There was little question that James Dellavecchia would spend his remaining years behind bars for the death of his neighbor Scott Robins, since his first-degree murder conviction carried a mandatory life sentence.
But on Tuesday, a Delaware County judge took another step to ensure that the 73-year-old Ridley Township man would die in prison for what he called a "cold-blooded murder" by adding seven to 14 years more time on additional charges.
"What this does ... is triple-guarantee, no matter what, he will never be paroled," said Judge Michael F.X. Coll.
Police had fielded calls from Dellavecchia for months about loud music and noise from his neighbor while Robins was building a shed. Robins had the necessary permits and was building during approved hours.
It was before dawn on Oct. 10, 2011, when Dellavecchia lay in wait for Robins to leave for work. He stepped out and began firing a .40-caliber semiautomatic Ruger, hitting Robins four times.
Kristen Snow, Robins' stepdaughter, was wounded when she came out to check on her father. As she lay bleeding on the front lawn, Dellavecchia stood over her and pointed a gun at her head.
Robins' coworker at Metropolitan Fire Protection Co., Richard Wallace, was waiting in a van and was able to escape unharmed even after Dellavecchia shot at him as he ran.
In all, 13 shots were fired.
After the shooting, Dellavecchia went back into his house to shower, where he was arrested by police who had been tipped off by Robins as he lay dying.
"Dellavecchia did it," Robins said.
Coll said that statement was instrumental in convicting Dellavecchia.
Without the statement, "this defendant would have gotten away with murder," Coll said.
On Tuesday, Snow did not waiver as she made her way up to speak before the court, steadying herself with a cane.
"This man has made these last 14 months of my young adult life a living hell," the 23-year-old Ridley Township woman said. She detailed the 16 surgeries that have left her scarred, in pain, and with permanent damage to a leg and intestines. Snow, who once worked three jobs, said she may never be able to have children or lift them if she does.
Her father, she said, will never be able to give her a hug, tell her how proud he was of her, or walk her down the aisle.
Snow, facing further surgeries for her wounds, had one last remark for the defendant.
"Mr. Dellavecchia, hope you like your new neighbors," she said.
Dellavecchia's attorney said he would appeal.