What If?

I don't generally post videos on here. However, tonight I viewed Amanda Palmer's version of "Polly" (a Nirvana song written about the abduction, torture, and rape in 1987 of a 14-year-old girl by Gerald Arthur Friend) and was left a tad bit emotional. Please watch the video before reading on; just so we are on the same page:



I burst into tears when the video ended and found myself watching it, yet again. At first, I couldn't quite pinpoint the reason behind the heavy emotions. The video is indeed powerful, in my opinion, but the reaction I had was clearly triggered by something deeper. Shortly after, it hit me... I was crying for my mom and what her last moments on Earth must have been like.

I know her life with her second husband was horribly abusive and humiliating. I lived with them for some time before he killed her and it was a terrifying chapter in my own life. I managed to escape several months before he murdered her and I still wonder what would have happened if I had still been living there at that time? Would you be reading my words today?

I still don't know the full details of that day. All I have are newspaper clippings and bits and pieces I have learned from his parole hearing transcipts. None of them follow the same story and chances are I will never really know what exactly happened. Maybe that is for the better; but maybe the visions I have are more horrific than the reality of it. I don't know. I do know that he was a very sick individual and he enjoyed causing pain--physically, emotionally--he thrived on the pain he brought to animals... to humans... to my mother.

What I do know about that day, in the very condensed version, is that it started out with him and his best friend taking my mom out to a rifle range and it ended with him shooting her twice. He and his friend then threw her body in a ravine, covered it with garbage and proceeded to get rid of the van. They drove over 70 miles to an area that they thought the van would be stolen in and left it running with the keys in it. They then drove the 30ish miles back to the apartment they shared with my mom, bagged the majority of her possessions and threw them out with the garbage. They went to bed and my mother's husband/murderer got up the next morning and proceeded to his classes as though nothing happened. However, while he was in class, his best friend/accomplice went to the police and confessed. Again, that's the very condensed version. But in reality, these are the parts I am pretty sure of--these parts of the story don't change.

What I don't know is, what my mother's last moments were like. I imagine the terror. Did they torture her first? Did they rape her? I wonder whether they made it a game and humiliated her during the trip? I lived with them, also. I know what life was like for her. I know how sadistic he was and how his friends would encourage him to "take it that extra step." More than once, his best friend encouraged him to "Do it. Just kill her." How many times had I heard them plot "the Perfect Murder" and joke that they couldn't get caught? They bragged that even if they did get caught, insanity was an easy defense. No fear on their end.

I know the first shot was to her neck. The second one was to her left eye as she was lying face up on the ground. She was facing him and looking at him both times that he pulled the trigger. What were the minutes and hours leading up to this like for her? To face the man she loved and gave up her children for and know that he was going to end her life? Maybe I am blessed for not knowing the rest.

She tried to leave him many times. She went to the police, at least once, trying to get protection. They told her that until he caused her physical damage they could do nothing. Two days before he murdered her, they visited an attorney to have a legal division of their personal belongings drawn up in the event of divorce. And I apologize. Me and my tangents... What does this have to do with Amanda Palmer?

After watching the Amanda Palmer video, I wondered so many "What Ifs." What if they hadn't been in a secluded area? What if another car had come along? Would she have tried to escape? Would she have been too frightened? Would she still be alive? What if she were still alive today? Who would she be? Who would I be? You laugh, but nineteen years is a long time. Losing a mother is quite devastating to begin with. It changes a person. Losing anyone to murder changes a person, let alone a parent. I am quite sure that I would not be who I am today without having those many events that shaped me--including my own time spent in their "fun house."

These "what ifs" generally are not healthy because we can't change the events and often they increase our suffering, guilt, and other negative feelings. We never understand the reasons when tragedy strikes in our lives. How do we make sense of events like this? Why couldn't he just let her go? She had three children that loved and needed her in their lives. Wasn't that enough reason to permit her to live?

What if somebody else had happened along that road that day? Maybe that person would have lost their life, too. Who is to say? But what if, somebody had come along and she had gotten away? The police would never have believed her story. Regardless, nothing would have or even could have been done.

But let's just say, none of that ever happened. He went his way, she went hers. How many other lives might he have damaged over the past nineteen years? How many more children would he have abused? How many more women would he have beaten, humiliated, and tortured? How many more animals? They bragged that they had beaten and killed homeless people before. I saw other things they did. I do not doubt these boasts. Would they have eventually had the girls that they wanted chained in the basement? What might nineteen more years in society have led to?

Maybe my mom's life ending saved countless others? Again, you laugh. Again, I say, I lived with him. I saw the things that they did. I know the things they were capable of and enjoyed. I can't imagine how much more damage he might have done over the past nineteen years. He was only twenty-four when he killed my mother and went to prison. I saw him do a lot of damage, to numerous lives, over the two and a half years that I knew him. Laugh, but you truly have no idea. And how are we to know? Maybe her death did prevent others. At the very least, it has prevented harm and abuse in other lives. Maybe it is the only justice I can find in the situation. Maybe nineteen years later, I still ask WHY???

*END NOTE: In case you are finding yourself confused by some of my pronoun use--only my mother's husband/murderer was put in prison. He has come up for parole numerous times but is still currently serving his sentence. His friend that "participated" in the event never served a day due to being the one that went to the police. To the best of my knowledge, he still walks the streets. "They" often participated in these events together, although there were often many other people involved in the animal torture, abuse and deaths, too. But when I refer to "they" it is in reference to the two individuals that last saw my mother alive, her husband and his best friend.