Almost like a water torture....
This morning I left my house at 5:55 and drove 112 miles east to Rawlins. I had an 8:30 appointment with the BOP. It has been almost 18 years since Beckie's murder and I finally felt strong enough to go and present my concerns to the Parole Board about Beckie's killer.
First I stopped at a Quik Mart and bought myself a giant cup of coffee with yummy creamer and managed to dump it down the front of my new red sweater. Then I went to the court house and found my long time friend, Loretta who is also a victim's advocate and then we walked three blocks to the BOP office.
I had been told that the only appointment that I could have was the 8:30 slot because they had to be out at the Pen by 9:00. I waited until 9:30 before I was ushered into the board room.
I was greeted by three friendly faces, two of which were familiar to me. I have been in the work of victim services for 14 years and have met many wonderful people along the way, two of which sat at the table in front of me.
I was treated with courtesy and respect. The Board asked me what my concerns were and I told them everything my family and I have been going through for the last couple of years. I took documents which the killer produced and distributed statewide about the slayings. The Board was appalled and surprised but grateful that I gave them copies.
To make a long story short, Beckie's killer will not be considered for commutation in the near future. After the meeting was over, I walked out of there feeling like a load of bricks had been lifted from my shoulders.
Even though it has been almost 18 years, going through the pain and process does not get any easier. I used to receive the Parole Hearing Notifications on my birthday until I requested that they send them a day or two later so they didn't arrive then. It seems the killer keeps attempting to have his name in the media looking for notoriety and just won't quit. It is my duty as Beckie's sister to give her and her three boys who were also murdered, a voice.
I liken it to a slow drip that keeps plopping in the middle of my forehead and doesn't stop, just like a water torture. As long as I am alive, I will continue to endure.