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From left, Asawer, Abdul and Fourghan Alhilo. Abdul was killed June 26, 2011, in a hit-and-run accident on Federal Boulevard. A jury awarded the Alhilo family $2.5 million after determining the other driver was at fault.
From left, Asawer, Abdul and Fourghan Alhilo. Abdul was killed June 26, 2011, in a hit-and-run accident on Federal Boulevard. A jury awarded the Alhilo family $2.5 million after determining the other driver was at fault.
Noelle Phillips of The Denver Post.
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The moment Abdul Alhilo’s Ducati motorcycle slammed into the side of a Jeep, his family lost the one person who knew how to connect their old lives in Iraq to their new home in Denver.

The Jeep’s driver, who sped away and hid from authorities for two days, eventually pleaded guilty but spent only a few months in prison for leaving the scene. For the Alhilo family, the punishment was not enough, and their faith in the American criminal justice system had been shaken.

They wanted justice for their brother and for other victims of hit-and-run drivers.

Last week, a Denver jury heard their wishes and awarded the family a $2.5 million civil verdict after finding fault with the driver, Daniel Kliem.

“My brother deserved justice,” Fourghan Alhilo said last week. “We wanted to hold (Kliem) accountable. And prevent, maybe, in the future other families to have to go through what we went through.”

On June 26, 2011, Abdul Alhilo, 25, was racing his Ducati motorcycle down Federal Boulevard when a white Jeep SUV, making a left turn across three lanes of traffic, pulled in front of him.

Smoke from burning tires blew into the air as Alhilo tried to stop, but he slammed into the Jeep.

The impact ripped Alhilo’s helmet from his head and sent it hurtling through a window in the Jeep, striking a passenger. The violent collision was recorded by a security camera at a nearby Grease Monkey.

But Kliem, the Jeep’s driver, did not stop.

He sped away and then ditched his car — and his passengers, including one bleeding from a head injury — a few blocks away. Kliem, who had moved as a teenager to Denver from Germany with his family, hid and turned himself in to Denver police two days later.

Police found open Corona beer bottles and marijuana in Kliem’s Jeep. Police never tested for intoxication because 48 hours passed before Kliem turned himself in.

But attorneys who represent the Alhilo family argued that Kliem’s flight and two previous alcohol-related driving convictions show that he was intoxicated.

In closing arguments, Kurt Zaner, one of the attorneys, spoke about the high number of hit-and-run collisions and drunken driving in Denver. He asked jurors to send a message.

“You have an opportunity here to speak for the community and tell them that Denver will not tolerate this anymore,” Zaner said, according to a court transcript.

Denver police investigate thousands of hit-and-run cases each year, but usually those cases do not involve serious injury or death.

In 2014, there have been seven fatal hit-and-run accidents, and two remain unsolved, according to police department reports.

Colin Campbell, Kliem’s lawyer, insisted that the collision was Abdul Alhilo’s fault. He was traveling somewhere between 70 and 80 miles per hour, which was too fast for Federal Boulevard.

Campbell also said he does not believe that his client was drunk or high at the time of the collision.

Kliem, now 29, has not decided whether he will appeal, Campbell said.

Even if Kliem does not appeal, it could be years before any money is awarded as insurance companies and other interests litigate over who should pay. Kliem’s father, Juergen Kliem, also was named in the lawsuit because he had bought his son the SUV and had assisted his son during his 48 hours in hiding.

But the Alhilo family said money was never the point. They wanted Kliem to be held accountable, Fourghan Alhilo said.

After all, they had fled a country where justice was not even-handed, and they had believed that the American criminal justice system was fair.

The Alhilo family fled from Iraq in 2000 to get away from the Saddam Hussein regime, Fourghan said. The family of 12 was granted asylum and placed in Denver.

At the time, Abdul was 13. Fourghan was 14.

The siblings enrolled in South High School and began learning a new language and a new culture. Abdul had a big personality and made friends quickly.

In English-as-a-second-language classes, he not only learned English but also picked up Spanish from his classmates.

Abdul was a soccer player but learned American football. And he fell in love with American movies.

He also stood up for Fourghan, who was shy and did not make friends as easily. If Abdul was named a team captain in gym class, Fourghan would be his first pick.

“I didn’t know how to play basketball or anything,” she said. “I’m too shy. He wanted me to be involved.”

Because Abdul immigrated as a pre-teen, he was young enough to quickly assimilate to the United States but old enough to remember Iraq.

“He was the bridge between the older generation and the younger generation,” said Marc Harden, another family attorney. “He could relate so well to both parts of the family.”

Alhilo’s father returned to Iraq after the U.S. invasion, and Abdul Alhilo spent a lot of time with his mother and younger siblings.

He helped her with yardwork, and they baked bread together. He mentored a younger brother.

In the Muslim culture, women wear black for up to a year when a family member dies. Three years later, Naema Alhilo still wears black for her son.

“She feels like if she wears a color, she would be cheating Abdul,” Fourghan Alhilo said.

Abdul was studying computer science. Although he didn’t have a girlfriend, he had told his family he planned to be married by 30. He wanted a big family.

When Abdul died, his family sent his remains to Iraq for burial.

He is remembered and honored often. Each Sunday, the family gathers at Naema Alhilo’s house for dinner. They say blessings and prayers for Abdul before they eat, Fourghan said.

On May 2, Abdul’s birthday, the family goes to Pinkberry for yogurt because the chain’s pomegranate was his favorite dessert. They give the cashier $25, a dollar for each year he lived, to pay for yogurt for customers who come behind them.

These stories were told during the trial. Finally, the family felt people had learned about their brother’s life and Kliem had been held accountable for taking it.

“During the whole trial, I was so happy to hear them talking about Abdul and telling Abdul’s story,” Fourghan said. “Before then, I had lost my faith in the justice system. I didn’t feel Abdul had justice.”

Noelle Phillips: 303-954-1661, nphillips@denverpost.com or twitter.com/Noelle_Phillips