Victims Speak

"Life is eternal; and love is immortal; and death is only a horizon; and a horizon is nothing save the limit of our sight."

- R. W. Raymond

I recently had the opportunity to correspond with dozens of members of the organization Parents of Murdered Children. Until now I had only rarely encountered such kind, resilient, caring people. I asked each of them to tell me their story, and with each new message in my email inbox, my heart broke a little more. These men and women, who have endured such horror, graciously thanked me for speaking with them, but it not I who deserve thanks. The parents, family members, and loved ones who shared their stories with me deserve the deepest gratitude and respect. I have promised to share each of their stories, and my hope is that through others reading them, those they have lost may be given new breath with which to speak. To all of you who shared with me, please accept my most sincere gratitude, admiration, and love. I only hope I have done justice to your loved ones' lives.


POMC is a wonderful organization. And I do agree with you that many times the victims family, friends, neighbors, etc. are forgotten about in the mist of the tragedy. My son Timmy was 15 years old when he was shot to the back of his head execution style on 7/13/07. I would not mind speaking to you, email works best for me as I work during the day and can get emotional when I speak about this horrendous part of my life. If you are interested in speaking with me please email me back and let me know. I have found that I have lost many friends, family, support, etc. after my son was murdered. It's almost like I have leprosy. People don't realize the pain that the family members continue to have long after a loved one, especially a child, has been brutally murdered. They think after time we should be over it, that time heals all wounds, that life goes on and so should you. Well, it's not always the case. If I have heard 'he is in a better place' one more time I might just scream. He is not with me and his family so how can that make me feel better? I also found that as the years go by and time goes by and you see his friends grow up, go to proms, learn to drive, etc. and my son will remain 15 forever. I will not see those things, I will not see him grow up to be a man, fall in love, get married or have his own children, I will not have grandchildren from my son. I would not mind at all to share my story with you regarding my son, he is a piece of my heart that has forever been ripped from me and I will always try and keep his memory alive one way or the other, I will never let him become a statistic as so many do. We are the only voices our children have.

Yes you said it best that we are the forgotten ones. Did you ever read a story in the paper or on the local news when a murder happens, you don't hear to much about the victim, mainly about the murderer. Then when they are caught and brought to trial, basically the whole story is about them, how bad a life they had, or were abused as children, or just brought up in the streets. Nothing about the victim, the victim's family and the pain and turmoil they must endure day in and day out, minute by minute, sometimes second by second. There are moms, dads, grandparents, aunts, uncles, nieces, nephews, siblings, cousins, friends and neighbors who all suffer with a violent act of crime. So why is it that these people are left to ponder what happens now? Where do we go from here?

We have not been to trial yet. I have a whole year to wait, my trial for my son does not start until November 29, 2010. My son was killed on Friday the 13th of July 2007. Each time a Friday the 13th passes, my whole being sinks inside itself. There is much superstitions about Friday the 13th so i's even harder for us to endure when it comes around, not that any day is less harder, just the stigma of this day makes I harder to bear.

So I'll tell you the story of my son. Timmy was 15 years old. He was a quiet, shy boy, he was a homebody who would rather hang out at the house with his friends then wonder the streets or hang on corners. He loved to play Xbox, he liked listening to music, working out with his brothers (at 15 he was 170 pounds 5'8" and could bench press more than his own brothers!) They would get so embarrassed they would leave the room because all their friends would tease them how their baby brother could lift more than they could. He also liked to jump on his trampoline with his friends, they would do crazy stunts that would make me wince. Come on mom watch what I could do, and I'd close my eyes, he would ask did you see that and I would say oh yeah but in reality I was to afraid to watch I couldn't bear to see if something happened to him!

Timmy was the sweetest boy you could ever meet, he had a big goofy grin, an addictive laugh and the biggest blue eyes ever. All the girls would always tell me how pretty his eyes were. He was kind and generous. He would offer a helping hand to any neighbor in need and never expect anything in return. His favorite holiday was Halloween, but loved Christmas just as much. He was born on December 31, 1991 so he was a New Year's Eve baby, I used to joke with him that no matter where he goes there will always be a celebration going on for his birthday since he was so lucky to be born on the day of all celebrations, you couldn�t beat that! He loved animals. He would bring home strays and beg me to keep them. We had so many pets, from hamsters, to fish, to guinea pigs, a dog and 2 cats. A third one he brought home had feline leukemia and we had to put him down, that broke his heart.

My oldest son had a friend named Damien. He and his girlfriend used to fight continuously. They had a baby together. He was black, she was white. (My family is white by the way) But he was friends with my son and he was a very respectfully person. He had asked my son if he could stay at my house once in a while since things were getting so bad with his girlfriend (he lived with her family). Of course we let him stay when he needed to. Damien did landscaping and during the summer he would have the younger kids help him out so they could earn some pocket money for the summer. My son was to go with him that Friday. So that night (Thursday July 12th) my son had fallen asleep but was woken up by one of his friends. When I went to bed it was around 10:30-10:45, he was on the computer. I told him not to stay up late and he said "I won't, I'm tired" then I said "good night baby cakes, sweet dreams, love ya." Never would I know they would be my last words to my son. Well if you knew Dame he loved to talk, he would talk your ear off, so he decided to show my son how to use the equipment that he had out back, it was getting late but I could see him now going over every aspect of each piece of equipment and how they would do what and when and where they would go. From my understanding, he asked my son to go to the store right around the corner from where we live. It was very late by this time, but Timmy had no fear of the neighborhood, we never had any problems, plus he was with an adult, (Damien was 26 y/o), plus it was summer and his friend already woke him up. So he asked Timmy to go to the store to buy some snacks for the night and for the next day. He also bought me an apple pie knowing how much I liked them. On their way home from the store, they were ambushed. They were forced to the ground on their knees and made to put their hands behind their heads. They were both shot execution style, my son died at the scene and Damien died two days later. (This is very hard for me to write as tears well up each time I go over this) so bear with me if I ramble. Anyway, I was woken up at 4:20AM. I was asked to come downstairs by my oldest son, he was with 2 other men. One I believe was a detective the other a neighbor. The detective was asking me questions like what was my name, my address, my home number and this whole time I kept thinking what the heck is going on here? So I finally said, what is this all about. No one said a word, so I demanded what the heck is going on here and MY SON, my oldest child, was the bravest one to tell his mother that her baby was just killed. Life ended that night, but I remember it vividly. I remember running around looking for my shoes, screaming they made a mistake, yelling for them to take me to my son and I'd prove it to them, where was he I demanded, I want to go see my baby, they are wrong. I was told down the street, as I ran outside I could see all the flashing lights of rescue and police. I started to head down that way still saying I want to see my baby, there is a mistake, I had three grown men hold me back and I struggled with them so hard that I fell to my knees scraping my knees up on the pavement. Finally with the look of lost and sadness in my son's eyes he said to me "please mom, don't go down there, I don't want you to see Timmy like that." I screamed out the loudest scream ever as from that point I realized it was the truth. I won't go into the next few days as there is not much I remember of them. I just know that no one was caught at the time and there were no leads. My friends, neighbors, and family rallied together. We needed to get up a reward fund. Can you believe this? Bereaved people have to raise money for their own child's reward fund? So we did car washes, we held benefits, I had kids who would ride up on their bikes and hand me change they had in their pockets. By his one year anniversary we raised $11,000.00, two months later 2 men were arrested in connection to the double murders. That was September 6, 2008, 14 months after my son was killed. Those men who 'allegedly' killed my son and my oldest son's friend was Damien's girlfriends brother and his brother in law. The reason is because they didn't like Damien as he was a black man, who had a baby with a white girl and was 'supposedly' flirting with the other white girls in the neighborhood. Witnesses described one of the 'alleged' murderers that "that n**** got what he deserved" and that little boy 'was to tie up loose ends' he was a 'casualty of war' leave no witnesses behind. My wonderful 15 year old sweet son who never would hurt a fly was killed because he was in the wrong place at the wrong time.

Well it has been 2 years 5 months now. I cannot go into much more details, first off I don't know much as I wasn't told a lot of things which is fine with me I will find out soon enough, but because the trial has not happened I can only say what is already known, most of the things I said was written in several newspapers in my area.

Also one other thing I'd like to say is that this time of year, December, with all the holidays ad everyone being cheerful and happy, it is not a happy time for us. There is someone missing, an empty chair at Thanksgiving, no presents to wrap and put under the tree, no more New Year's Eve birthday celebrations as my son will be 15 forever.

Well I can't go on anymore as I am already in tears writing this email to you. If there is more that you would like to know please get back to me. I may have missed things, I may have said more than what you needed to hear. But this is my son's story and I am his voice. I will never let my son be forgotten and I do as much as I can to keep his memory alive. Right now we are doing a Help the Homeless drive, and all donations of clothing, hats, gloves, etc. I will be taking to a shelter in honor of my sons memory. His light will shine on forever, though my heart is broken in pieces.

I have also attached a copy of his picture and below listed is three memorial sites I have established for him. The one I use the most is the site, the other two are sites I established in the beginning when everything was very raw for me.

Take care and thank you for listening. I'm sure there are many sad stories out there, I've met many wonderful moms who endure the same pain as I do, we help each other, we let each other know we are not alone, we are not crazy, and our children will always be with us no matter what. - Bette

Timmy Clark

Timmy Clark at the beach.

Timmy Clark Memorial

Timmy Clark

Timmy Clark Last Memories


My daughter, Stacey Lynne Seaton, was murdered June 1, 2005 in Bowie, MD. While I would have preferred to remain on the sidelines and let the police solve Stacey's murder, I quickly realized that had I not become pro-active, from the very beginning (they tried to say she died of a drug overdose, when she had been shot), her case would not have been solved. An arrest was made finally, two months ago -- after a lot of publicity and pressure. Thank you for your interest and compassion. - Gale

Stacey Lynne Seaton


My experience was about 25 years ago, and the murder victim was my sister-in-law. The man was convicted of murder. Lori was 18 years old and a joy to her family. I am not sure that it is my place to share this storyas she was not a blood relative, rather my husbands sister.

What I can tell you is that at the time there was no help available to us todeal with what had happened. Our marriage ultimately was destroyed andended in divorce. Les went into a deep depression and it is my opinion thathe never "came back" from that dark place he went to.

It was the most horrifying experience I have ever gone through and foreverchanged my life! Not only did I lose Lori, but I lost Les.

Murder is one of the darkest places a person can go to, it destroysfamilies, ends marriages, ruins individuals, and it touches lives endlessly;mother, father, brother, sister, and on and on and on. Murder is not achoice we made, nor was it a place we chose to go to; the decision was made by the murderer.

I have deep rooted opinions about how this changed the history of my life. I have deep rooted opinions on how murdered changed every single person in the Mann family. I often wonder what our lives would be like if Lori had not been taken from us, answers to questions that will be found. - Debbie


My daughter Liza Ellen Warner was 29 years old and a very successful hairstylist at an Albany, New York upscale salon. She had a natural talent for making her clients feel comfortable and beautiful. She was an expert colorist and stylist and had studied to become an educator at Bumble and Bumble in New York City 7 weeks before her murder. Liza was a beautiful woman inside and out. She had over 1,000 regular clients at the time of her death.

Liza met Russell when she was 17 and in high school. He was 29. He began controlling early on in their relationship. We were unaware that control was a sign of domestic violence. He told her she could quit school, move in with him and that I, as her mother could do nothing. I fought her decision and consulted with the local school authorities and our local police department and there was nothing legally I could do to stop her. They were married in October of 1999 when she was 24. I really believed that he adored her. She told me that she did not want to have children. She said she did not have maternal instinct. I believed that they had the perfect marriage. She had become a polished, refined, successful woman and he was still the immature, computer game playing man that he was when she met him. They bought a home and Liza was so excited to begin to do work on her home to make it a home that she could enjoy. However, he simply wanted to do nothing but work occasionally and play computer games. After almost 5 years of marriage, she was unhappy and decoded that her marriage was over. She consulted a divorce attorney and a counselor. She told Russell in early September, 2004 that she was unhappy and wanted them to consider couples counseling. At that point he asked her for a hug, and pushed her on the bed, tied her up and raped her and attempted to smother her with a pillow and his hand. She refused to press charges and never told me about the rape until ten days after it took place. The rape was on September 2nd. She packed up her things and moved into a hotel on September 17th. She would not come home or go to friends� homes. He became suicidal when he realized that she had left him. Liza helped him with admission to a local private psychiatric hospital and he spent 8 days there and was discharged on September 30th. In the meantime, Liza had moved back into her home feeling safe since he was in a secure facility. The day after his discharge, he went to a friend�s house, stole a 12 gauge shotgun, stopped at Lowe�s, bought buckshot and plastic zip ties, hid his jeep, and waited behind their barn until Liza had turned out the lights and gone upstairs to bed. He then made his move. He broke a bathroom window and then broke through the kitchen door, tearing the door off its hinges. She dialed 911. The dispatcher heard her say, my husband�s here, he has a gun and he is going to kill me. Then there was a disconnect. He shot Liza at close range in the right temple and she died instantly. The first responding trooper was at the front door. Russell pointed the gun in the trooper�s face and told him to leave. The trooper took cover. At that time Russell retreated back into the room where Liza lay dead and killed himself.

The days following her murder were horrible. Liza and I were so close and she was also very close to her Dad and stepmother. Her brother was devastated, so were her little nieces and her aunts and uncles. The whole family was shocked and devastated. The days leading up to the funeral were a blur. It seemed like all we did was go through the motions. We did have great support from family and friends, however. Over 2,000 people stood in line for an hour to an hour and a half to pay their respects at Liza�s wake. The church where Liza had been baptized and made her First Communion and where her funeral Mass was held was filled to capacity.

I was told about Parents of Murdered Children weeks after Liza�s death and went to my first meeting about a month after her murder. POMC has been my salvation. I am now co-leader of our local chapter and reach out to other parents whose Children have been murdered in an attempt to help them get through their grief as best as possible. I also have become a local activist in domestic violence circles. I have spoken at local schools at the high school level and will try to teach the students at middle school levels about the signs of domestic violence. None of our murdered children will come home to us but I feel that if I can help someone realize that they are in a bad relationship and possible save them from the fate that Liza suffered, then I will have accomplished a lot.

It is my goal for the remainder of my life to get the word out to students by telling Liza�s story and also keep her memory alive by doing so.

I have begun an organization in my daughter�s memory, Family and Friends of Liza Ellen Warner Association, Inc. which will raise funds to support local domestic violence programs and shelters. We are a fledgling organization and currently do not have a website up and running yet but are working on it. We are in the process of getting a facebook page for the organization and we are incorporated and have a federal ID number and are working on our 501c3. For photos of Liza google Liza Ellen Warner and there are many photos of Liza on You Tube from the time she was a little girl up until the last photo of her which was taken on September 10th , 3 weeks before her death. Her father has also begun an organization in South Carolina called Liza�s Lifeline of South Carolina and they do have a website. - Martha

Liza Ellen Warner

Liza's Lifeline of South Carolina

Liza's Legacy Website


My name is Carol Camp and I live in Libby Montana....tiny town close to Canada and Idaho border.

My Son, Clint Jones, was a victim in what they called "The Club Mexico Murders" in Wichita Kansas in July of 2003. A scum named Arturo Garcia owned the club. There were many players in the murders of my son and two brothers.....who Gracia killed within a week of each other. The boys bodies were chopped up and put in a freezer for over a month, and then taken out to a field in rural Ks and burned to pure ashes. The murders were actually done by Garcia, however, he had his "drug family" participate in all of it. There are so many details, and I just hit on a few. The most interesting of it all, is that a few weeks after the trial is when the BTK killer appeared again, and later caught. Nola Folston was the DA that prosecuted on both cases.....she was amazing. I figure the publicity that the Club Mexico murders got made him a bit jealous, so he came out of the woodwork.

So many of the players in this murder turn over state evidence and some got away with nothing but a slap on the hand.....others did spend so time, but not much in prison. Garcia got 2 counts of 1st degree, and one count of 2nd degree.....50 "Hard" years for each 1st degree, and I think 25 for the 2nd chance of parol. The laws in Kansas are really have to intentional kill 2 or more people (at one time) to get the death penalty........I can explain later how he was spared that. Anyway, I have buried so much of my feeling and fears of the past 6 years.....I guess I am only fooling myself........I call it my survival mode.

There was justice, and yet I feel like the other players should have gotten more for the gruesome participation on their part. - Carol


My son was murdered on the 15th of December 2007. His birthday is the 24th (Christmas Eve) December isn�t an easy month for us. He would have been 19 on his birthday but was killed 9 days before it, and 1 day before his sisters birthday of the 16th.

Let me first tell you about this murderers to get them out of the way. The shooter (18) had been out of jail only 12 hours. The planner (15) was my neighbor and unfortunately I still live next to the family and have had to deal with harassment from them. Mike�s murderers were free for three days. The 15 year old who knocked on the door and beat Mike�s friend, was not waived to adult court; he spent about a year in juvenile detention bragging he beat waiver until he was sent to the center where he will be released by the time he is 21. Warren Brown, who planned this, admitted his guilt and cooperated with police to put the other two in jail, took a plea and was waived to adult court, charged with Felony Robbery and sentenced to 20 years. Stone the shooter released on bond just hours before murdering my son made jokes on the stand as his family laughed. He denies ever being there or knowing the other two. He was found guilty and sentenced to 110 years in prison, but he is appealing. I'm mostly ok with the terms. I was very pleased with the shooters even if he only spends 55 years in prison I can live with that. Gary the one who was not waived I'm still upset with his term, he is a vicious person and showed no remorse, only bragged that he got away with it and will not be in jail more than a total of 6 years, my son�s term is permanent. Warren my neighbor, well I feel totally different about him. He took responsibility from the start, yes he got a plea but the whole point of him admitting guilt, and apologizing (it seemed that he really meant it) just feels differently. I'm ok with him getting out in 10 years, his part was the plan, nothing physical and he gave up and cooperated. I know this sounds weird but it�s how it feels.

This is my account of what happened from the conversation with the Detective, Prosecutor and sitting thru the trial:

Michael was shot during a robbery/home invasion but did not die until he was at the hospital about an hour later. Mike was watching Harry Potter when he answered the door around 5:00 p.m. on the 15th. There was a young man (15) at the door when he looked out so he opened the door, there were two others (15 & 18) wearing masks and gloves waiting off the side of the porch, when the door opened they rushed my son. The older one waved a gun in Mikes and his best friends face yelling at them to tell him where the guns were (My EX was a dealer and collector and they decided this would be a good way to make money quick) Mike's dad was sleeping and woke to the commotion, he came from down the hall. From David's (Mikes bf) account my EX didn't really believe that they were serious, when he realized they were he struggled for the gun, and was shot once in the chest at close range flinging him around and then shot once in the back, killing him almost instantly. When his dad was shot, Mike tried to jump in and save his dad and was shot once thru the side, cutting his aorta. He fell back on top of his dad where he lay asking for help and saying he couldn't breathe as the blood filled up his lungs. His attackers then turned on Mike's friend who was crouched in the corner, David tried to get Mike to tell him where the keys were to the locked closet, while Michael kept asking for help. I understand David was scared but my son was dying and it's really hard to get passed this. When Mike could not respond the two (15 year olds) dragged David to the back of the house beating him trying to get in the locked area to get the guns, while the 18 year old stood as a coward and look out in the living room, hearing my son dying on the floor. Choking in his own blood and asking for help. He must have been so scared and this feels me with rage and sadness all at the same time. I wish so hard that I could have been there to hold him, or take the bullet for him. After they left with what they could get a hold of, the friend tried to call for help. He made the mistake of grabbing Mikes cell phone though and didn't know the address, delaying help since the call couldn't be traced for address. Mike could be heard on the 911 call asking for help and saying he couldn't breathe, I know this from relatives and friends as I couldn't stay to listen to it, my heart broke over and over in that court room. During the trial I wanted to be there for Mike to try to stay strong and hold my head up for him so that the jury could see Mike was a good person and NEVER deserved this, but I couldn't handle finding out that he suffered for what must have seemed like hours to him before losing consciousness on the floor. OR that his attackers went on to rob them while Mike's life slipped away. I had to leave the courtroom a couple of times because I couldn�t hold back the tears and I wanted to scream! I prayed and prayed and still pray that Mike went quickly and that Jesus himself comforted him. I was so angry so sad so dead I can't begin to describe what it felt like. I talked to God, couldn't eat or drink for that matter for about 4 days and my family and friends kept trying to get me to. I don't remember much of those days except a few moments of drama from the EX�s family. I try to forget about all that and remember nothing but my son, he lost so much, we lost so much. Mike won't get any opportunities for college, the Marines (he was in the JR Marine ROTC at school) He won't ever get to marry, have kids, or travel. I will never be able to hug my son again, or say be careful Mike we love you. I didn't get to say goodbye to him. Mike had this silly thing he did, he would barge in the room and wave his hand very quickly and say hellllooooo in a very high pitched voice. I hear that in my head when I miss him most. I'm including a picture of him in a camo jacket at his last birthday party the year before he was murdered. He is waving at us and that is how I remember him most! I'm also including the picture of him that was taken from his cell phone the week before he was killed. He just dyed his red hair black :) He always did crazy things. I love my son so much! He wasn't always the easiest child, but I thank God for all the time he spent with us those last few months. I know not everyone believes in God but I do. I remember feeling so sad and like life was over and it came to me. God had to SEE his son tortured and killed, I didn't see it but I heard so much, God HAS to know what I feel like and understand my rage, my complete hopelessness, I prayed for God to give them his justice and not mine! Mine would not be merciful. - Brenda

Mike David Earl

Mike David Earl

Mike David Earl


His was the first born son of my first born son. He was tiny and wonderful and beautiful and he was was named Todd Allen Avery II. As he grew he had a sense of humor that would outshine the sun but a devislish streak that allows all beautiful little boys to get away with throwing rocks and scaring their little brothers in the dark of night. He was the second eldest of seven children. He left behind a family of two brothers and four sisters. He was born March 01, 1988 and these pics were taken just before he was murdered by his room mate. His killers name is Donald Patrick Pfiefer in Henrico County in Richmond VA on July 03, 2008. We called him little Todd since his Dad was big Todd and it was confusing to just call we all just called him little Todd tho he grew into a tall handsome young man of strength and wisdom and intelligence. I am not saying he was a saint..hardly..but he had learned much from his mistakes and had started dating in a serious relationship. He had gotten a good job and had learned from his mistakes. He came of age at 20 and knew what he had to do to become the man he wanted to be..a man like his Dad. His heart was good..his sense of humor sharp and quick and his desire to be more than what he had been high and wonderful and full. When he smiled he made you want to smile and when he cried God answered. Don Pfeifer only got 9 years in prison for murdering my grandson and the judge said it can be reduced to 7 on good behaviour. He has a new attorney I believe and is getting a new trial on appeal. His lawyer requested he be released on bail until his new trial but the judge denied that thank GOD. I asked POMC for assistance to help fight his right to early release but have gotten no help from them. Don Pfeifer admitted to the judge in open court that it was his shotgun..he loaded it and he forced Todd to put the barrel into his mouth..then with force he shoved it to the very back of my grandsons throat and pulled the trigger to (as he said) to teach Todd a lesson..though he never said what lesson he thought it would teach him. He has no right to freedom. He has no right to walk in the sunshine..breathe in fresh air or anything else...he is dirt as far as Im concerned and he gave up all rights to a normal life when he took the life of Todd. - Sandy




Still need help with our son's case...There was proof that the seat belts should of been on him, but they weren't on him...There's no way Ricky shot himself and than took the seat belt off...The shells he never would buy, were in the gun...Someone else's shells.... .Bless you...IN NEVADA - Rick and Josie

Please sign the petition if you believe Ricky's case deserves JUSTICE...

And this is more of the story, and you can search Ricky L. Dyer Jr.

We need help in proving this case...It needs JUSTICE

Real - Ricky Dyer

Ricky Lenn Dyer's Page


Mark and Sandra Legault's daughter was murdered by her boyfriend and the father of her child. Dolores's boyfriend, Michael Alcozer, kept her body in the trunk of his car, until it was discovered. Charged with concealing Dolores's body, he was paroled after fourteen months in prison. Alcozer was arrested for her murder after a tip lead police to a tape in which Alcozer confessed to Dolores's murder.

Dolores's Story Part I

Dolores's Story Part II


Ben Doran was beaten to death by two strangers on March 31st, 2003. His senseless murder resulted in the passing of Minnesota's 'Benny's Law', a law that gives no 'good time' for gang members who murder someone under the age of eighteen.

Ben was sixteen at the time of his death.

Ben Doran Foundation
Founded by Ben's mother Maggie and Rome Hanson


Katya was our granddaughter. Here is a copy from th Richmond, Va. Times Dispatch that they ran on Katya and ourselves. This is pretty self-explanitory. Laurie Hungerford was the District Attorney for Katya. We are sure if you were to contact Laurie, she would be able to fill in some of your questions. The court system in Santa Anna and all the people we worked with through the three years before Katyas case went to court were wonderful. These amazing people, from the district attorney, victums advicate, and the detectives, they all made our horrible ordeal much easier to work through.

POMC has been incredible to us also. We have a memorial stone in Katya's name in Brea, Ca. We went to the memorial in 2006. They always remember her on her birthday and on the day she was killed. The article will tell you the rest. - Mr. and Mrs. Roach

News Article

L.A. Times Article



Little Girl Lost:

Marsha Doke

This murder happened near my hometown, about a year before I was born.
It has haunted me for years, and I felt Marsha deserved a place here.

- Vanessa/Webmaster

Marsha Doke was dead before I was born. Of course I did not know Marsha, who would only live to the age of six, and I did not and do not know her family, but her life and brutal death has haunted me for more than a decade.

At the age of seventeen, while in bed suffering from a severe case of chicken pox, my mother gave me a book to read. The cover was coming apart and the pages were yellowing and curling with age. "Read this," she said, and handed over Helter Skelter, the classic retelling of the Charles Manson family murders. I read it within the space of a few days, and when finished turned back to the beginning and started reading it again. I was hooked, absolutely fascinated. Who committed such an act, and why?

My mother and I talked about the book, and as she realized my sincere interest she began telling me about a semi-local murder case that had occurred seventeen years prior. A little girl, she told me, was killed, dismembered, and somehow the parents were involved. The only major detail she remembered was the little girl's name, although Mom also said that when she worked at the local bank, the girl would come in to ask for suckers. She described her as cheerful and well behaved, a little blonde girl in glasses. The story was filed away in my head, but it refused to stay silent. I had to know more.

Flash forward thirteen years to 2009. I very carefully asked around about the Doke girl's murder, but if anyone knew any information they were less than forthcoming. I took to the internet and drew a blank. It was as if this child, and the story of her life and death, had simply vanished. Finally, I contacted one of my mother's former bank coworkers, who remembered Marsha and her family. Armed with this small amount of new information, I discussed the few details I had with my stepmother. She provided an invaluable resource by scouring her own mother's scrapbooks, which were filled with old Seneca, Missouri newspapers. It was through those newspapers that I learned the story of Marsha Doke.

I have spent more than ten years researching and writing about violent crime, particularly murder and the psychology behind it. These days there are very few cases that haunt me. The murder of Marsha Doke is one of them...the only one, really. She lived a short life and died a violent death, and while I know very little of her story, I do not want her to be forgotten. At the very least, she deserves that much.

Marsha was born in 1972 to Rex and Violet Doke. I know nothing of her early life, save for the fact that her father was killed in an electrical accident in February of 1978 near Seneca, Missouri. The now widowed Violet Doke soon took up with the man that was to be her common-law husband, a truck driver named Johnny Rounds. (According to news articles, Rounds and Mrs. Doke had been living together for about a year at the time of Marsha's death.)

At some point Rounds, Mrs. Doke, Marsha, her ten year old sister, and her two brothers, eight years old and a newborn, left the area. According to news reports they made it as far as Salem, MO. On January 31st, 1979, the family left Salem and arrived in Cleora, Oklahoma on February eleventh, at the home of Violet Doke's parents. Marsha was not with them. The girl's grandparents became "alarmed at the condition of Mrs. Doke's ten year old daughter....who appeared to have been beaten." (Seneca News Dispatch, March sixth, 1979.) The ten year old had been so severely beaten that she was admitted to Craig County General hospital, but not before she (and later, her brother,) told her grandparents that Marsha had been killed and her body disposed of in Missouri. Then girl and her brothers were taken into protective custody. Violet Doke voluntarily checked in to the Eastern State Hospital in Vinita, Oklahoma. She refused to speak of her daughter's whereabouts until an attorney was retained. Meanwhile, Johnny Rounds went on the lam.

Police searched the I-44 corridor from Salem, Missouri to Vinita, Oklahoma for Marsha Doke, who was missing and presumed dead. Weeks passed, and Violet Doke was released from the hospital and promptly arrested for failing to report Marsha's alleged death, despite having spent many three to four hour intervals away from Rounds while they were still in Salem. Before her extradition to the Dent County, Missouri county jail, Doke was charged with second degree murder.

A search for Marsha's body in Dent County proved fruitless, and authorities admitted that they were out of leads.

A fugitive from justice warrant was issued for Johnny Rounds. After the Newton County, Missouri Sheriff's Department convinced him to do so, Rounds surrendered on Valentine's Day to Ponca City, Oklahoma police. He was assigned a public defender, charged with second degree murder, and waited for extradition back to Missouri.

Finally, on February 27th, 1979, the dismembered body of Marsha Doke was found near Siloam Springs, Arkansas. Coupled with the prior history of abuse to the other children, I can only assume she was beaten to death. I have been told that she was decapitated and her limbs removed, although I do not know if this is true. I have also been told that animals scattered her remains, which may have aided in the discovery of her body. It was an ignoble, ugly death and I hope she did not suffer.

Johnny Rounds's charges were amended to capital murder, a charge which enables a Missouri jury to sentence a suspect to the death penalty.

And this is where the story ends. I do not know what became of Violet Doke, her remaining children, or Johnny Rounds. I do not know if they were offered plea bargains, if they are still incarcerated, or if they are free. I do know that in the winter of 1979 a six year old girl was brutally murdered and in a final insult, dismembered. These acts were committed by those who were supposed to protect and love her. No one, least of all a child, deserves such an end. I do not know what sort of childhood Marsha had. I hope it was happy, as a child's should be. Something tells me her last years were unkind.

Rex Doke, Marsha's father, is buried in Newkirk Cemetery, outside of Seneca. In January I happened to be at Newkirk for the burial of a friend. The wind was chill and a blanket of leaves covered the ground. Some of the gravestones were well kept, some in disrepair. It is a small cemetery, and due to the number of mourners at my friend's burial I stood in the back, near a row of flat headstones the wind had partially covered with leaves.

The service concluded, the mourners began to disperse. To allow others to pass by, I took a step backward and looked at the ground, dark with recent rain and orange with leaves. To my right rested a headstone, weathered with age. The name enscribed on it was Doke. I looked closer. Rex Doke - May 30th, 1948 - February 5th, 1978. I looked to my left. There, the corners of the stone partially hidden by leaves, lay Marsha, 1972 - 1979. After so many years of searching, I had found her, the lost little girl.

Or, if you believe in that sort of thing, she had found me.

By Cool Siloam's Shady Rill

By Reginald Heber

By cool Siloam's shady rill
How fair the lily grows!
How sweet the breath, beneath the hill,
Of Sharon's dewy rose!

Lo! such the child whose early feet
The paths of peace have trod,
Whose secret heart, with influence sweet,
Is upward drawn to God.

By cool Siloam's shady rill
The lily must decay;
The rose that blooms beneath the hill
Must shortly fade away.

And soon, too soon, the wintry hour
Of man's maturer age
Will shake the soul with sorrow's power
And stormy passion's rage.

O Thou Whose infant feet were found
Within Thy Father's shrine,
Whose years with changeless virtue crowned,
Were all alike divine.

Dependent on Thy bounteous breath,
We seek Thy grace alone,
In childhood, manhood, age, and death
To keep us still Thine own.

Thanks to Ich for the hymn

"Love as much as you can, by all the means you can,
in all the ways you can, in all the places you can,
at all the times you can, to all the people you can,
as long as ever you can."

- Anonymous

The following is a list of the victims of the serial killers, mass murderers, and others written about on this site. Names of the killers follow the list of victims attributed to them. The victims of Russian serial killer Andrei Chikatilo are not included, due to an unavailability of a complete list of victims. However, authorities attribute 52 to 55 murders to Chikatilo.

Wendy Lee Coffield, Debra Lynn Bonner, Cynthia Hinds, Opal Mills, Marcia Faye Chapman, Giselle Lovvorn, Terry Milligan, Mary Bridget Meehan, Debra Estes, Denise Bush, Shawnda Leea Summers, Shirley Sherrill, Colleen Brockman, Rebecca Marrero, Kase Lee, Linda Rule, Alma Smith, Delores Williams, Sandra Gabbert, Kimi-Kai Pitsor, Gail Matthews, Andrea Childers, Marie Malvar, Martina Authorlee, Cheryl Wims, Yvonne Antosh, Constance Naon, Carrie Ann Rois, Tammy Liles, 'Rose', Keli McGinness, Kelly Ware, Tine Thompson, Carol Ann Christensen, April Buttram, Debora Abernathy, Tracy Ann Winston, Maureen Feeney, Mary Sue Bello, Pammy Avent, Patricia Osborn, Delise Plager, Kimberly Nelson, Lisa Yates, Cindy Ann Smith, Mary Exzetta West, Patricia Barczak, Patricia Yellow Robe, Marta Reeves, Roberta Hayes, Jane Doe C-10, Jane Doe D-16, Jane Doe D-17, Jane Doe B-20 (Green River Killer), Voytek Frykowski, Abigail Folger, Steven Parent, Jay Sebring, Sharon Tate Polanski, Leno and Rosemary LaBianca (Charles Manson Family, including Charles Watson, Susan Atkins, Leslie Van Houten, and Patricia Krenwinkel), Donna Lauria, Jody Valenti (survived), Carl Denaro (survived), Rosemary Keenan, Donna DeMasi (survived), Joanne Lomino (survived), Christine Freund, John Diel (survived), Virginia Voskerichian, Valentina Suriani, Alexander Esau, Judy Placido (survived), Salvatore Lupo (survived), Stacy Moskowitz, Bobby Violante (survived) (Son of Sam), Lonnie Trumbull, Kathy Devine, Lynda Ann Healy, Donna Manson, Susan Rancourt, Brenda Baker, Brenda Ball, Georgeann Hawkins, Janice Ott, Denise Naslund, Kathy Parks, Nancy Wilcox, Melissa Smith, Laura Aimee, Debbie Kent, Susan Curtis, Nancy Baird, Debbie Smith, Caryn Campbell, Julie Cunningham, Denise Oliverson, Melanie Cooley, Shelley Robertson,Lynette Culver, Jane Doe, Lisa Levy, Margaret Bowman, Kimberly Ann Leach, Carol DeRonch (survived) (Ted Bundy), Mary Hogan, Bernice Worden (Ed Gein), Elizabeth Short (Unsolved crime), Michael Moore, Steven Branch, Christopher Byers, (Jessie Miskelley, Jason Baldwin, and Damien Echols convicted for crime), Brian Howe, Martin Brown (Mary Bell), Brian Deneke (Dustin Camp), Gracie Budd (Albert Fish), Steven Curnow, Kelly Fleming, Cory DePooter, Matthew Kechter, Daniel Rohrbough, Dave Sanders, Isaiah Shoels, John Tomlin, Cassie Bernall, Daniel Mauser, Lauren Townsend, Rachel Scott, Kyle Velasquez, Brian Anderson (survived), Richard Castaldo (survived), Nick Foss (survived), Jennifer Doyle (survived), Stephen Eubanks (survived), Sean Graves (survived), Makai Hall (survived), Ann Marie Hochhalter (survived), Patrick Ireland (survived), Joyce Jankowski (survived), Michael Johnson (survived), Mark Kintgen (survived), Lance Kirkland (survived), Lisa Kreutz (survived), Adam Kyler (survived), Patricia Nielsen (survived), Stephanie Munson (survived), Kacy Reusegger (survived), Jeanna Park (survived), Valeen Schnurr (survived), Evan Todd (survived), Charles Simmons (survived), Danny Steepleton (survived), Mark Taylor (survived) (Dylan Klebold and Eric Harris), Clarnell Kemper, Maude and Edmund Kemper Sr., Mary Ann Pesce, Anita Luchese, Aiko Koo, 'Cindy', 'Rosalind', 'Alice', Sara Hallett (Ed Kemper).

Out of the night that covers me,
Black as the Pit from pole to pole,
I thank whatever gods may be
For my unconquerable soul.

In the fell clutch of circumstance
I have not winced nor cried aloud.
Under the bludgeonings of chance
My head is bloody, but unbowed.

Beyond this place of wrath and tears
Looms but the Horror of the shade,
And yet the menace of the years
Finds, and shall find, me unafraid.

It matters not how strait the gate,
How charged with punishments the scroll,
I am the master of my fate:
I am the captain of my soul.

- 'Invictus'/William Ernest Henley

Thank you to all the families, friends, and loved ones who shared with me. I will never forget any of you. Blessings.