In the last minutes of his life, Christopher Spack pled with the 911 operator for help.

He was in an S-10 pickup, one of those small ones, and he had it going 80 miles an hour, in and out of traffic, trying to get away.

But William LeVea wouldn’t let him go.

He stayed on his tail, jamming the gas pedal to the floor, smashing into Christopher Spack over and over.

William LeVea was 79 then, and blowing something like two times drunk. A lifelong hood, he’d killed a man once in a bar brawl by smashing a stool over his head. Christopher Spack was 41, with two kids at home. A 10-year-old boy and a 15-year-old daughter.

William LeVea was coming from a family party. He had left a couple of hours before and been drunk as hell when he got in the car and pulled the wrong way out of the driveway. The family was worried about him so they called 911 and asked if there’d been a wreck or if he’d been stopped. Then they refused to provide a description of his vehicle, so that authorities could be on the lookout for him.

That’s what kind of people these folks are.

William LeVea and Christopher Spack didn’t know one another, and there is no way of knowing what perceived dispute set William LeVea off this time. He was prone to rage, typically pointless and baseless rage, and that’s what he unleashed on Christopher Spack back in November of 2009.

It started with a smash into the back of his car, a purposeful, repeated slamming, like something out of a movie or a demolition derby.

Christopher Spack called 911, frantic, asking for help, with a lunatic on his tail. He tried to escape, and the deputies and troop cars converged on his route.

But Cayuga County is a big place and the police came from quite a distance and before they could intersect the speeding cars William LeVea revved it up for one last blow.

He struck the S-10 in such a way that it ricocheted uncontrollably across its lane and into oncoming traffic.

That was a Silverado.

The S-10 was literally torn into pieces and the Silverado’s engine pushed back through the passenger compartment, crushing the driver’s legs.

A third vehicle, in the split second of the wreck, crashed into the back of the Silverado.

When his truck disintegrated, Christopher Spack was killed instantly.

It was a carnage of man and machine.

William LeVea had skidded to a stop, surveyed the damage and put it back in gear.

That’s when another motorist ran up to him and grabbed him and said, “You did this! You did this! You caused all this!”

And William LeVea responded as a devil would.

“I don’t care,” he said.

That was the day Christopher Spack died.

Right now we’re talking about the day William LeVea walks free.

Because the odds are that day is coming soon. The odds are that by Memorial Day William LeVea will be a free man, living in comfortable, prosperous Penfield, New York.

In 2011, a little over a year after Christopher Spack was killed, William LeVea, no stranger to prison, was sentenced to 6 to 18 years in Cayuga County Court. It was part of a plea agreement that avoided a trial.

That was three years ago.

Three years into a 6 to 18 and William LeVea wants out.

Specifically, he wants a compassionate release. His daughter has put in the paperwork, claiming he is senile and has a terminal disease, and the odds are 3-to-1 – based on state averages – that the parole board will let him go.

The district attorney in the matter says there’s nothing wrong with William LeVea now that wasn’t wrong with him when he went to prison. He says there is no need for a compassionate release.

The family of Christopher Pack is devastated by this possibility, and is trying to stop it. If the state shows mercy to William LeVea, it will simultaneously be showing cruelty to the loved ones of Christopher Pack.

It is worth nothing that William LeVea’s health is such that he is not in a hospice, he is not in a hospital, he is not even in one of the state’s prisons associated with an inmate medical center.

Translation: He’s in normal health for a man his age.

But beyond that, dying in prison is a hazard of committing violent felonies when you’re 79. If you die before the end of your term, tough luck. No mercy was shown Christopher Spack, no escape from his torments was offered him.

Another worrisome aspect of this is that if he is granted a compassionate release, William LeVea will be sent to live with a daughter – in suburban Rochester.

Inasmuch as he was leaving a family party, where he was allowed to get drunk and drive away, when he killed Christopher Spack, serious questions have to be raised about the trustworthiness of his family.

So what can you do?

More correctly, what must you do?

You must write. You must ask the state parole board to deny William LeVea’s request for compassionate release. You must politely communicate to the parole board why you think it would be wrong or dangerous for William LeVea to walk free again.

But, this being New York, writing to the parole board is difficult and exacting. If you write the wrong place, or leave out pertinent information, your letter will be disregarded.

First of all, here is where you can write online:

At that webpage, there is a mailing address and a link. You may use either one.

But on either one, you must include William LeVea’s inmate number, which is 11-B-0677.

The deputies and troopers couldn’t get to Christopher Spack in time to save him. For eight long minutes, as a killer rammed into the back of his truck, he cried for help.

You can answer his cries.

You can answer his family’s cries.

You can write. You can keep his killer in jail.