SAN DIEGO — Damon van Dam collapsed into sobs Wednesday morning as a former teacher described his slain 7-year-old daughter Danielle as a caring, studious child who adored her family.

"She got along with everybody. Everyone was Danielle's friend," Amy DeStefanie told jurors who convicted David Westerfield of murder last week and begin Wednesday hearing evidence that will help them decide whether he should die for the crime.

Danielle van Dam

As DeStefanie added, "She never wanted anyone to feel alone or sad," Damon van Dam, a software engineer who has remained mostly stoic throughout almost three months of trial, let out a gasp from his seat in the back row and began crying. His wife Brenda, who often cried during the trial, appeared shocked and then stroked her husband's head and whispered to him.

With the start of the penalty phase Wednesday, jurors began hearing about Danielle as a vibrant, young girl, rather than a silent victim known only by her DNA and fingerprints. Two of her teachers testified about her school habits. After regaining his composure, her father took the stand and recalled his only daughter as a spirited child who was as enthusiastic about helping him repair their car as about father-daughter dances.

The testimony is part of the prosecution's effort to convince the six men and six women of the jury to hand Westerfield a death sentence rather than life in prison without parole. Jurors deliberated nearly 40 hours over 10 days this month before finding Westerfield guilty of kidnapping Danielle from her room last February and killing her.

In a brief opening statement, prosecutor Jeff Dusek never mentioned the death penalty, but he told the panel, "You can give him what he wants or what is appropriate given the law and the facts."

Dusek told jurors they would gain disturbing insight into Westerfield's character. The prosecutor said a niece of Westerfield would testify that he molested her when she was 7. Dusek said the woman, now 19, would testify that Westerfield approached her while she was sleeping and put his fingers in her mouth while doing "something" with his hand in his shorts.

Defense lawyer Steven Feldman promised jurors they would hear from dozens of witnesses, including Westerfield's son and daughter, that the defendant had left "footprints" of good works during his life. He said that, as a medical design engineer, Westerfield, 50, had helped tens of thousands of people live better lives.

"We do not excuse the crime, there's no excuse," said Feldman. "But David Alan Westerfield is not the worst of the worst."

Feldman also urged jurors to give Westerfield a life sentence if they had any lingering doubt as to his guilt.

Westerfield, who showed virtually no reaction when the verdict was announced last week, displayed a similar lack of emotion as he listened to testimony Wednesday. He stared at the witnesses intently with his mouth clamped shut and his body shaking slightly as it has throughout the trial.

Jurors seemed to follow the testimony closely, but only a few took notes as the teachers and Damon van Dam recounted the day-to-day activities that filled Danielle's days. Those mundane details of a second-grader's life — learning to read "chapter books," taking piano lessons, going to Brownie meetings — seemed to take on enormous importance in the hushed courtroom.

Second-grade teacher Ruby Puntennay recalled her final conversation with Danielle, the Friday she went missing. Puntennay said Danielle promised she would complete an essay "about a memory she would never forget" by Monday.

"That Monday never came," said Puntennay.

Damon van Dam told jurors that Danielle's room is still preserved as she left it. Her brothers, Dylen and Derek, sometimes play video games among her toys and books.

"Do you ever go in there?" asked Dusek.

"Sometimes to talk to the boys, play with the boys. Sometimes at night to cry," he said.

He said his youngest son, Dylen, began wetting the bed after his sister went missing and still insists on sleeping with his older brother.

"We set the alarm, make sure everything's shut up tight, but they are still scared," said van Dam.

He said Danielle's ashes sit in a urn at the top of the stairs.

"Sometimes it seems like years since Feb. 2," he added. "Sometimes it seems like minutes."