By Lauren McAden
Assistant Criminal District Attorney in Randall County
On August 9, 2025, Raymundo Ayala was stopped on Interstate 27 in Amarillo by a DPS trooper for speeding and failure to maintain a single lane.
Ayala was driving 67 miles per hour in a 60-mph zone and he almost swerved into a concrete barrier. When the trooper approached the car, he saw Ayala put gum in his mouth. He had incredibly slurred speech and had to use his vehicle for support as he got out and walked around it. He admitted to drinking “only a couple of beers” (just like most defendants we all have prosecuted for driving while intoxicated [DWI]).
Ayala failed the HGN (horizontal gaze nystagmus) test and was unable to safely get in the ready position for the walk-and-turn. He was placed under arrest and taken to a local hospital for a blood draw, which he resisted. The blood sample was sent to a DPS (Department of Public Safety) lab in Lubbock, and his BAC came back at 0.213.
This was to be his twelfth (plus) DWI conviction (and he admitted to even more drunk driving when he testified during punishment at his trial).
A little history
When this case came across my desk, I knew Ayala needed to go away for a long time. He had previously gone to prison four times on six different DWI convictions, and he was currently on parole for his most recent conviction where he was sentenced to 25 years. It was evident from his numerous DWI convictions dating back to 1972 that if he wasn’t in prison, he was on the road putting everyone else in danger.
Drunk driving is a serious problem in Randall County. We see intoxication-related crashes every year. Our office and the public agree that DWIs are completely avoidable and should be punished. Unfortunately, DWI convictions are sometimes the hardest to get.
I remember when I attended baby prosecutor school (TDCAA’s Prosecutor Trial Skills Course), many speakers shared their “why” at the end of their presentation—why they became prosecutors. My “why” is Sarah Grace Dearmond, my college roommate and an angel on earth. When I was a college sophomore in Lubbock in 2019, Sarah Grace and I went to get ice cream one night. On our way back, we were struck by a drunk driver who ran a red light. Sarah Grace was killed, and I somehow survived with only a concussion, a busted eyelid, and some bruised bones. The other driver pleaded guilty to intoxication manslaughter in 2023 and is currently serving a 10-year sentence.
As a prosecutor these years later, I have sat across from families who have lost loved ones in a similar way and I’ve tearfully told them about Sarah Grace. I know all too well not only how dangerous drunk drivers are but also how it feels to lose someone I love due to someone else’s selfish actions.
It is hard not to take DWIs and intoxication cases personally, but the safety of our community is largely on me as a prosecutor. I do take it personally to do whatever I can to ensure that no one suffers the loss I did. (Thank you, prosecutors in Lubbock County, for speaking with me and providing more information on Sarah Grace’s case. It has helped me in more ways than you know.)
The trial
I tried this case with Alexis Martin. Alexis and I started in our office on the same day in September 2024, and we had been impatiently waiting to try a case together ever since. I knew she would be the perfect trial partner when it came time to take Ayala to court. We even wore matching or coordinating suits throughout the trial.
I knew there were two potential issues going into voir dire. My first battle would be finding jurors who would still make me prove that Ayala committed a DWI and not automatically assume he committed this offense because he had committed the other two required for a DWI–Third or More. I knew the defense would talk about this issue, so I made sure I did first.
I simply asked if everyone would hold me to my burden and make me prove beyond a reasonable doubt that the defendant 1) committed a DWI and 2) was the same person who committed the two previous DWIs. All the jurors nodded their heads, so I moved on. It wasn’t until the very end of voir dire when a potential juror on the last row asked why we were having a trial because Mr. Ayala had two prior convictions. A few other jurors nodded their heads in agreement at the question. I took that opportunity to (again) explain that an indictment is like a traffic ticket: It’s not evidence of guilt but notice of what you are being accused of, and Ayala has a right to a jury trial. With that example, everyone seemed to be on board.
My second issue was getting jurors to agree to consider the punishment range of 25 years to life in prison on what they knew was “only” a DWI. I explained enhancements and then used the example of a toolbox to explain the punishment phase of trial. I told jurors that they won’t know what tool they need to pull out of their toolbox until they know what the problem is. At guilt–innocence, they determine there’s a problem; at the punishment phase, they determine what tools they need to fix the problem. Fortunately for me, all the jurors agreed that they could give meaningful consideration to the punishment range of 25 to life.
I discovered the Thursday before trial that I would have to get a little creative in proving up my jurisdictional priors. The first one was a felony where I had the pen pack and a certified copy of the indictment. But on the second, all I had was a certified copy of a 1986 docket sheet with a cause number, Ayala’s name, offense date, and conviction date. Luckily, the indictment for the first felony prior also alleged the 1986 prior. I would have to explain to the jury that Ayala’s guilty plea to the felony prior confirmed that he had also been convicted of DWI in 1986. I had a backup plan to also admit a certified copy of Ayala’s driving record, which listed his convictions—the dates of the offense and his arrest matched those on the 1986 docket sheet. I had multiple other judgments and pen packs that also alleged the 1986 prior, but I wanted to keep those in my back pocket for punishment, not only to enhance his punishment but also to show the jury how many convictions Ayala had.
Prior to the start of trial, the defense indicated the toxicologist was going to be an important witness for them. Good thing Alexis had attended a training with W. Clay Abbott, TDCAA’s DWI Resource Prosecutor, the week before. Armed with what Clay taught at that training, Alexis preempted every single possible defense argument they could have had for the toxicologist. Alexis had two goals going into her direct examination. The first was to make sure the jury knew the truth about forensic toxicology from the expert before the defense had the opportunity to discredit it. Her second goal was to establish the toxicologist as a subject matter expert, not only as to testing but also the effects of alcohol on the human body. Ultimately, she helped the jury understand the nuances of blood alcohol analysis. While our trooper testified phenomenally, the real star was Alexis’s direct examination of the forensic toxicologist.
During closing, I explained to the jury about the priors, using jigsaw puzzle pieces as an example of how each piece of evidence makes up the whole picture, and I walked jurors through every element of a DWI and the evidence that proved each element. I also told the jury that they had everything they needed to find Ayala guilty.
After the State rested, the defense moved for a partial directed verdict. The motion had two main points. The first was that I did not prove that the indictment for Ayala’s second felony prior was the indictment to which Ayala pleaded guilty. The second point of the motion was the only thing linking the felony prior to the 1986 prior was Ayala’s name, and name alone is insufficient to prove a prior. The defense is right that name alone is not sufficient to prove priors, but there is not one singular way to prove a prior, and the Court of Criminal Appeals has held that the jury is allowed to use their reason and common sense to put the pieces together like a jigsaw puzzle.[1] The trial court held that there was some evidence linking Ayala to the felony prior and the 1986 prior, and the defense motion was denied.
The jury found Ayala guilty after just an hour of deliberation.
Punishment
For punishment, I had three other pen packs, four docket sheets from the 1980s, and a certified copy of Ayala’s driving record. That driving record was really important. I was aware of more DWIs from his criminal history and driving record dating back to 1972, and I was able to get him to admit to those on the stand. When I put everything together, I counted 14 DWIs from three different Texas counties and one in Illinois. Ayala pleaded true to the punishment enhancements; I admitted all my pen packs, docket sheets, and driving records; and the State rested.
Ayala’s wife testified at punishment and talked about the life they’ve had together for over 50 years. During cross examination, Alexis got her to admit Ayala drives drunk all the time and had done it far more times than he had been arrested for.
Ayala also took the stand. On direct examination, he stated he had gotten so many DWIs because he was “unlucky.” On cross, I asked him why he kept doing it if he knew he was so unlucky. Ayala simply answered “ignorance.” Based on his and his wife’s testimony, I genuinely believe he still thinks it’s OK to drink and drive.
During defense closing argument, counsel asked the jury to consider the lower end of the punishment range because “Mr. Ayala never intentionally hurt anyone.” I knew that line was my perfect opening to bring home to the jury how many times he had driven while intoxicated. I laid every single docket sheet and pen pack on the bannister in front of the jury box, and I told the jury that Ayala was actually lucky—lucky he never killed anyone. I reminded the jury they could make sure he never had the opportunity to get behind the wheel again and that sentencing him to life was the way to do that. (Yes, Ayala is a 75-year-old man, so any sentence within the punishment range would be a life sentence. But that didn’t change my opinion of asking the jury to consider life. It was clear that if Ayala was not in prison, he would be driving while intoxicated.) His luck had run out, and we wouldn’t allow him an opportunity to potentially kill someone.
The jury returned a verdict of life in just over 30 minutes.
When we talked to a juror after the trial, we asked how the jury got to life. He said that it was a hard decision to impose such a sentence, but the fear of Ayala getting behind the wheel ever again outweighed any concerns they had about him going to prison for life.
Conclusion
I have been a prosecutor for just under two years, and after every trial I try to pick out one thing to keep with me, even if I would rather forget the whole case entirely. In this trial, I learned that juries can tell when you care. I don’t tell juries about Sarah Grace, but I know they can tell how much I care about DWIs and related offenses.
[1] Flowers v. State, 220 S.W.3d 919, 921-22 (Tex. Crim. App. 2007).