Raychel was
murdered on the night of August 17, 2000. For the first few months I referred to it only as, "That
day." But that was only when I had to talk about it.
During those
months, I made every effort to avoid the subject entirely. My
friends tried to get me to talk about it, but I shut them out. I
know that many people say we all need to talk about our feelings and
express our grief, but at the time I wasn't able to. It wasn't
until the end of the year that I began to address these feelings about
her. That was one of the reasons I created the Painseeker
web site.
When I
created this site, my intention was to focus on the gifts she gave to us
in her work as a poet. Additionally, I wanted others who knew her
to supplement that material with their own memories of experiences with
Raychel. That was it. I never intended to write about her
murder, fearing that the site would degenerate into a morass of innuendo
and half truths about Raychel's unsolved murder. That would be a
disservice to Raychel's memory.
However,
completely avoiding the subject of her murder seems to do an equal
disservice to Raychel's memory. While I understand that I am
walking a fine line of hypocrisy in divulging this information, I feel
that it is important to cover the basic events leading up to her murder,
and even some of the more graphic details. To ignore her death is
to ignore her life and the significant impact she has had on so many
others.
I must admit
that I still have a great deal of difficulty dealing with the pain
surrounded by that day. However, the root of this pain is
not what you may be thinking. I expect that you may be imagining
the horror I experienced when I discovered the mutilated body of my
wife. Perhaps you see me clutching her body to me in grief with
tears streaming down my face. But this pain which has remained
with me stems from the fact that I never had that opportunity. I
had not even seen her on that day. Raychel and I had been
estranged for some time before her murder.
So I was not
the one who found her or the one who reported her death to the
police. I was not even officially notified of her death by the
police. In fact, I did not get to see her until her funeral.
Worse, the last words spoken between us were in anger. If anyone
learns anything from my scribblings, please learn from this. So
many people make the mistake of taking time for granted. We think
that we have all the time in the world to right our wrongs and we become
selfish and demanding by this oversight. We tread on those we love
for short-sighted gains. But time doesn't forgive or grant
"do overs." If you love someone, remember you love them
-- always. Then, tell them you love them, and live your life
knowing that.
|
"I
would like to point out that I do not know all of the details of
Raychel's homicide investigation. I expect that the police are
keeping their investigation quiet so as to protect the integrity of
their evidence and testimony of those people who have been
questioned." |
During our
estrangement Raychel had been living with Kyle McAllister, a musician
who had convinced Raychel that her poetry could be turned into
music. While I might have agreed with this in principle, nothing
could have been worse than for her to collaborate with McAllister.
He is a competent musician; however, his domineering and violent
personality make him impossible for others to deal with.
McAllister is a divisive person, and he used his skills to alienate
Raychel from all of her friends to help serve his goal.
In the six
months prior to her death, Raychel and McAllister had been working on an
album at a small independent recording label called Terror Trax.
Since coming under McAllister's spell Raychel had kept only brief
contact with me. Therefore I do not know how their album was
progressing. I have heard things about it, but I will defer
comment unless I receive articles from others involved in the
process. As I said, I will not treat innuendos as facts here.
These are
the facts of the day of Raychel's murder as I currently understand
them. I would like to point out that I do not know all of the
details of Raychel's homicide investigation. I expect that the
police are keeping their investigation quiet so as to protect the
integrity of their evidence and testimony of those people who have been
questioned. But I have been able to confirm this sequence of
events through exchanges with the police and their own questions to me
during the course of the investigation.
For the
majority of the day, Raychel had been working on the album at Terror
Trax with McAllister and others. A violent argument occurred at
the studio in the late afternoon between several people -- this has been
confirmed by those who were there at the time, and the police. The
planned evening session was scrapped as a result and the individuals
went their separate ways at approximately 7:00 p.m.
As a matter
of note, I would like to admit my own whereabouts into the record at
this time. I was at home, alone, writing from 6:00 p.m. until well
past midnight -- as is my custom. As I was alone, no one is able
to verify this statement. I understand that an admission of this
kind exposes me to a certain amount of scrutiny as a suspect in
Raychel's murder investigation. I freely admit that I was
contacted by the police early in the investigation. As her husband
and a person with no verifiable alibi, I would make a prime
suspect. However, my dealings with the police lead me to believe
that I have been ruled out as a suspect. For what reason I do not
know.
|
"I
blame Kyle McAllister for her death. Even if he did not commit
the crime, he was the one who put her in harm's way. He was
the one who took her from me and others who loved her." |
Returning to
the events leading to Raychel's murder, police were called to Kyle
McAllister's apartment by Kyle at 12:30 a.m. on August 18, approximately
one to one and a half hours after her estimated time of death.
Police state that Raychel had been involved in an extensive and violent
struggle. Her death came as a result of extensive blood loss,
having been stabbed 23 times. While the inside of the room was a
wreck, there were no signs of forced entry to the apartment door or
windows. Another note of significance was that the police believe
that the attacker attempted to either hide or move Raychel, but aborted
the project, choosing instead to leave her in the apartment.
There is one
other fact that I believe: Had Raychel and I never spoken those
final harsh words to one another, she would still be alive. But I
do not blame myself for her death. As I stated in
my
10 question responses, I blame Kyle McAllister for her death.
Even if he did not commit the crime, he was the one who put her in
harm's way. He was the one who took her from me and others who
loved her. And he wasted her talents on his trivial
pursuits. Now she is dead, and he is responsible.
While I
cannot prove that McAllister himself murdered her in a fit of rage, I
can personally attest to the fact that he does have a violent temperament
(We had several run-ins in the past). Should you feel that my
testimony is biased, know this: Neighbors in several other
apartments heard the sounds of the struggle, but did not report the
matter to the police. Upon questioning by police, many neighbors
said that the sounds were not unlike those heard during numerous other occurrences
in the recent past. Though no charges have ever been filed against
McAllister from those previous events, officers I have spoken to admit
that they have come to that door several times with complaints about
disturbances.
Raychel's
death devastated me. For months afterward I was despondent and
uncommunicative. It was like losing a limb. But there is no reassuring
phantom pain to relieve the agony of a broken heart. I was not
experienced in real love until I met her. That being said, I do
not have the emotional experience in partings or endings of
relationships. I had never lost someone or something I loved
before. I didn't know how to deal with it. Sometimes I still
question whether I am dealing with it or just using it.
In tribute
to her love, I built this
web site to make her live again, and to share her talents with a world
which never had the opportunity to discover her as I had. Maybe
Raychel would think it's pathetic, this dwelling on the past and a
person loved and lost. But maybe again, she would have understood
this expression of love from me to her. I like to think that
wherever she is she can see these words, or maybe somehow feel
them. Then perhaps our last argument those many months ago could
be purged by a simple series of expressions shared by so many.
Words I never had the opportunity to say.
Raychel, I'm
sorry. I love you. I miss you.
