SAN FRANCISCO — He earned a place among the nation's most reviled criminals more than two decades ago when he set his sleeping 6-year-old son on fire in a Buena Park motel room, leaving the boy disfigured.
Under sentencing laws of the day, he served less than seven years in prison. After three more years of around-the-clock guard -- the strictest parole in California history -- Charles Rothenberg was free to live the life of his choosing.
Today, the 64-year-old Rothenberg sits in a San Francisco courtroom, on trial again under the latest in a line of aliases: Charley Charles. His hair is gray. His pate is bald. But his dark eyes and bewildered expression match those of the man whose face was seared into California's consciousness for doing the unthinkable to the boy he said he loved uncontrollably.
This time, Rothenberg faces 25 years to life under the state's three-strikes sentencing law. He's charged with possession of a loaded .38-caliber handgun and dozens of rounds of ammunition -- felony crimes for a felon like him. Meanwhile, he awaits a separate trial for ordering credit cards in the names of former neighbors and acquaintances and cashing checks that were not his.
Prosecutors declined to comment until a jury was selected on their decision to pursue a three-strikes conviction -- in liberal San Francisco, a rare prosecutorial tactic for a nonviolent offense. Jury selection was to resume today.
Even before Rothenberg doused his son David's bedspread in kerosene in the Buena Park Travelodge, lit a match and fled, the New York waiter had a criminal record in three states stretching back to 1958. There were convictions for armed robbery, forged checks and burglary, and a pending warrant for vandalizing and stealing from a Manhattan restaurant where he had worked.
After the 1983 blaze, Rothenberg openly expressed remorse for lashing out at the boy he said he was afraid of losing after his ex-wife threatened to cut off future visits. David received third-degree burns over 90% of his body and nearly died. His courageous recovery brought him international acclaim.
Now 28, he lives out of state and could not be reached for comment. His mother, who remarried, did not respond to efforts to contact her, but prosecutors note in their filings that Rothenberg's recent arrest triggered fears that he "will do harm to them."
