Honesty--the Best Policy (2000)

Honesty--The Best Policy  
by Teraisa J. Goldman
 
The U-Haul Murders: True Crime and Capital Punishment, my book in progress, has brutal crimes in it. Try to imagine being one of the victims surviving family member. How would you feel if someone you never knew came up and asked you personal questions that required you to remember things you didn't want to; memories so painful, they set you back two weeks when you do think about them.  

Three years I would search for Clarence and Betty Crawford. The entire time, I knew they may close the door in my face once they met me and realized I was writing about their daughter, Peggy, her life, and her barbaric death. Although I had already interviewed about 100 people and I could still write the story, but it wouldn't mean as much to me, or the reader, without knowing more about Peggy.
 
Writing letters is the most effective way to let people know what you are doing, especially when the writing is of this nature. It gives them time to grasp what is going on. If their first thought is to say "no," it gives them the chance to change their mind--and vice versa. It gives them the chance to not be caught off guard, and then to be mad because they never had a chance to gain control of themselves or their emotions.
 
I began my investigation for the book by reading newspaper accounts of the crimes. Because of pressing deadlines, news journalists often don't have the time they need to make sure the facts are correct. But, in general, they have great informational leads. I used these news articles when I first began my search for the Crawfords. Letters came back, marked "address unknown" and "return to sender."
 
I never gave up completely, but I just could not find this family. I searched the Internet, reread court documents, transcripts and newspapers. I also asked anyone that might even remotely have any information about them and their whereabouts. Nothing--or nothing new, I should say.
I continued interviewing and writing, but every other week, I would sit and wonder how I was going to find Peggy's family. And every week, I gave up, temporarily.
 
During an interview, I learned the Crawfords had moved to my state of Nevada, and in fact, lived near me! Excitedly, I wrote a new letter to the family listed in the phone book.
Two weeks later, I received the letter back: "no such address."
 
That night happened to be the night of a state execution, the first in Nevada since 1996, and the seventh since the United States Supreme Court reinstated the death penalty in the 1970's. Although it was a different crime, I realized by attending the execution (outside the gates), I could use the experience and feelings in my book.
 
To make a long story short, there were two groups standing outside the prison, protesters and people with candles, standing in memory of the soon-to-be executed's victims.
 
I felt a tremendous pull to the side of the memories, although my curiosity wanted me to check out the protesters. With tears in my eyes, and more emotion pouring from my heart than I could ever understand, I walked to the small group of candle holders and intruded. A man put his arm around me and asked if I was okay. I was shocked. I wanted to know if they were okay. He comforted me, while I explained why I was there. It turned out they were all family members of loved ones that had been killed by violence.
 
"Have you met Betty and Clarence Crawford?" he asked. He stepped back and let me see what three years of searching could not produce for me. Next, he introduced me to the nicest people you could ever want to meet.
 
I was not rude, I did not try to get information. However, I did tell them the truth, that I was a writer and that I had been looking for them. We exchanged phone numbers, addresses and hugs. A bond between us formed that night.
 
As soon as I got home, I sent them the original letter. Although we had talked on the phone, and everything was good between us, after they received the letter I did not hear from them for three weeks. I had their number, but I refused to intrude again, without their blessings. They are more to me than a story, they are humans, and humans mean much more to me than that.
 
Finally, a call! Clarence called and apologized. He had a difficult time, but he wanted me to write the story. All of it. He wanted me to have all the information I needed. He and Betty came to this conclusion because they liked the difference between me and reporters sticking microphones in their faces, then twisting their words around until they are unrecognizable. They appreciate that their daughter and her story matter to me.
 
I smile, because they know me well. I was scared to tell them what I wanted, but I was honest, and I was myself. And in the end... that's what always prevails.

Inconceivable Acts: Could This Be Me? (1999)

Could This Be Me?
 by Teraisa J.  Goldman
 
Imagine my surprise--horror, really--to find I have the same type of tendencies as Richard Daniel Starrett (Danny), a serial criminal serving five life sentences or more.

Here is a young man, raised in a good home by a traditional moral two-parent family. His parents show love in front of the children and have enviable careers. Except for headaches, there is nothing wrong nor unusual about Danny. He is the favorite child of his parents and his siblings.

Yet, a day came when his family got a call they will never forget. Danny was a fugitive and wanted by the police for kidnapping and rape (later they would learn there were several of these crimes committed, as well as murder).

Danny was married and had a daughter. He worked hard and made good money. What went wrong? His subsequent arrest and confession surprised and shocked his entire family. A Stranger In the Family, written by Steven Naifeh and Gregory White Smith (authors of The Mormon Murders *) was not the most memorable book I ever read, but it was the one that most made me identify with the bad guy.

This is scary. Normally, when reading, I may think I am a bit of an oddball simply for enjoying a well written crime book, but to identify with a killer? Oh boy!

Many times, we can place ourselves in the victim's shoes and ask questions--what would I have done? What could have been done differently? But how often do we put ourselves in the criminal's shoes? Rarely, I bet.

You know why? Because to do so would be admitting we could do something heinous like torture or kill. And we would not do that. We could not. Right?

I am not so sure anymore. While I do not think there are many people such as Danny in this world (a possible multiple personality disorder and definitely obsessive compulsive person), I do believe we all have the capability in us to commit serious criminal acts.

Think back to the Donner Party or the doomed soccer players trapped in the snow and wilderness, death staring them in the eyes while the bodies of their dead friends are close by. Death by hunger is eminent and lingering heavily. Nothing could convince me any ONE of these people would have ever thought they could do the unthinkable and eat the flesh of another human (much less a human they knew) a month before it actually happened. But they did, and by doing so, they saved their own lives.

I know under normal circumstances and conditions I would never dine on my friends to save my life, even if they are dead. But those are not ordinary times. Situations develop and happen.

"Teraisa," you say, "you are talking about something different. Those weren't crimes."

True. But they are inconceivable acts.

How about this scenario: A woman kills a man while he rapes her. Or: a stranger enters your house and creeps into your children's room. Startled and alerted to the intrusion, you load your gun...

As you are forced to defend yourself, you can suddenly become a killer. A forgivable one, but a killer nonetheless, by doing the inconceivable.

By using these particular stories of cannibalism and self defense, I am merely showing you it is possible to do the unthinkable.

"To save your life, sure, that's another story altogether," you point out. "It's still not the same."

You are right. It is not the same. We are driven to the same conclusions, though, as the murderer when the situation calls for it and when we can justify it.

This is what makes and keeps us different. We can commit the most inconceivable acts, but only under the right circumstances.

But as I read this book, I found something else that made me like Danny. Danny said he did not want to do these things, he explained that he had to do them. At first, his crimes seem to be an uncontrollable impulse, but later in the book, he lets us in on his other personality. Do not worry, I do not have another being living in me (I doubt Danny does, either), but I do have uncontrollable impulses.

I have to work at all times. If I am at a red light, I sort through my mail. A wait at the doctor's office allows me to balance my checkbook. Forget television, I cannot sit still long enough... unless I am folding laundry or writing a letter, that is. And yes, I am the person you heard about who makes lists of things to do while in the throes of passion.

It drives my family crazy. It drives me crazy. I tried to be different, but learned it was easier to live with it than to fight it.

So, now, I have to wonder, I know I am capable of committing inconceivable acts and I am aware I am obsessive compulsive. Could I have done what Danny did?

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The Author notes:

I would never kill anyone unless in self defense, or in defense of another human being. I believe those that kill for any other reason must have a psychopathic disorder (AKA sociopath). 

Psychopaths know right from wrong, but consciously they choose to follow a sinister path. Their crimes are often likened to a sport and decidedly NOT defense. The real difference between he and myself--or you? We are not morally insane.

*This is an excellent book, the information revealed in it caught me by surprise.