A woman who singled me out for a study buddy five years ago, shot and killed her husband last week. She has been charged with murder. At the time I knew her, she had a 13-year-old daughter and a drug-addict ex-husband. She was a nurse, worked at a nursing home, and was studying for her PhD in counseling. Apparently in the five years since, she married another man, and they were separated in August. And now she’s shot and killed him.
I am not going to say we were really “friends,” but we spent a lot of time together, including in her student housing apartment, studying for a really tough class. She decorated her living room and cooked dinner; she sure seemed to be on her way in life. She was soft-spoken and hard-working.
Altogether, I am less impressed with it all than it seems I ought to be. Does everyone come close to stories like this? I suspect almost everyone does.
I graduated from high school in 1977. Several members of my class have already died. One took his own life, plus those of his wife and children, in a multiple shooting in a shopping mall parking lot. Although he and I had lost touch with each other by then, we certainly knew each other, especially in elementary school.
I graduated in 2002. One member of my graduating class, who I knew in passing (he was a good friend of a friend of mine, we talked on occasion) died a few weeks ago; He was working for a roofing company and fell 40 feet onto a concrete floor.
A guy I occasionally used to work with was voluntarily killed and eaten. And he helped eat some of his own genitalia before dying. Here’s a thread about it.
One of Mrs. Kunilou’s former students, who also used to babysit for us, was convicted of robbing a store and killing the owner. He’s serving a life sentence.
Well, my wife grew up in the same town as and in fact used to baby-sit Jon-Benet Ramsey. FWIW, she insists that the Ramseys are among the nicest people in the world and she doesn’t for a minute believe that they were involved.
And on the too-close-to-home front, a bicyclist was struck and killed 200 yards from our house last night. We walked outside to have a cigarette and noticed the intersection was closed, cops everywhere, and they’d strung up Police Line-Do Not Cross tape.
It was pretty horrific - an SUV slammed into the bike at a pretty fast clip - the victim was gone when we got there, but the mangled bike was there, and some of the victim’s things, including a shoe and the bag he/she was carrying were laying on the pavement with little evidence markers next to them.
And according to the local news website there was another near fatal car-pedestrian accident the next street up at right around the same time.
We had a reality check last night, that’s for sure.
A kid who used to hang out with my youngest brother (and occasionally showed up to play with him at 6.30 am after being kicked out of the house by his parents :rolleyes: ) led two other teens in committing a gruesome double homicide when he was 13 years old.
On October 5 my son’s ex-opthomologist allegedly had my son’s current opthomologist murdered by a hit man.
The first eye doctor got busted a couple of years ago for prescription drug abuse, and suspended for a few months. The second eye doctor, Dr. David Brian Stidham, had been brought to town to partner with the first doctor, originally. The accused had stated that Dr. Stidham had “stolen” his patients while he was suspended, and wished him dead.
I know it seems like whenever an innocent person is murdered, people say they were special, they were saint-like, whatever. But this time it’s really true. Dr. Stidham was a gentle man, an excellent and highly regarded pediatric opthomologist, a graduate of Harvard Medical School, a husband and a father of two very young children. He was only 38. :mad:
We were having fairly civil political debates for about two hours until it slowly started dawning on me that they were skinheads. I propmtly shut my mouth but was stuck there for about two more hours because the guy I was with was blown out of his mind on cocaine and I didn’t have my car.
You’ll notice if you read the story that the murder took place before the night I was stuck with them, at least quadrupling the creep-out factor.
It was a creepy enough experience before I knew they were brutal killers, but now I damn near panic just thinking about it.
My sister’s (and my two neices’) gynocologist murdered his wife, apparently after she found out about his affair with a stripper. He beat her head against the marble floor of their bathroom and strangled her with his tie, which he left wrapped around her neck. Then he called the cops claiming someone had attacked her and begging them to come quickly. When they arrived, they found him wearing no shoes or socks, blood all over his suit, and no tie!
He’s doing life w/o parole and the judge who sentenced him said he’d have given him the death penalty if could have, but he couldn’t due to the degree of murder the doctor had been charged with.
Also, John Hinkley, the would-be assassin of Ronald Reagan, is my ex-wife’s cousin.
My aunt went to high school with the guy who assassinated Robert Kennedy. My mom’s family was also good friends with another non-related Kennedy family at the time.
Yup. When me and my family first moved to Florida, we became good friends with a family down the street. Me and my brother became aquainted with the two kids who were the same age as us, and my mom became pretty social with both parents. Our friends parents were pretty wealthy, probably the richest in the entire neigborhood. The man of the house worked for a church, and the woman worked for an adoption agency. They were pretty nice people, both with short tempers. However, they were quite generous. They once brought me with them to Water Mania, a waterpark, and my brother got to tag along on camping trips and even cruises.
Five years pass by, and the mother of the family is found dead by her mother’s pool; a pool I onced swam in. We all thought this was very unfortunate, and we attented the funeral and gave our sympathy and hugs. Around the same time, there was some speculation going around about another person or two associated with said mother dying. Some thought she was guilty of murder. Well, a month or two after the funeral, it’s discovered that this family has stolen tens of thousands of dollars from their adoption agency, and further evidence pushed forth the notion that she was a killer, and had killed people close to her in work because they were going to uncover her as a theif. This is a woman whose house I’ve spent the night at several times, so it’s pretty strange.
If we were going to give out awards for the most extreme account, I’d say that Revtim would win, hands down. :eek:
One of my old friends, when he was a young man, hitchhiked around California and was picked up by this hippie commune. He hung out with them for a bit. They seemed okay. The head hippie liked to write songs, and all the other hippies looked up to him a great deal.
My friend discovered later that this hippie commune was the Manson Family. Of course, this happened some time before the murders.
This same friend also once went out with Sal Mineo, a few weeks before Mineo was murdered.
A family lived in the basement apartment of a place where I lived in the attic. They were always doing cookouts in the back yard so I got to know them pretty well–Rosemary, Raymond, and their two daughters, in a really small apartment, and they were all always there.
I had known them for a few months when there was a string of bank robberies, and one day the newspaper I worked for (I was a copy editor, not a reporter–you will probably be able to guess why in a minute) ran one of those really scary looking police artist sketches. Except for looking scary, though, it sort of looked like Raymond–who was actually more of a teddy bear type. I happened to see Rosemary, and I mentioned that–pretty innocuous, something like, “it’s funny how that police sketch in the paper kind of looked like Raymond.” Then it occurred to me that (a) I hadn’t seen Raymond lately, and (b) Rosemary was obviously packing up for a move. (Do I have a nose for news, or what?)
Of course I couldn’t unsay it.
But Rosemary was pretty cool. In response to my dumb and unthinking comment she merely said, “Yeah, it is. Funny. It did kind of look like him.”
Of course by then I was wondering, “Where IS Raymond, anyway?” But at that point I kept my mouth shut. (How could I turn this into a news story?)
Next day Rosemary and the kids were gone and I never saw them again.
Og! Reading this thread was exhausting, draining ( I of course kept reading without a gun to my head :rolleyes: )
Revtim, by far, has a connection to the most extreme of extremes, but Cisco’s story is the one that scared the bejeezus out of me. Frightening possibilities. Glad you are still here to post it, Cisco .
A while ago, we had the Camden Town suitcase murder. Basically, some bloke killed a woman, hid her torso in a suitcase, and dumped said suitcase into the canal at Camden, and various other body parts belonging to said woman.
The murderer was one of my cousin’s best friends. :eek: