Tesla faces mounting scrutiny as the suit cites dozens of prior door malfunctions, accusing the company of knowingly selling vehicles with unsafe emergency egress systems.

 

Krysta Tsukahara smiling and holding a menu at an outdoor restaurant.

 

In what may become one of the most damning lawsuits against Tesla to date, the parents of 19‑year‑old Krysta Tsukahara say their daughter survived the initial crash last November — only to be burned alive, trapped inside a malfunctioning Cybertruck that refused to open its doors.

In court documents filed this week in Alameda County, Krysta’s family lays out a horrific scenario: their daughter, fully conscious and calling for help, perished because the vehicle’s electric doors failed the moment power was cut.

The Tsukaharas are demanding answers — and accountability from a company they say knowingly sold a deathtrap.

On the night of November 27, 2024, Krysta and three friends were riding in a Tesla Cybertruck driven by 19‑year‑old Soren Dixon through Piedmont, California.

According to the lawsuit, Dixon’s vehicle smashed into a wall and tree at high speed, igniting a fire that engulfed the metal cabin.

 

Driver Soren Dixon, 19, was also killed in last November's crash.

 

Dixon and passenger Jack Nelson, 20, were killed in the blaze, while the fourth passenger, Jordan Miller, escaped only after a stranger smashed in the windshield and dragged him out

. But Krysta, who reportedly sustained only minor injuries in the impact, was left behind — her path to escape blocked by a system designed to fail in just such a moment.

“She actually survived the crash,” said her father, Carl Tsukahara, in a statement. “She called out for help, and she couldn’t get out.”

The lawsuit contends that once the vehicle’s battery lost power, the Cybertruck’s electronic door latches became unresponsive. Without a clear, accessible manual override, Krysta had no way to exit the burning car.

The suit argues that Tesla’s signature door mechanism — flush, push‑button and electronic — is inherently flawed, especially in emergencies, and that the manual release cable concealed under a rubber mat is too hidden for practical use under duress.

 

Jack Nelson pictured in his lacrosse recruitment profile, wearing a purple "Piedmont" jersey and holding a lacrosse stick.

 

Attorney Roger Dreyer, representing the Tsukahara family, described the case as a “horror story” in which a young woman was denied escape by the very machine meant to protect her.

“Tesla knows it’s happened before. They know it will happen again. Yet they continue to market vehicles that can entomb their occupants when power fails. This was entirely preventable,” Dreyer said.

The filing cites more than 30 prior incidents involving Tesla door failures and claims the company has long ignored the risks.

Tesla has not formally responded to the lawsuit, but the company is no stranger to legal scars. Earlier this year, federal regulators opened an investigation into electronic door‑lock malfunctions in the Tesla Model Y.

Meanwhile, the Cybertruck itself has already been hit with multiple recalls and safety concerns since its debut. Critics say the electric carmaker has pushed cutting-edge designs without sufficient failsafe planning for what happens when the power is gone.

The Tsukahara complaint also names Dixon’s estate — with toxicology reports indicating Dixon was under the influence of alcohol, cocaine, and amphetamines at the time of the crash — and the registered owner of the truck, Charles Patterson.

The family is fighting for access to the vehicle, data logs, and internal design documents Tesla has declined to release. “They’re shielding everything,” Dreyer said. “We need the full story — the what, the why, and the who.”

 

A damaged Tesla Cybertruck after a crash.

 

Local law enforcement added context: the California Highway Patrol cites speed and impairment as contributing factors. But the Tsukahara lawsuit pushes the discussion beyond driver blame.

“This isn’t just about reckless behavior. This is about a system that fails ordinary people at their worst moment,” Carl Tsukahara said. “Tesla is worth hundreds of billions. How can you sell a machine that, when it crashes, becomes a tomb?”

For the Tsukaharas, the stakes are deeply personal. Krysta was a student at the Savannah College of Art and Design, visiting home for Thanksgiving break when disaster struck.

Friends describe her as bright, kind, and full of promise — the kind of young woman whose whole life lay ahead.

“We’ve had to endure not just her death, but the silence about how it happened,” said Noelle Tsukahara, Krysta’s mother. “To this day, we don’t know what made the fire start. We don’t know why she couldn’t open the door.”

As the lawsuit proceeds, the case stands poised to challenge not just one vehicle design but Tesla’s willingness to accept risk in the name of innovation.

If the Tsukahara family prevails, it could prompt sweeping changes in emergency egress standards and force automakers to ensure that, in the worst moments, doors don’t betray those they were meant to protect.