other driver involved will serve, the victim's daughter said.

As they await the sentencing for Christopher Caston, Krueger's family reflects on four years without him, and shares their frustration with the emotional court process.

"... the court case is extremely frustrating," said daughter Jessica Krueger Linkowski. "It’s hard to be in the same room with him. ... Emotionally, mentally, physically, it’s exhausting."

But Linkowski is determined to see the case's conclusion.

"I’ve been in every court date," she said. "If he’s going to be in that courtroom, so am I."

Krueger was traveling north at 167th and Cicero Avenue on June 1, 2019, when another driver headed south made an illegal left turn in front of him. Krueger struck the back of the car, suffering traumatic injuries.

Following the crash, prosecutors say Caston abruptly switched seats with his teenaged female passenger; red light cameras in the area would later reveal that to police and the family. The pair attempted to leave the scene, but a police officer at a gas station nearby had heard the impact of the crash and quickly arrived, Linkowski told Patch.

Krueger was gravely injured. The impact sent Krueger over Caston's car, Linkowski said, where he was left lying on the ground in front of it. The handlebars of his bike had impacted his abdomen. He suffered massive damage to his organs, and experienced internal bleeding. He would undergo five surgeries over the next five days—including one to repair damage to his brain. It was unsuccessful. He was taken off life support on June 6, 2019, dying on June 7.

In the process of the investigation, Caston provided false information to police due to another arrest warrant on an unrelated, earlier case, in which he was charged with felony aggravated fleeing and eluding in Harvey, according to court records. In July 2019, his charge in the Oak Forest crash was upgraded to felony driving on a suspended license.

After years of court dates and continuances, in April 2022 he was given a plea deal that carries a maximum three-year sentence. He's set to be officially sentenced on Sept. 13.

Linkowski has been left in limbo.

"When is enough, enough?" she said to Patch. "It’s very frustrating."

'He saved people's lives'

Beyond what people know about Krueger from the headlines surrounding his death, he was remarkable, Linkowski said.

A recovered addict, he dedicated his time to steering others away from addiction. He'd pick up those in need in the area in his large SUV, making sure all who needed it made it to a Narcotics Anonymous meeting, Linkowski said.

Krueger had used drugs throughout her childhood, battling addiction until his late fifties. At the time of his death, he was five years clean.

"He was so proud of himself," Linkowksi said, "and we were proud of him, too."

Krueger's influence inspired many, she said, to fight against the urge to use.

"He was amazing, he did all kinds of community service work," she said. "He literally saved people’s lives.

"I have victim impact statements from kids saying they’d be dead without him—that he pulled them off the streets, dropped them off in rehab."

Being the family member of an addict can be jarring, Linkowski said.

"I never wanted to live without my dad," she said. "Being the child of an addict, you always worry about losing your dad. And then, he got clean, and I lost him anyway. That’s really hard.

"It feels like I haven’t seen him in 20 years, and it feels like I saw him yesterday. It’s really hard."

'Not your average grandpa'

Linkowski can still picture him in active addiction, yet somehow never faltering as a father and grandpa. She and her younger sister Amanda, along with their adopted brother and sister—who are their biological cousins but lived with their family from a young age—referred to him as "Tootsie Pop." She recalls that Krueger owned a construction company, and was once remodeling the Tootsie Roll factory. They'd ask him to sneak them home candies—and nicknamed him accordingly.

His love for his family ran deep, Linkowski said.

"My dad was indescribable," she said. "He was so loving, and so much fun. He was the funniest person I’ve ever met.

Linkowski would now be a grandfather to seven, her daughter being the only girl.

"... so he was putty in her little chubby hands," she said, laughing.

"No matter where he was working, he’d come over every night and have dinner. He was not your average grandpa."

Krueger, who had been caring for his mother in Palos Heights at the time of the crash, was a big fan of NHRA racing. Linkowski remembers tagging along to the track, her ears ringing.

"I wanted to do everything that my dad did," she said. "We always took the bike, met up with all of his friends.

"He was so extra. We couldn’t just go to the races, or watch ‘em on TV—we had to be in the pit.

"He was a small guy, but he was absolutely crazy, he was just a nut."

Krueger had been at the races with his then-15-year-old grandson that day in June 2019. He dropped his grandson at home and then headed north along Cicero.

'He would have stopped'

As Linkowski has endured the court proceedings, she's grappled with anger and resentment—for both Caston and the system.

But often tugging at her, too, are lessons she learned from her dad.

"My dad was such a forgiving man, and my dad—obviously, being in the program—he believed in second chances and God, he probably would have wanted to help him," she said, of how she'd imagine her dad would feel toward someone in Caston's position.

Krueger had worked to overcome so much and fight his own demons, she said, and he was compelled to help so many others do the same. After he died, the Narcotics Anonymous group gave each member of the family an infinity coin, denoting Krueger was clean and sober at the time of his death, and "he’s forever locked in at NA."

Krueger had shown compassion for so many, Linkowski said, but the idea of showing that toward Caston is difficult.

"... The fact of the matter is, he chose to leave my dad alone dying in the street, not even attempt to help him, not hold his hand until he lost consciousness, not try to rip off the T-shirt and stop the bleeding," she said.

Though she wishes the sentence would be greater, she says nothing will compare to a lifetime of living without Krueger.

"We finally got the very, very best of him for 5 years, and then he was gone," she said.

"For what, three years?" Linkowski said, questioning the process the family has endured. "I’ve already served four years.

"Accidents happen, and I understand that. Switching radio stations, handing a kid a snack. It’s the humanity of it that bugs me. ... For me, it’s more about the type of person he is, and the type of person my dad was.

"... My dad would have stopped the car and tried to help save that guy."