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THE DAY THAT ENDED THE LIFE OF ALIX RICE; The trial of Dr. James G. Corasanti has brought to light the details of what happened the night of July 8, when the teen was struck and killed.

What happened that terrible July night on Heim Road is no longer a mystery.

More than three dozen witnesses over 14 days of Dr. James G. Corasanti's manslaughter and hit-and-run trial have pieced together a timeline of the night when Alexandria "Alix" Rice, an 18-year-old longboard skater, was struck and killed.

The 56-year-old Corasanti told the jury his side of that night during dramatic testimony all day Friday.

Jurors will weigh his explanation against what they have already heard from others who saw or investigated his actions.

Bartenders at Transit Valley Country Club and a record of Corasanti's text messages offer a glimpse of what he did in the hours before the fatal incident.

Witnesses and police investigators described what they saw along the stretch of Heim where Rice was struck.

Corasanti's neighbors revealed what he did and with whom he talked during the hour-and-a-half interlude between the fatal accident and his surrender.

There was the frantic scene at his house when he grasped the horror of what he had done.

And then later, a police lieutenant recalled the "sad look on his face" when Corasanti sat in the back seat of a police car after turning himself in at the Millersport Highway Noco station.

Jurors will hear more from Corasanti on Monday when a prosecutor resumes where he left off Friday -- seeking to pick apart the Getzville doctor's explanation.

But most of what happened July 8 now is out in the open.

>The country club

Corasanti said he arrived at Transit Valley Country Club in East Amherst at 5 o'clock on the warm Friday afternoon. He came straight from Buffalo General Hospital, where he had performed medical procedures on about 18 patients, beginning at 7:30 a.m.

After changing clothes in the locker room, he headed to the patio, where he ordered his first mixed drink. The drink -- 1 1/2 ounces of Captain Morgan rum mixed with Diet Pepsi -- came in a paper cup.

Corasanti said he ate some steak-and-cheese quesadillas, a turkey sandwich and antipasto while he waited for his wife and friends.

It was golf couples' night at the country club, and Corasanti's group included three other couples.

Around 6 p.m., he said he ordered another rum and Diet Pepsi as he headed for the fifth hole with his wife and friends for the shotgun start of the "martini golf" event.

He and his wife shared a fajita between the fifth and sixth holes, Corasanti said. Later, he ate potato skins and a piece or two of pita bread at a station set up between the second and third holes.

He also had another mixed drink.

Around 8:15 p.m., an assistant manager announced the golf event was ending, but Corasanti and the other men in the group kept playing.

Corasanti said he made par on a 520-yard hole and then on a par-three hole. His group played well enough to win a friendly wager with other golfers.

Later, the four couples gathered around 9:15 p.m. for friendly conversation.

A bottle of champagne was delivered to Corasanti's table to pay off the golf bet.

Corasanti said he made a toast -- to "a nice evening with the new people we met" -- but he denied drinking champagne.

The doctor said he ordered a Benedictine and brandy for himself and a white creme de menthe.

But the talk around the table turned to wine, so Corasanti ordered a $100 bottle of Silver Oak cabernet sauvignon.

"It seemed like a nice thing to do," he said.

Corasanti said he only had a sip of his mixed drink when his wife moved it aside to make room for the wine. He said he took a sip of wine when the server presented him the bottle and asked him to taste it before she served the others.

Kathy Cahill, of Tonawanda, the server at the country club, said she did not see Corasanti drink champagne or finish his glass of wine. She said he walked without a problem.

Asked by Corasanti's defense attorney if Corasanti appeared to have too much to drink, she replied, "No."

While socializing, Corasanti sent four text messages to Christine Micciarello, a physician assistant at Buffalo Medical Group, where Corasanti practiced. He sent the first text at 10:03 p.m. and the last at 10:53 p.m.

Micciarello, of Clarence, said she deleted Corasanti's text messages the next morning without reading them because she wanted "to get up to" other text messages on her phone that she knew were about consultations she had that day at work.

Corasanti said he believed his texts to her were about a patient, "but I can't recall the details."

Corasanti also exchanged texts with Bonnie Warsaw, a medical assistant who worked for Corasanti at the medical group, starting at 10:54 p.m.

Warsaw has testified that she exchanged text messages with Corasanti over the scheduling of an office party.

Corasanti said his wife left before him and that she arrived at their Getzville home before he left Transit Valley at 11:12 p.m.

He said he knows this because he remembers the time that showed on his iPhone when he took her call from their home while he was in the country club's parking lot. It's also the time he saw on a text from Warsaw, he said.

Corasanti denied being drunk at the time of the fatal accident, despite registering a 0.10 percent blood-alcohol content five hours after the late-night hit-and-run.

Given the over-the-legal-limit reading, prosecutor James F. Bargnesi spent a good portion of the cross-examination asking the doctor about his drinking.

"You want us to believe you had one glass of wine between 9:30 and 11:15?" Bargnesi asked.

"Spend a lot of time hanging around after she was gone?" Bargnesi asked, noting Laureen Corasanti left the country club before her husband. "If you stayed and had a drink with a friend, nobody but you would have known, right?"

The stretch of Heim where his car struck Rice is about four miles from the country club. As Corasanti pulled out of the parking lot, he was about 10 minutes from his life changing forever.

>The accident

Corasanti pulled onto Transit Road and then he made a left turn onto Muegel Road. He turned right onto Paradise Road and left onto Casey Road, which he followed until Dodge Road.

He turned left onto Dodge, which connects with Heim.

Corasanti's attorneys call Heim a dark road.

Police investigators call it a "well-lit" road.

Both Corasanti and Rice were headed west. She was on her nearly 4-foot-long longboard -- she named it Rupert -- riding home from her job at a pizzeria.

Corasanti said he never saw the young woman. He felt his car run over something but did not stop, or even apply his brakes.

"There was nothing I saw or felt or heard that suggested I should stop my car," Corasanti said.

Prosecutors have said Corasanti was drunk, speeding and texting when he struck Rice in the bike lane and drove away.

One 911 call was made after the fatal incident, by a passing motorist who stopped to help. That call was placed at 11:21 p.m.

No witnesses saw the vehicle strike Rice. But the nearby motorist heard what happened.

Mark Rowland, of Getzville, testified that he and his wife were returning from Shakespeare in Delaware Park when he spotted Rice skateboarding in front of his vehicle on Heim.

He said Rice crossed Heim in front of his car in a crouched position as she skated toward the bike lane.

"She was highly visible," Rowland said.

He added that she was riding her longboard "in a controlled fashion" as she reached the other side of Heim.

After Rowland passed Rice, he became alarmed by a car coming toward him and the skateboarder, because he said the approaching car was in the bike lane where she was riding her longboard.

Then he heard the impact.

"There was this almighty bang," Rowland testified. "It was ungodly."

Investigators believe Rice's crouched position helps account for how far she was thrown when Corasanti's car struck her, vaulting her forward.

She was thrown at least 40 feet in the air and then skidded across nearly 39 feet of concrete before coming to rest on a lawn, more than half the length of a football field from the point of impact, said Senior Investigator Robert C. McMahon of the Amherst Police Department.

Police Officer Gregg Huller was the first officer to arrive. He heard the call about a pedestrian injury at 11:23 p.m. while on Millersport Highway near the football stadium. He was on the scene within three minutes.

"I saw what appeared to be a victim lying on the ground," Huller said.

He was not sure if Rice had a pulse. Her eyes were open, but her pupils did not move. He radioed medical responders to "hurry it up."

They arrived within 30 seconds.

>The Corasanti home

Less than a mile away, Corasanti parked his damaged BMW in his garage and got out to check the right front fender.

He saw the crumpled hood.

"I couldn't believe the amount of damage compared to what I felt [at impact]," he said.

He said he went upstairs in his house and found his wife, who had just put their 7-year-old son to bed.

"I ran over something on Heim Road," he told her.

The two went to the garage to look over the car with a flashlight, because there was only a flickering light in the garage.

He noticed red spots that he said looked like blood and "a little piece of yellow tissue" on the right corner of the bumper.

With his finger, he took the dime-size piece of tissue off the bumper to take a closer look. Then he dropped it on the wooden step next to the doorway.

"It was fatty tissue," Corasanti said.

By now, in Corasanti's version of events, he still did not know what had happened on Heim, but he became upset by the tissue he found.

Laureen Corasanti, whose keys were in her Range Rover, got in her vehicle and drove to Heim without her husband's prompting.

He called lawyer Thomas H. Burton, a friend for 30 years.

"I didn't know what to do," Corasanti said on the stand, explaining why he did not call authorities.

Six minutes later, Laureen Corasanti returned home "frantic."

Police had closed Heim, and she saw the flashing lights of an ambulance and police cars.

He called Burton again, prepared to do whatever the lawyer instructed. A lawyer who works with Burton was on her way to the Corasanti home. The lawyer would surrender Corasanti to authorities.

By now, Corasanti knew he struck a person, but he did not know if the person was alive.

After he hung up, the Corasantis cried.

Then he panicked.

He ran to the front door.

His wife tried to stop him, defense attorney Joel L. Daniels said, but he got past her.

His home's security surveillance system showed him bolting from the home 28 minutes after the fatal accident.

Corasanti said he did not want to surrender to police at his home.

"I didn't want to have the police come to the house with my son there," he testified.

He said he just wanted to walk. He ran the first block.

>Surrender at Noco

Frantic, Mrs. Corasanti went across the street to her neighbor Joseph Piparo's house looking for help.

She feared her husband might kill himself, Piparo said.

Piparo drove his car looking for Corasanti, and he found his neighbor alone about a half-mile away.

Corasanti wanted to be left alone, Piparo recalled during his testimony. But he did not want to leave him alone.

Maybe it was an animal, Piparo suggested.

Corasanti said his wife had seen the ambulance.

Another neighbor, David McLean, eventually found the two men.

"I had some drinks," Corasanti said, according to McLean. "I've ruined my life. I've ruined my career."

At 12:12 a.m., while walking with Corasanti, Piparo called an off-duty Amherst police officer, trying to learn what had happened on Heim, but the officer did not know.

At the same time, an on-duty Amherst police officer saw three women in front of the Corasanti home and asked if they had seen a damaged car. They did not reveal what they knew.

The lady who had been speaking on the cellphone the whole time handed the cellphone to the officer.

"Here, talk," she said to Officer Robert W. Stephens Jr., who was on patrol looking for a damaged car.

On the other end was Burton, the attorney for Dr. Corasanti.

Stephens said he did not learn the name of the driver, where he was or where the car was, but Stephens gave Burton the phone number for his lieutenant. Stephens parked near the home. Dr. Corasanti, meanwhile, had walked about a mile and was near Stahl Road. His brother-in-law had joined the three men.

At 12:37 a.m., Piparo called another off-duty Amherst police officer and learned that the hit-and-run victim was seriously injured.

Piparo said he handed Corasanti his cellphone. The officer told Corasanti to walk to a Noco station at Millersport near Dodge, slightly less than a mile away.

Corasanti, his neighbors and his brother-in-law walked to the Noco Express, where Amherst Police Lt. Ted Dinoto took Corasanti into custody.

"You're Jim Corasanti. I'm Lieutenant Dinoto," Dinoto said.

Corasanti nodded.

Dinoto asked him to get into the back seat of the police car. He was not put in handcuffs.

"Officer, how's the girl? Is she dead?" Corasanti asked from the back seat.

She had died, he was told.

Corasanti hung his head, Dinoto said, remembering the "sad look on his face."