We enjoyed nothing more than going to our favorite bar ‘n grill for some really fine tasting grub, great music, good booze and dancing. I’ve always been a shot of tequila and a beer babe myself, while hubby enjoys his whiskey. Give him enough whiskey and he will put the shrimp heads on his fingers and make them start dancing.

We took frequent vacations and enjoyed the company of our friends and family. We went to parties and threw parties. We knew that having a baby might slow our “fun times” down, so we waited we got all of that partying out of our system. Our first child was planned and we hit a home run on the first try. After that…well I’ve always said that hubby could just toss his pants on the bed and I’d get pregnant.

Lloyd and Stephanie Rochester (Her MySpace) of Superior, Colorado were married on August 18, 2007. According to their bio information on their wedding website, theirs was an idyllic courtship. Both loved the outdoors, sports, working out and if their words are believable, each other.

Websites like these were not around when I got engaged back in the Jurassic period. But I’m pretty sure this is a “bride” thing. So I am assuming that Stephanie Rochester wrote the whole kit and caboodle. She wrote:

“We have continued to be a “perfect team” and are both absolutely amazed at how lucky we are to have such a beautiful and special gift. We believe we are a perfect match for each other, and with each other we are much greater than the sum of the parts. In every way we strengthen each others lives and our love is so strong we make the perfect union.”

Gag.

I guess I may have been like that when I was young and in lust, whoops, love.

They had a dramatic proposal on top of a dormant volcano (foreshadowed irony?) and a large wedding. They bought a house and settled into domestic life. When they first met, Stephanie Rochester, 34, was working at the Boulder Center for Sports Medicine. Later she took a position as a mental health counselor (not kidding) working with autistic children at Children’s Hospital. Lloyd, 29, worked for Lockeed Martin.

Like a lot of young couples, they decided to start their family pretty quickly, and baby Rylan Richard Rochester was born on November 4, 2009. Everyone said that Stephanie was a devoted and loving mother and the entire family seemed perfect. But then if things were so perfect, I wouldn’t be writing about them, huh?

Even during her pregnancy, Stephanie Rochester seemed obsessed with autism. She worried constantly that her baby would be born with developmental disabilities. I must say that with the first three of my pregnancies, developmental disabilities didn’t even make a blip on my radar. I was more concerned about my babies being healthy.

But not Stephanie Rochester, it was all autism, all the time. After Rylan was born, her obsession strengthened, demanding that his vaccinations be spread out over time instead of the “cocktail” that they give, just in case every single professional WAS wrong about vaccines not causing autism.

Rylan hit all of his developmental benchmarks and his pediatrician, extended family and friends all told Stephanie to stop obsessing. Rylan was fine. But every single time she looked at Rylan, she believed she saw an early symptom of the condition. And Stephanie Rochester just couldn’t live with an autistic child.

Autism is typically diagnosed between two and three years of age. I know from my own experiences, my son started exhibiting the symptoms of autism at around fifteen months. It got to the point that I knew something was terribly wrong, but his pediatrician kept telling me that he was just being a “boy” and relax.

But when my son put his head through a window, breaking the glass, I told his pediatrician that this wasn’t being a “boy” this was something else. When he tried to argue with me, I threw him into the wall and screamed at him, “THIS ISN’T NORMAL! FUCKING DO SOMETHING!”

A few months later, we received the news of the diagnosis. And it was devastating. It does change everything about you, your life and your family. But it isn’t the end of the world. It’s the old when life throws you lemons, you make lemonade thing. Just a weird, wildly flavored, and at times hard to swallow, lemonade.

But Stephanie Rochester was OBSESSED. She would tell anyone who would listen that autism ruined families. She started complaining to some people about possibly suffering from postpartum depression. She said she complained to her midwife who prescribed her 50 mg of the antidepressant Zoloft.

Wow, midwives must be really powerful in Colorado to be able to prescribe Zoloft. Can’t happen where I live.

But yet, to others, she seemed upbeat, positive and very much in love with her infant son. Quite the contrast. I had the baby blues after all of my kids. You cry at the drop of a hat. You are exhausted physically and mentally. For me it only lasted a couple of months.

I don’t think I ever had postpartum depression, so I can’t really equate it to my experiences. But I have had friends who had it, and it wasn’t pretty. They couldn’t hide it. They couldn’t pretend that everything was rosy. If you got them to talk (and that’s a big IF), it was about how shitty and how hopeless they felt. You knew they were hurting.

Lloyd has said that he only knew that she was having depression issues because Stephanie told him she was. But outside of her midwife, Stephanie Rochester never asked for help from a mental health professional. The mental health counselor didn’t seek help for a mental health condition that she said she had. Hmmmm.

While Lloyd was out of the country on business, Stephanie Rochester says she sank deeper into her depression. She told investigators that she spent hours online researching autism, reading blogs and looking for the early warning signs. She believed that Rylan had autism. She complained to Lloyd and her mother-in-law that Rylan was not making eye contact or tracking with his eyes and he was arching his back. Granted these are all signs of autism, but they appear in children much older than 6-months.

Stephanie Rochester told her mother-in-law that she was thinking of killing herself. So instead seeking immediate mental health care, mom-in-law just said, “come on over.” Stephanie and Rylan stayed with Grandma until Lloyd returned home. Way to go there, slap that band-aid on the bullet hole.

Lloyd says that on Monday, May 31, 2010, they spent the day at the pool. He told investigators that as far as he could see, Rylan was fine. He said that Rylan was jumping and holding his weight and appeared to be having a really good time. On the drive home, Stephanie Rochester again complained that she believed that Rylan was not just autistic, but SEVERELY autistic. She just knew that something was horribly wrong with their son. He wasn’t eating well or tracking with his eyes.

Lloyd finally took her and Rylan to the Urgent Care Center at Children’s Hospital. Rylan was checked by the triage nurse and everything appeared normal. As there were more severe cases ahead of them, Lloyd and Stephanie had to wait. While they were waiting, Lloyd complained to Stephanie that “he didn’t know that having a kid would be like this.”

After waiting a couple of hours, they got fed up and left (if you REALLY believe that something is seriously wrong with your child, you don’t just leave an emergency room because you had to wait). Lloyd said they planned to take Rylan to see his pediatrician the next morning.

When they returned home, Stephanie Rochester put Rylan to bed. As she stood there watching her son sleep, she thought that “I have to do something.” She just couldn’t raise a child with autism. She couldn’t. So she grabbed a plastic shopping bag (she thought it was from Target) and placed it over Rylan’s head.

Stephanie Rochester said that she had researched “suicide techniques” on the internet and believed that carbon monoxide poisoning was not painful. She didn’t want Rylan to suffer. She thought Rylan would just go to sleep and not wake up. She must have thought this would happen very quickly because after a minute she removed the bag and found that Rylan was still breathing. She tossed the bag in the garbage and left the nursery.

She and Lloyd had a nice dinner together where they enjoyed a glass of wine. They talked about the vacation they were taking the next day to Cape Cod. They talked about selling their home. They talked about bringing some fun back into their lives. Stephanie Rochester said that she knew they could not have any fun if they had a severely autistic child.

After dinner, Stephanie went to check on Rylan while Lloyd puttered around online. She says that she stood there and stared at her son and then grabbed two of his folded blankets from the laundry and placed them on top of his face so that he would stop breathing. She left the nursery and began to pack for their trip.

Stephanie Rochester said that after an hour or so, she got a little nervous and went to check on Rylan. I guess she wanted to see if the little weight around her neck was dead yet. She said that when she removed the blankets from his face that although he was still breathing, his eyes were open and he wasn’t responsive. Then Lloyd walked in to check on his son. He told investigators that he saw that Rylan’s eyes were open, but that he thought he was just really tired and sleeping. Hey asshole, babies don’t sleep with their eyes open. Lloyd believed that all was right with his world and he went to get ready for bed.

I imagine that Stephanie Rochester’s heart was about to jump out of her chest. I mean here she is trying to kill her kid and Daddy walks into the room. Must have been a huge relief when Lloyd shrugged it off and went to bed. Stephanie once again, left the nursery and went to bed.

Stephanie Rochester told investigators that around 2:30 in the morning of June 1, she went back into the nursery because she heard Rylan whimpering. There is her baby, lying in his crib, probably with irreversible brain damage due to lack of oxygen, looking up at his mother – the person that is supposed to protect him and keep him safe. You have to wonder if she said anything to him.

I doubt it.

By this time, I believe that Stephanie Rochester had ceased thinking of Rylan as a baby, her baby. Rylan was no longer human, he was a thing. Instead she thought of him as a party pooper and obstacle in the way of her having a good time.

Stephanie went into the guest bedroom and retrieved two folded adult size blankets. She returned to Rylan and placed both of the blankets on top of his face. I’m sure she thought, “that ought to do it.” And then went back to bed.

When Lloyd asked her if Rylan was OK, she told him “if it’s okay, let’s just let him cry it out.” Even though he thought that was an odd comment, he quickly went back to sleep.

Stephanie Rochester told investigators that she woke up around 6:00 a.m. and thought about killing herself by sitting in the garage with the car running. Instead, she went into Rylan’s room and removed the blankets from his face. She stated that as she stared at his lifeless little body, she lost it. Frantically, she threw the blankets into the guest bedroom closet so Lloyd wouldn’t see them. She then called to Lloyd to tell him that there was a problem with Rylan.

Lloyd stated that once he saw his son, who was not breathing but still warm, he threw on his clothes, grabbed Rylan and ran to the car. He told investigators that he knew that he could get Rylan to the hospital faster than waiting for an ambulance. That is, if he didn’t have to wait for Stephanie Rochester. He waited in the car, trying not to panic, honking the horn, waiting for what he thought was Rylan’s concerned, over protective mother.

He said that when Stephanie finally came out of the house, she calmly walked to the car. He handed Rylan to Stephanie and raced for Avista Medical Center. He said that the only thing that Stephanie Rochester seemed concerned about was that she thought he was driving too fast. Too fast? When your child, your baby is in a medical crisis, there is no such thing as driving too fast.

When they arrived at the emergency room, the doctors tried to revive Rylan, but it was too late and he was pronounced dead. But something about the entire situation didn’t sit well with the emergency room staff and they notified the Boulder County Sherrif’s Office about what they felt was a suspicious death.

By 8:40 a.m. Detectives Ali Thompson, Chris Fiegel and Mark Spurgeon of the Sherrif’s Department and Coroners Investigator, Deron Dempsey were at the hospital. They talked with the staff and then Investigator Dempsey spoke with Stephanie and Lloyd. Investigator Dempsey reported that Stephanie explained to him the severe health issues that Rylan was profoundly affected by autism, but it had not yet been diagnosed.

When Detectives Thompson, Fiegel and Spurgeon went to speak with Stephanie and Lloyed, Stephanie requested that she speak with Detective Thompson alone. They went into an empty exam room and Stephanie Rochester told her that she believed that she was suffering from postpartum depression. Then she admitted to killing Rylan.

She told Detective Thompson that she had initially used Rylan’s favorite monkey and bunny blankets to smother him before bringing in the adult sized blankets. At that time, Stephanie Rochester was placed under arrest. When detectives informed Lloyd that Stephanie had confessed to killing his son, he expressed surprise, but not shock. At that time, Lloyd was released and allowed to leave. It appeared that the only thing that Lloyd was guilty of was being an idiot.

View Stephanie Rochester’s Arrest Warrant

Once Stephanie arrived at the Sherrif’s Department, she requested something to eat and drink as she was hungry. She waived her Miranda writes and explained everything to the Investigators. Stephanie Rochester told Detective Thompson that for several weeks she had been feeling anxious and depressed and had thought about killing herself but didn’t want to burden Lloyd with the care of a severely autistic child.

Stephanie Rochester told Detective Thompson:

“that when you have a child with autism, your life is ruined financially and emotionally and that she felt like she couldn’t take care of Rylan.”

She went onto explain that with her vast experience in dealing with autistic children, SHE knew how to spot the symptoms early.

Yeah, an undergraduate degree in Psychology and two years of working in a Children’s Hospital makes her so much more qualified than the child’s pedatrician. Stephanie Rochester told Detective Thompson that even though she had been taking 50 mg of Zoloft since May 25, 2010, it didn’t seem to be working. Wow. Gave that shit a whole 5-6 days to take effect. Damn convienent, don’t you think?

Zoloft is traditionally prescribed to treat depression, obsessive-compulsive disorder, panic disorder, anxiety disorders, post-traumatic stress disorder and premenstrual dysphoric disorder. Any prescriber is going to inform the patient that it usually takes up to 14 days for the patient to begin to feel the effects as the levels build in the system. They should also refer them to a mental health provider for evaluation and follow-up. So waiting a few days is unrealistic. You would think that a mental health counselor would know this.

Stephanie Rochester was charged with first-degree murder and child abuse resulting in death. She is being held without bond and is on suicide watch. Lloyd, who retained a criminal attorney for himself, filed for divorce on Wednesday, June 9, 2010 stating that the “marriage was irretrievably broken.” Well, Duh. Gee I don’t know, the whacko bitch only killed his son. Very, very, slowly over 12 fucking hours. Yup, don’t think even Dr. Phil (hate that guy, by the way) can fix this one.

Attorney George Robertie is representing Lloyd in his divorce. In the section of the divorce petition that asks for information regarding children, it stated N/A. In the section that asks whether there are court proceedings that could affect the divorce, it says “homicide.” Nothing like killing a child to end a “perfect union.”

In the aftermath of Stephanie Rochester’s arrest, many people who knew her have come forward to express complete disbelief. A neighbor, Kimberly Rouland said:

“She didn’t express to me anything but being tired. But I feel she’s someone who wouldn’t want to burden me with that.”

Others expressed complete shock and bewilderment. Rouland believes that if Stephanie is guilty of killing Rylan, then there must be some type of mental illness involved:

“I know her, and this isn’t something she would do. She is lovely and sweet and consistent. Whatever happened, we can’t get our heads around it.”

Most shared her sentiments. I, for one, am not really buying the whole postpartum depression defense. If that is the case, then Stephanie Rochester was suffering from postpartum depression before she even gave birth when she began obsessing about autism.

Women suffering from postpartum psychosis have completely snapped with reality. They are unable to think ahead and live only in the moment. When they kill their children, it doesn’t take them 12 hours and 3 tries to do it. They do not try to hide the evidence of their crimes from their husbands. They literally cannot think that far ahead.

Mothers killing their children due to postpartum psychosis is an extremely rare phenomenon with only about 4% of women becoming psychotic enough to murder their babies. Women suffering from postpartum depression/psychois or who have very real thoughts of suicide do not pack for vacations. They don’t talk about selling their homes or putting some fun back into their lives. They can see no future for themselves or their children so what is the point of packing for a trip to Cape Cod?

I think that Stephanie Rochester found out that being a parent really is the world’s toughest job. It is a 24/7, 365 day a year commitment.

I believe that Stephanie was probably a little nuts before she got pregnant. Nuts and extremely selfish. She believed that having a child with autism was the same as wearing a giant mill stone around your neck and trying to swim. Stephanie Rochester just didn’t want the responsibility of a child and used autism as an excuse.

Yes, having a child with autism does change your life. It turns it upside down, inside out and spins it around. But it isn’t the end of the world. My son is moderately affected by autism. I know how difficult it can be. I wouldn’t wish an autistic toddler on Osama bin Laden. If I had dropped my son in Osama’s lap when my son was 3-years old, bin Laden would have dragged his dialysis machine out of the cave that he is hiding in and turned himself in screaming uncle.

A very dear friend of mine has a son that is profoundly affected by autism. He didn’t give up. Like us, he and his family adapted. Why? Because we love our kids and just because they are different and difficult at times doesn’t change the fact that we would move heaven and earth for them. Saying that you killed your baby because you “thought” they had autism is an affront to the millions of families out there that deal with the disorder with love, compassion, determination and a fierce spirit on a daily basis.

Stephanie Rochester told investigators that she didn’t want Rylan to suffer. Yet, suffer is what this helpless little infant did. Imagine his terror as he tried to breath and couldn’t. He didn’t have the strength to push the blankets off of his face as he struggled and suffocated. A slow and tortuous death. Lying there helpless, screaming for his mommy, desperately trying to draw breath after agonized breath – for 12 hours. Until the lack of oxygen to his brain rendered him silent and finally dead.

To me, Stephanie Rochester represents a special kind of evil. For any baby, their mother is their entire world. They are helpless and completely dependent on them for their survival. Rylan did not know that his mother resented him. That she believed him to be defective and thus not worth living. She worked with autistic children, so she knew better than anyone else that you cannot accurately diagnose the level of autism that an individual will suffer when they are a toddler.

I was given the “pick your institution now” speech when my son was not quite 2-years old. But now at 10-years old, he is mainstreamed in a regular ed classroom and making the honor roll. Yes, he has problems. Yes, he will have problems the rest of his life. Yes, it is a financial burden. But he is a joy and the heart of our family. He is a gifted musician and a talented artist.

Stephanie told people that she believed Rylan to be better off dead than living with autism. And if she truly believed that her son was better off dead than autistic, then she knew absolutely nothing about it. Many people with autism have contributed miraculous things to the human race. People like Temple Grandin, Hikari Oe, Stephen Wiltshire, Beethoven, Mozart and Albert Einstein. All of these people fell somewhere on the spectrum. And they were not mill stones. The world is a much better place because of them.

Stephanie Rochester robbed herself, her husband, her family, friends and possibly the world of her son Rylan. She will never know if he would have become an Einstein or a Mozart. Stephanie was just too fucking lazy to make that lemonade. Rest in peace baby Rylan.

So you’ll have to forgive me if I seem to be overreacting to this story of what amounts to a pair of German Shepherds behaving like what they are – dogs – and an owner who has lived long enough to be called a man but doesn’t have a clue about how to act like one.

The 20th of April was unusually warm here in Connecticut, and, encouraged by the weather, Guy Marchison took his 15-week-old golden retriever pup named Star on an extra long walk near the town of Ridgefield’s Park and Recreation Center. As the little dog frolicked nearby, Mr. Marchison noticed a tall man, later identified as Robert Kahn, 58, of Litchfield, CT, standing near a copper colored Hummer watching his two large German Shepherds playing about 50 feet away.

According to Mr. Marchison, the pair of dogs suddenly charged in his direction.

“I knew this wasn’t a little meet and greet thing — I knew these dogs were on a mission.”

Mr. Marchison quickly picked up Star and held her in his arms as the two German Shepherds began to jump up and snap at the puppy. Marchison did his best to fight them off, but he was basically helpless. The Shepherds, which weighed in at between 100 to 150 pounds each, bit the puppy on her chest and front legs, and also clawed and bit Marchison’s arms as he gave up his own body to shield Star from the attack.

At some point during the Melee, Guy Marchison saw Robert Kahn, the owner of the two German Shepherds:

“I looked up and he was standing there by his car looking at us. Through the melee I heard a whistle and somebody yell over my dog really screaming, and those two German shepherds released and ran back to him. I can only say I think those two dogs were well-trained dogs.”

The two large dogs jumped up into the back of Robert Kahn’s Hummer; He calmly closed the gate, got into the driver’s seat and drove away.

Guy Marchison’s car was parked on the other side of the field, so he began to walk toward it when…

“…my dog went limp in my arms — I thought she was dead.”

Fortunately for the puppy, a Red Cross blood drive was just closing up at the Park and Recreation Center, so experienced medical personal were at the scene already and immediately started first aide. Guy Marchison described the scene:

“It happened very, very quickly. They immobilized the dog, got a backboard. She was squirting blood all over the place, like I was, and immobilized her front paw because it looked like she had a club it was so swelled up.”

Star suffered broken ribs and puncture wounds, and now has a front leg with ligament and tendon damage. She also suffered an injury to her leg’s growth plate, which means she may end up with one leg shorter than the other three. Guy Marchison suffered deep cuts on his hands, arms, face and neck.

Meanwhile, Ridgefield police responded and put out a 50-mile radius alert Tuesday night looking for the burnt orange or copper-colored Hummer, in which Marchison said the man with the dogs drove off.

Some of the neighbors think this is a pattern of behavior by Robert Kahn, who was one of a group of men that lived in a house in the neighborhood. They described his copper-colored Hummer and two large German Shepherd dogs, one predominantly black and one mostly light gray.

One woman said three dogs on their street were attacked by that pair of German shepherds.

“They were unbelievably badly behaved, huge dogs. The two German shepherds, they get loose, they are very strong, and they get away from the owner.”

She said the dogs got loose and attacked her dog, leaving puncture wounds. Her husband tried to break it up and was bitten himself, she said.

Another man used to take his dog to a different dog park, but was forced to stop because of the harassment by Robert Kahn’s two German Shepherds.

“(The two dogs) pick out a couple dogs. They don’t go after them right away. They circle them and start harassing them, biting their neck, and wait until the animal gives in or cries. They did that to a black Lab a year and a half ago.”

(The young woman who owned the Lab) “reached in to pull out her dog and she got bit, not too bad, but she was bleeding.”

The man told the Kahn to call his dogs off, but Kahn just laughed at him. When the man told him he had called the police already, Kahn loaded the dogs into his Hummer and took off.

Sounds familiar. So, not only is Robert Kahn an irresponsible coward, he’s also a bully. Yes sir, and I bet he wonders why he’s single at the age of 58, right?

Anyways, Bob-O hoped for the best, but on Monday, May 17, 2010, Robert Kahn turned himself in at the Ridgefield police station Monday, but only after he was informed Ridgefield police had obtained a state Superior Court warrant for his arrest.

Kahn was charged with second-degree reckless endangerment (a misdemeanor), two counts of allowing a dog to roam, and animal nuisance. He was released on $1,000 bond pending a June 2 appearance in state Superior Court in Danbury, CT.

As for Star, the Golden Retriever puppy, and her owner and her hero, Guy Marchison, they are both recovering nicely.

“There will be more treatment (for Star), but hopefully she won’t need any more surgeries.”

“There are so many things I could say to him (Robert Kahn), but I’m not going there right now.

You’re a classy guy Mr. Marchison, and I’m not surprise you’re keeping silent about Robert Kahn. He so far below you as a man and as a human being that he doesn’t even deserve to be noticed by you.

However, I hope you don’t mind if we here at PYSIH take a few shot at him. We are a very humble bunch and don’t feel we are above giving a virtual ass whupping to anyone who has earned a place in our hall of shame.

Now I don’t blame the two German Shepherd dogs for their behavior. It sounds to me like they were only behaving in the way they were trained to. And the fact that they released on command tells me that Robert Kahn enjoyed these attacks and let them go on as long as he wanted to. Everything was under his control, and he is 100% responsible.

As Usual, I Forgot To Thank The Reader, In This Case CTMOM, For Tipping Me Off To This Story.

No, what makes Rie Fujii different from the rest of us humans and makes her a candidate for hell is what she left behind in her apartment.

She left her two babies. Alone. With one bottle apiece. Each clad in a diaper. Domenic Ryu Brown was 15 months old. His sister Gemini Brown, who was born prematurely and had to spend her first two weeks of life in hospital, was an entire 3 months old. And while mommy was busy bucking the beast for ten days, Domenic and Gemini died slowly and painfully of dehydration and starvation.

Rie Fujii was born in 1978 in Tsuwano, Shimane prefecture, Japan to Tomoko and Hideto Fujii (it’s important to target the right Rie Fujii for vilification purposes). She made her way to Calgary, Canada in 1997, after telling her family she was going to study English.

Rie Fujii moved in with Peter Brown, and returned to Japan in 1998 when her visa was about to expire. She came back a few months later on a tourist’s visa, and hooked up with Brown again. She never told her parents about her Canadian boyfriend.

On February 9, 2000, little Domenic was born. And were Fujii’s parents proud? No, because she didn’t bother to tell them about their Canadian grandchild. When her visa expired, she decided to stay put illegally. On February 4,, 2001 Fujii left Brown and moved herself and Domenic into an emergency shelter.

Twenty days later Rie Fujii gave birth to Gemini. Again, she didn’t tell her parents about their new grandchild. They thought she was still busy studying English. That’s what they were sending her $2000 a month for. By the end of March she was busy with her new boyfriend, Chris Knowler. She moved her little family into an apartment in April and wouldn’t tell Brown their whereabouts. Heaven forbid he should be able to visit or check up on his babies!

But family life was beginning to pall for Rie Fujii. “I hate my stupid living. I’ve decided to live like I used to,” she wrote in her diary. She’d been a parent for fourteen entire months by then, so it’s not like she hadn’t given it her best shot. How long is parenthood supposed to last, anyway?

And so she started spending nights at Knowler’s place in Calgary, leaving the babies home alone. I guess finding a babysitter in a city of over a million people is totally impossible!

At the beginning of May, Knowler moved to Cochrane, Alberta, and Rie Fujii, desperate at the thought of losing her daily dose of dick, trailed after him on May 8th. She told him the kids were with a babysitter.

They weren’t, of course, but according to what she later told the parole board, she was only going to be away for one day. No big deal, right? We all know a bottle a day is plenty. But then she missed the bus.

“Maybe I can leave them for one more night,” she admitted thinking. “I chose not to think about my kids, even though I knew they were not going to be OK.”

Now was that naïve, immature or selfish? And before Rie Fujii knew it, ten days of poking the pony had passed, and it was well and truly time to go home to check on the kiddies.

“I was hoping they were still alive but when I thought about it, they could have been dead.”

And yes, by May 18th they were dead. So being naïve/immature/selfish, Rie Fujii put Gemini’s wee body into a trash bag and tossed her into a dumpster. R.I.P. Gemini. Her body was never found.

Domenic, maybe because he was a little bigger than his baby sister, wound up wrapped in a blanket and just left in the apartment. And mommy dearest headed back to Cochrane for a little more loving. She didn’t stay there, though.

Unbelievably, before her arrest Rie Fujii returned and stayed in the apartment a total of eight days. With Domenic’s corpse still in the apartment! Now that takes a special kind of heartless hell beast to do that.

On June 5, the landlord came calling with an eviction notice. The sickening smell was his first clue that something was oh so wrong. On June 6, Fujii was arrested and charged with second degree murder.

Rie Fujii’s parents found out from a phone call from the Calgary Police that they had and lost two grandbabies, courtesy of their daughter. Hideto Fujii said he and his wife would have done something to help had they known about the children and their daughter’s troubles.

Rie Fujii’s hypersexual behavior didn’t end with her arrest. She was understandably sent off to hospital for a psychiatric evaluation before her trial. Apparently she spent a fair amount of time getting ultra friendly with her fellow patients on the ward. The Crown prosecutor recounted in court:

“The accused and various male co-patients would put pillows over their laps and sit beside each other on the couches in the common area of the unit. They would then each put their hands under the pillows and down the other’s pants, fondling the other’s genitals.”

Rie Fujii pled guilty to manslaughter and was sentenced to eight years in prison by Mr. Justice Peter Martin, who concluded she had a personality disorder (duh) but still knew that leaving the babies alone for 10 days was dooming them to certain death. She served five years of her sentence and was deported back to Japan. In my view, she can’t get to hell fast enough. One can only pray she’s not breeding any more victims in Japan.

On a side note, the other candidates for hell are the nameless neighbors who listened to the babies’ cries for days without doing anything about it.

Wow, eight years for the lives of two innocent little children eh? I guess that qualifies as throwing the book at Rie Fujii in the Canadian justice system. And then to parole her after she’s served only half her sentence? Our friends to the north certainly have a different view of crime and punishment than we do here in the United States.

It’s always a source of great consternation to me that a murderer like Rie Fujii can serve the same amount of prison time as a punk who hold up a convenience store, but far be it from me to question the Queen’s justice. I guess these things are above the understanding of a commoner like me.

And just so we don’t go feeling sorry for Rie Fujii’s and her “personality disorder”, I found a few excerpts from a phone conversation she had while being held in the forensic (criminal) ward of that psychiatric hospital.

Fujii excitedly described the arrival of child killer Tony Gallup to her friend.

“Guess who is here — it’s that famous murderer, who’s been making headlines these days, who killed that little girl in Lethbridge.

“He looks totally different from the picture that was published in the newspaper.”

Fujii said she didn’t speak to Gallup, who was convicted of first-degree murder for killing five-year-old Jessica Koopmans in 2001.

“No, he is kind of segregated from us, but there are lots of other criminals.”
“I’m fine. I’ve talked to them. It’s fine.”

“Many things have happened, indeed. I should write about it and publish a book once I go back to Japan. Some publisher will be interested in my story.”

Yes, maybe you should write that book Ms. Fujii. Make sure you send an autographed copy to Mr. Justice Peter Martin, along with a thank you note for the light sentence.

This Is Another Excellent First Effort by The Second of Three New Writers Who Have Recently Submitted Stories. Tomorrow I Will Publish The Third Installment Of Our Focus On New Authors

In East Hampton, Connecticut, a medium sized burg east of my hometown of Middletown, Cara L. Culbert drove her car off the side of the road. No big deal, you say, except according to the Middletown Press:

police had received a report of black Chevrolet Monte Carlo operating erratically on Route 66 at about 1:00 p.m. Saturday.

Police came upon the car off the right side of the road, the chief said. When the officer spoke to the driver, he said her speech was slurred and she appeared to be under the influence of some substance.

The officer administered a field sobriety test, which Culbert flunked, East Hampton Police Chief Matthew A. Reimondo said. She was then arrested and charged with driving while under the influence of alcohol and/or drugs.

A check of her vehicle uncovered a syringe and a small amount of marijuana.

This is not an unusual occurrence in the town of East Hampton, folks being arrested for DUI, as I can attest to myself. Being a recovering drug addict, I’ve attended many, many Alcoholic Anonymous meetings there and can say with a certain amount of confidence that there are more drunks and junkies per square mile in East Hampton than perhaps any other town in Connecticut.

But I digress.

Cara L. Culbert was also charged with possession of marijuana, possession of drug paraphernalia and failure to drive in the right lane. Around 3:00 pm she was released to a friend on $5,000 bond for a pending court date. Her black Monte Carlo was impounded by police.

Her friend drove her home, where Cara wasted no time borrowing another car, a Chevrolet Cavalier, from a family member.

God must have been paying attention at this moment, and he wasn’t having any of that. He decided to play a little joke on Cara Culbert.

Just 20 minutes after she was released by East Hampton police, Culbert’s car crossed the center line and collided with an SUV just over the East Hampton town line in Portland. She died at the scene.

I don’t know about you, but when my wife read this part of the Middletown Press article to me, I could have sworn I heard Nelson Muntz laugh, “Ha! Ha!”

Unfortunately, the driver of the SUV, Kevin McKenna, was injured and had to be taken to Hartford Hospital. I couldn’t find any report on Mr. McKenna’s current condition, but I assume he will recover.

OK, now I have to be serious for a moment. I realize I was pretty disrespectful of someone who is dead and has family members who love her. As a matter of fact, I found her Obituary, which states that she is survived by a son. That’s sad. (See Obituary)

But what’s really sad is a grown woman, a mother, who is so wasted at one o’clock in the afternoon that she can’t keep her car on the road. What’s sad is that Cara L. Culbert got out of jail and chose to jump right back in a car and take off again, not much more sober than she was when she was arrested. What’s sad is that her friends and family members let her drive again two hours after receiving a DUI.

What’s sad is an young boy who will never see his mother again, never talk to her, never hug her, never be told that he’s loved by her. Yeah, that’s sad.

So I don’t apologize for choosing to use a little humor to bring attention to this stupid person’s even stupider actions. Never let it be said I wasted a chance to make people laugh. Who knows, maybe I was able to send a little message at the same time.

Sadly, I have to report to you another case of a jackass doing just what I described in (a.) while several people, for reasons I will never understand, acted on (b.). One man in particular behaved in an especially outrageous manner in this regard, enough so that he almost earned himself a nomination to the PYSIH All-Star team. More on that later.

It all started innocently enough. Brittany Gonzalez, the 11-year-old daughter of Carmen Huertas, was halfway through a two day sleepover with six of her best friends on Saturday, October 8th, 2009. At around 7 PM, Carmen piled all 7 girls – all between the ages of 11 and 14 – and her 18-month old son into her Mercury Sable station wagon and headed to the home of her former boyfriend, who was hosting a birthday party for his niece Corinna Gonzalez. The six passenger wagon was so overloaded that three of the girls had to sit in the cargo area, where there are no seatbelts. In fact, there aren’t any seats either.

Although Carmen Huertas had told friends she would spend only two hours at the party, she started drinking cognac, and as soon as the buzz started kicking in, decided to stay a bit longer. In fact, it was midnight when she started loading up the car again for the ride back to her home in the Bronx, NY. By then she was visibly intoxicated, enough so that several people noticed it.

Brittany Gonzalez’s father and Carmen Huertas’ ex, Ernesto Gonzalez, was one of the people that noticed Huertas’ condition:

“”I been with her 10 years. I know when she’s been drinking. She wasn’t like drunk to the point of incapacitated, but I knew that the amount of liquor she drank, it was gonna hit her, it was gonna hit her sooner or later. It was gonna hit her especially on an empty stomach.”

“I pleaded with her not to drive and she said her man told me he was going to take care of it. He told me he had it, he said, ‘I got it, don’t worry.’”

Eduardo Henriquez went and spoke to Carmen Huertas, telling her she was too drunk to drive, but she refused to give up her keys. He finally gave up, but not before Mr. Henriquez grabbed his 18-month-old son from the car. Sadly, he did nothing about the other 7 children, according to his own stepdaughter, Brittany Gonzalez.

“He didn’t do anything. He just took the baby and left.”

Actually, Mr. Henriquez prevented three other young boys from getting into Carmen Huertas’ car. One of the boys who was also headed back up to the Bronx with Carmen Huertas – Ernesto’s son with Huertas, Ernesto Gonzalez Jr. – saw it happen where she’d parked the car two blocks from the party.

“He just like took the baby out the car and we just left.”

I don’t know how many kids Carmen Huertas planned on putting into that 5 passenger Mercury Sable station wagon, but by my count, if fate hadn’t intervened there would have been 13 people, including 11 children, a baby, and Carmen herself. Eduardo Henriquez tried to make some sense of it all;

“There would’ve been three more kids in that car. He (Gonzalez) wasn’t (thinking). Nobody was. The fault is on everybody, you can’t just blame one person… I didn’t step up, you know, I’m sorry. I apologize to everybody from the bottom of my heart, you know?”

The reason everyone was so upset that they did try harder to stop Carmen Huertas from driving while drunk with a carload of children should be painfully obvious to everyone by now. Yes, she crashed her station wagon. Yes, children were killed and injured. But the terror that these children went through at the hands of Ms. Huertas is what really qualifies her for a choice seat on the express train to Hell.

Shortly after they left the party, Carmen, obviously stinging from everyone’s insistence that she was too drunk to drive, decided to take out her anger on the 7 girls in the car. She began speeding, reaching 70 miles per hour on surface streets. The girls begged her to slow down, and she replied by taunting them:

“If you think this is bad, wait until we get on the highway.”

“I don’t care about these other kids – only my (18-month-old) baby.”

“Who thinks something’s going to happen? Raise your hands. Who thinks we’re going to get into an accident?

Nice, huh? The worst one, In my opinion, was the crack about only caring about the baby – her daughter Brittany was sitting there right next to her and asked;

“What about me, Mom? I’m your daughter.”

Carmen Huertas reportedly did not answer. How could she? This really broke my heart, thinking about how sad Brittany must have felt when she heard it.

At 12:45 AM Sunday morning, the inevitable finally happened. Carmen Huertas was traveling on the West Side Highway in New York City at more than 80 miles per hour when, according to one of the passengers, 14-year-old Yismel Rosario:

“The car started swerving back and forth. I was like, ‘Oh, my God!’ Then it flipped over. Gisele, Kayla and Leandra flew out of the car. Their eyes were closed. I got out of the car and went to my sister. I held her and said, ‘If you can hear me, nod your head.’ I told her it would be OK, that help is on the way.”

Brittany Gonzalez also described the crash;

“All three girls in the back just flew out when the trunk popped open because it just popped open when we flipped once. My friend’s seatbelt snapped. Leandra Rosado just flew out and she was the one in the woods.”

Leandra Rosado was also the one who didn’t make it. The eleven-year-old was rushed to Saint Luke’s Hospital in Manhattan, where she passed away within minutes.
Lenny Rosado, the victim’s father, took the news of his daughter’s death very badly;

“It was very hard, very hard seeing your daughter there – the only child laying down.”

“My only daughter, my life and my joy, taken away. She used to like to be called Lilly.”

One of the other girls who was ejected from the car, thirteen-year-old Giselle Rosario, remains hospitalized in serious, but stable condition with two broken legs. A third young lady, 11-year-old Kayla Sanchez, suffered a long list of painful injuries, including a fractured cheek, nose and left arm and is still a patient at New York – Presbyterian/Weill Cornell hospital. Brittany Gonzalez broke her left wrist, and the other 3 girls were treated and released at local hospitals for a variety of injuries.

Carmen Huertas broke her arm and was in stable condition at Harlem Hospital Center. She blew a .13 BAC on a Breathalyzer at the scene, and is now facing vehicular manslaughter and DWI charges. She was formally indicted and arraigned on Wednesday, October 28th, at which time she entered a plea of not guilty. If convicted on both charges, Huertas faces up to 15 years in prison.

Carmen Huertas family has been remarkably subdued during this horrible tragedy, being supportive of Carmen without being obnoxious and showing much respect for the victims and their families. I don’t know why this surprises me – I guess I’m still a bit shell-shocked from the Diane Schuler story.

Carmen’s Lawyer, on the other hand, one Steven Rubin, is a totally different animal. Mr. Rubin suggested Wednesday that because some of the parents of a few of the victims attended the same party that Carmen got drunk at, they are somehow share in the blame for the crash that injured their kids. I’m not talking about Eduardo Henriquez or Ernesto Gonzalez either.

“There is so much blame to go around but it’s all coming down on Ms. Huertas’ head.”

“Some of the parents were at the party that Huertas attended in Chelsea before the wreck – and they did not stop her from driving off with their kids”

How many of them knew she was drinking, or how much she had to drink, Mr. Rubin? Who’s turn was it to watch Carmen Huertas that night, anyways? I’m not going to rehash this whole story again, but I think if Steven Rubin tries to use this defense on a real live jury, they may get up and kick his ass in open court.

The jackass pictured on the left, Christopher Swiridowsky, age 30, of Providence RI, took hit and run driving to a whole new level early Sunday morning when he fled the scene of an accident with one of his victims impaled on the windshield of his car. How fortunate for us that before he did this he took this ridiculous picture of himself and posted it on his MySpace homepage. Very fortunate indeed.

The incident started when a two-car accident occurred on Route 95 South inside the city limits of Providence RI. The Rhode Island State Police said the cars, driven by Jose Flores, 24, and Michael Abrames, 33, ended up blocking the far left lane. Christopher Swiridowsky’s car first struck the left rear corner of Abrames’ vehicle, pushing it into Abrames. Swiridowsky’s car continued on, striking Flores and a passenger in Flores’ car, Efron Trinidad, 28, causing Flores to become lodged in the windshield.

Christopher Swiridowsky then drove off, followed for a mile and a half by another motorist, Albert Garcia, who contacted the state police by cell phone. Swiridowsky got off the highway and eventually stopped the car in a parking lot, where he actually had the audacity to ask Mr. Garcia a most amazing question.

“I was chasing him. I stopped my car. That’s when he got out of his car and asked me ‘why are you following me?’.”

Well I’m not sure Chris, but it might be the bleeding man who’s sitting half way through your windshield. Just a guess of course.

After confronting Albert Garcia, Christopher Swiridowsky again left the scene, this time on foot. Cops found him hiding in a closet in the basement of his house and arrested him, according to the state police.

As you may have figured, Jose Flores is the worse off of the three injured men. He is currently being treated for life-threatening injuries in the Intensive Care Unit of Rhode Island Hospital. Efron Trinidad is also in the ICU listed in critical condition with numerous sever injuries. Michael Abrames was lucky – He was treated and released at Rhode Island Hospital.

Christopher Swiridowsky faces three counts of leaving the scene of an accident after injury and one count of obstructing a police officer. He was arraigned in Providence District Court and ordered held on $25,000 bail by Judge Michael A. Higgins, who also ordered Swiridowsky held Tuesday as an alleged bail violator stemming from a July drug charge he was facing.

A Big Thank You Goes To Jason’s Wife For Tipping Us Off To This Story. Way To Keep It In The Family There Guys

By all accounts, Diane Schuler was a superb mom, doting on her daughter Erin, 2, and son Bryan, 5, and her husband Daniel was head over heels in love with her. It seemed that she had everything she could ever dream of, and the Schulers appeared to everyone to be a strong, happy family.

But Diane Schuler was hiding a dirty little secret. She was a closet alcoholic – a binge drinker to be precise. Every now and then, for no reason in particular, Diane Schuler would drink. And drink. And drink. She would drink so much in such a short amount of time she would become delirious, and in time, unconscious. Diane also enjoyed smoking a little pot on occasion, and there were some reports I read that said she had insomnia and fired up a joint every night as a sleeping aid, but I couldn’t confirm that.

These drinking bouts were few and far between as far as I could tell, and there is some doubt about how much her husband either knew or chose to believe about his wife’s drinking problem. “I never saw her drunk since the day I met her,” said Daniel Schuler. My experience, and I have quite a lot of it, has been that you don’t live with a person for years and not wind up knowing everything about that a person’s drinking and drugging habits. On the other hand, there’s no saying how powerful Daniel’s denial actually was.

And that brings us to the morning of July 26th, 2009. The Schulers were wrapping up the annual family camping trip at Hunter Lake Campground in New York State’s Catskill Mountains. Everyone was in an upbeat mood as as Diane, Daniel, Diane’s brother, Warren Hance, and his wife packed up the Schuler’s red 2003 Ford Windstar minivan for the ride home to Long Island.

The plan was for Diane Schuler to take all the children and leave early, stopping at McDonald’s for breakfast along the way. There were no signs of trouble as she set off with her two children, Erin and Bryan, along with the Hance’s daughters, Emma, 8, Alyson, 7, and Kate, 5. At some point, Diane Schuler stopped to purchase a pain reliever at a convenience store, and reportedly there was still no signs of anything being wrong.

But shortly after that, as she drove down New York State Route 17 at the border between Sullivan and Westchester counties, something went terribly wrong. Diane Schuler got ahold of a 1.75-liter bottle of Absolute Vodka that the Schulers had brought up to the lake, and took a couple of healthy slugs from it. For the next sixty miles she drove aggressively enough that people would remember her minivan – She tailgated, she laid on the horn, she passed cars recklessly, shouting obscenities as she went by.

Witnesses also told New York State Police said the van was straddling two lanes, veering from one lane to another, and one witness said it appeared as if Diane Schuler were attempting to pass him on the shoulder of the highway. Another witness said the van drove across a grass divider at a service area on NY Route 87.

State police said while they can’t be absolutely certain the driver was Diane Schuler, the description of the vehicle and occupants and the time the incidents were reported “lead them to believe they are one in the same.”

Diane Schuler continued to hit that bottle of Absolute, and to hit on a joint while she drank. eventually, Diane started to feel a little, well, under the weather. She grabbed he cellphone and called her brother Warren, who from what I could gather was on the road 20 to 30 minutes behind her. She told him, she wasn’t feeling well, and she was sick to her stomach. She never mentioned the booze or the pot. He told her to pull over and wait for him – something about her voice told Warren his sister Diane was more than just sick. She told him she would be fine and continued on her way.

Warren Hance called his sister back. By now she had pulled over, Diane Schuler was teetering on the edge of drunken delirium. Again Warren ordered her to stay put – he would be there in just a few minutes, and he would drive them the rest of the way home. She hung up on him. He called back again and asked to speak to his oldest daughter, 8-year-old Emma. He could sense the panic in her voice.

“There’s something wrong with Aunt Diane!”

It get’s a little hazy here as to exactly what happened and in what order, but it is sure that Diane Schuler had again pulled over to the side of the road. Her niece had handed the phone back to her, or her brother called back again, I’m not sure which, and Diane had one last conversation with Warren Hance. She said something about having tunnel vision, which is very common in people who are extremely intoxicated. Warren begged her a final time to stay where she was – Diane Schuler tossed the phone out of the car and sped off.

At the intersection of Route 267 and the Taconic State Parkway, Diane Schuler finally made the fatal, tragic mistake she was almost fated to make that morning. She enter the Taconic going southbound on the northbound lanes. She never saw the “wrong way” and “one way” sign on the exit ramp she used to get on the parkway. She drove 1.7 miles like she was sober as a judge, straight as an arrow and centered between the white lines in the far left lane, until, at about 1:35 p.m., her minivan slammed head-on into a Chevrolet Trailblazer driven by Guy Bastardi, 49, and occupied by his father Michael, 81, and a close family friend, Daniel Longo, 74, heading to the regular Sunday family pasta dinner. Witnesses say the impact sounded like a massive explosion.

The Yonkers, NY, men never had a chance. All three were all killed instantly.

After the minivan crashed, it rolled down a hill and burst into flames. Passers-by pulled over and began pulling kid after kid out of the wreck, but it was a wasted effort. Erin, Emma, Alyson, and Kate were dead, as was Diane Schuler. Only little Bryan survived the crash with severe head injuries. One First Responder, the chief of a local volunteer fire department with 30 years of experience, said it was the worst scene he had ever witnessed. There were dead bodies, some seemingly much too small, laid out all over the Taconic State Parkway.

During Diane Schuler’s autopsy, it was determined that she had a blood alcohol content of .19 – more than twice the legal limit in New York State. Not only that, but she still had 6 grams of raw alcohol in her stomach. In other words, Diane Schuler was drinking right up until the moment she died, and her level was still going up. The Medical Examiner also determined she had smoked marijuana within an hour of her death at the most, but probably in the last 15 minutes.

In spite of the overwhelming evidence against Diane Schuler, the Schuler family circled the wagons and made a concerted effort to convince people that Diane wasn’t drunk when she destroyed most of their next generation. They said it was a stroke. They insisted that a lump on Diane’s leg must have been an embolism, and that it broke free, traveled to her brain and cause her symptoms of intoxication.

This one was my personal favorite; Diane Schuler suddenly developed diabetes (To be fair, she had some trouble regulating her insulin levels during her last pregnancy, but that cleared itself up after Erin was born), so she used the vodka to get her glucose levels corrected. I swear to god, Daniel Schuler’s lawyer, Dominic Barbara, spoke words to that effect at a press conference. The same press conference, I might add, that Babara came up with the great “Anbesol” conspiracy. He tried to convince reporters that the Anbesol topical pain reliever Diane Schuler was using for a painful abscessed tooth she had somehow cause a false positive reading for alcohol.

Daniel Schuler sobbed and begged and pleaded with us to believe that his wife hardly ever drank. He told reporters that he never once saw her drunk or high. His beautiful, perfect wife was no alcoholic.

Not once did he mention the Bastardis, The Longos, or even his in-laws, the Hances, nor did he offer any condolences. Daniel Schuler had no tears for the victims.

Meanwhile, the Longos and the Bastardis were in hell. Not only did they have to deal with the grief of losing their loved ones, they now had to watch this farce play itself out in the media. Roseann Guzzo, Michael Bastardi’s daughter, said the Schulers’ denials came as “a blow” to the family.

“It’s like we’re being victimized all over again. I feel numb.”

Warren Hance and his wife chose to split from Diane Schuler’s family after this performance, instead forming a bond with the Bastardis and Longos as the three families mourned their dead.

The final insult came on August 29th, when a private investigator hired by Diane Schuler’s husband, Daniel Schuler, who obtained the findings of the Westchester Medical Examiner, said there is no evidence of cirrhosis of the liver or other diseases common to alcoholics.

Investigator Tom Ruskin said the lack of evidence of long-term alcoholism backs up the claims of “dozens upon dozens” of people who said she did not have problems with alcohol.

“To take that leap of faith, to believe that this woman took 10 shots, possibly in a 48-minute period – certainly defies logic – defies common sense and substantiates to a certain sense the family’s story, the witnesses’ story, that this is inconsistent with her personality.”

What Mr. Ruskin failed to mention was that the Autopsy report also failed to show any signs of the ailments Diane Schuler’s family is trying to use as excuses for Diane’s behavior on the day of the crash. And there is nothing that explains away the .19 BAC, the 6 grams of alcohol still in her stomach, and the extremely high levels of THC in her bloodstream.

And then there were Diane Schuler’s co-workers, who told the New York newspapers that she would drink after work on a regular basis. She had a favorite watering hole where she would enjoy a few of her favorite drinks, screwdrivers, or course, made with vodka and orange juice. Some said in the last two months Diane Schuler’s drinking had picked up, as she expressed some unhappiness with her marriage and her career.

As I researched this story, and read about the machinations the Schulers went through in there attempt to absolve Diane of any blame for what amounts to the murder of 7 innocent people, I felt like I was reading some of the ridiculous comment we get on PYSIH by family members, defending people who are so painfully guilty it dumbfounds most of us that these people can believe the things they are saying. Then I realized how they do it.

An open minded person – one who is looking for the truth – collects as many facts as he can, and draws a conclusion from those facts. He uses his experience and knowledge to discount false leads and bogus information, and hopes he comes up with the truth. Because that’s what the goal is, isn’t it, to find the truth?

Now, folks like Diane Schuler’s family, they go about things differently. They start at the end – they already know what the answer they’re looking for is. They’re desperate to get the facts to back up their “conclusion”. So they find hired gun “experts” to interpret evidence with their slant, pay lawyers like Dominic Barbara, who are willing to say and do anything if the price is right, to work for them. They ignore any evidence that doesn’t fit into their “answer”.

In my opinion, there is no room for argument. Diane Schuler may not have been a full blown alcoholic yet, but she was well on her way to becoming one. And there is absolutely no doubt in anyone’s mind, anyone who doesn’t have an agenda that is, that she was wasted out of her mind when she caused the death of those four little children and those three innocent men.

As I close out this story, I’d like to remind the Diane Schuler’s family about a few things that seem to have slipped their minds in their rush to salvage Diane’s reputation.

Erin Schuler, aged 2; Emma Hance, aged 8; Alyson Hance, aged 7; Kate Hance, aged 5; Michael Bastardi, aged 81; Guy Bastardi, aged 49; Daniel Longo, aged 74.

Remember them?

09/04/09 – UPDATE: DANIEL SCHULER AND DOMENIC BARBARA APPEAR ON LARRY KING LIVE

Daniel Schuler and Dominic Barbara have been at it again. On Monday night, September 1st, the pair appeared on Larry King Live and once again denied Diane Schuler was drunk when she drone the wrong way on the Taconic State Parkway and slammed in the Guy Bastardi’s SUV head-on, killing herself and seven others, including 4 children aged 8 and under.

This was all brought on by the release of Diane Schuler’s final autopsy results, which showed no signs of long term alcohol abuse. As I stated before, it also showed no signs of a stroke, diabetes an embolism, or any of the other ridiculous medical excuses the Schuler family has tries to use to excuse Diane’s behavior before in the hours before the crash.

Diane Schuler’s Autopsy Report

Now Diane Schuler’s family wants her body exhumed for a second autopsy. From what I have been hearing from experts, this is an excellent development. There are so many ways this can blow up in the Schuler’s faces, and nearly no chance of producing the results they are hoping for. This video explains it very well:

As you can see, the family of Guy Bastardi, Michael Bastardi, and Daniel Longo are getting more and more vocal. I’d wager a bet that these are people you do not want to get riled up. My advice to Diane Schuler’s family right about now would be to back off. But they won’t. They’re hell bent on proving Diane was the second coming of Mother Teresa. I think there in for a major disappointment, especially when those hair follicle tests come back. I almost pity Daniel Schuler when the reality hits him in the face – It won’t be a pretty sight.

The pictures, from top to bottom:

1. Diane Schuler
2. The remains of the Diane Schuler’s minivan
3. The minivan from another angle
4. The Hance family. The three girls are, L to R, Kate, Alyson, and Emma
5. Daniel and Diane Schuler, with Erin and Bryan. Bryan has fully recovered from his injuries.
6. Daniel Longo
7. Michael Bastardi
8. Guy Bastardi

I spent last winter on the border of North Dakota/Montana—and if facing a Michigan winter didn’t lead me to this conclusion, then North Dakota winters certainly would have. Being bitterly cold is by far one of the most dreadful positions I have ever been in.

I remember being a child and getting ready to go outside to play in the winter wonderland of my backyard—my mom had a checklist of things my brothers and I had to wear. We started out with thermal underwear, next came jeans and a sweater, then came the snow pants and winter coat. We always finished off with mittens, boots, scarves, and a hat or face mask. Every time, we complained because it was so heavy; but, every time we were so thankful because even with all the gear we always caught a chill and had to tread inside after about 45 minutes or so and warm up in front of the fireplace with a cup of hot cocoa.

I won’t even fathom a guess what it would have been like to be a newborn baby girl wrapped in a cloth and shoved in a plastic bag thrown in a snow bank in Northern Illinois during December and left to face the elements alone.

Let me take you back to Friday December 17th, 2004 and tell you a story.

At a time of year when the smell of Christmas is in the air and the only bad thoughts running through your head are, “what if Santa can’t get down the chimney”, a 13 year old girl let her dog out for a run. The dog came back carrying a piece of bloody cloth; she thought it was odd and went to investigate. Lying in a snow bank on the side of Will Road, about a mile north of Yale Bridge Road in Rockton, Illinois, she found more bloody clothing and something discarded in a white trash bag. She did the smart thing and ran home to call the police. She did not touch the bag.

Police responded to the scene on the cold crystal clear evening and found the unthinkable. Wrapped in the bag was a baby girl, who appeared to be a full term newborn. Even police officers who thought they had seen every grotesque crime possible broke down in tears.

An autopsy was completed on the infant over the weekend and results were released on Monday December 20th, 2004. The autopsy determined the infant was full term and weighed 7 lbs 3 oz and was 19 ½ inches long; she was born alive. The infant named Baby Crystal by investigators, died from exposure. Something completely avoidable.

Investigators blanketed the area and questioned residents near the dumpsite, no one knew anything. Questioned in the initial investigation was Katie L. Stockton, 24; her parents lived on Will Road. Katie did not live in the residence at the time of the crime; she lived with a boyfriend in Rockford, Illinois. Stockton denied the child was hers and no one knew if she had been pregnant.

The public paid for Baby Crystal’s funeral and the investigation stalled. The case was at a stand-still, but definitely not forgotten. Nothing new came until a year later when it was revealed that Baby Crystal had cocaine in her system and tested positive for Hepatitis B (a viral infection of the liver caused by sexual contact with an infected person or the sharing of contaminated needles or instruments).

The only description of a suspect that they had came from a witness who thought she saw a female with black hair driving a red sedan, something similar to a Grand Am or Cavalier, near the scene. The witness wasn’t certain of exactly what she saw because it was dark.

Police checked medical records of female inmates for the previous year and found that 75 were pregnant and 40 of those tested positive for Hepatitis B. They spent weeks checking into these leads; which took them nowhere.

The case lay dormant for months.

After the murder of Baby Crystal, Katie Stockton continued living her life. Not on the straight and narrow. Katie, now 28, has multiple traffic violations on her record, as well as multiple felony arrests and convictions (View Katie’s arrest record here). The most serious charges came forth in August of 2008.

On the 11th of August, she applied for an Illinois State ID card by presenting false documents to a government agency. She was using an altered ID card making it seem as if she was her aunt. She was charged with Presenting False Info for an Illinois ID and Possession or Display of an Altered ID card, both criminal felonies. These charges were ultimately dropped, but they give a little insight into what kind of person she is.

On August 19th, 2008, Katie was charged with forgery. She wrote a check on the aforementioned aunts bank account (maybe the aunt shouldn’t have dropped the earlier charges; just a thought). In September of 2008, she pled guilty to forgery and was sentenced to 180 days in jail and 2 years probation. The court ordered her to give a sample of her DNA within 45 days of sentencing (it is state law in Illinois that all convicted felons submit a sample of their DNA).

In October, she failed to comply with the DNA order. By December 2008, she was out of jail and on probation and still refused to give a sample even though she was ordered to do so by her probation officer. It was the same story in June of 2009. On June 26, 2009, the States Attorney’s office filed to have her probation vacated for failure to comply with the DNA order. There was a court date set for July 13th, Katie appeared in court and denied all allegations. I don’t know what she was denying, since the prosecutor could prove she didn’t submit a DNA sample. The court ordered her to appear again on August 3rd, after they had a chance to look over the case history. She failed to show and a warrant was issued for her arrest.

On August 4th, 2009, Winnebago County States Attorney office charges Katie Lin Stockton with the two counts of murder for the 2004 death of Baby Crystal. One count for intentionally leaving the infant in freezing conditions and one count for knowing death would result in those conditions. Winnebago County Sheriff, Dick Meyers, would not disclose any information regarding evidence leading the charges. He would not confirm or deny whether DNA evidence played a part. The Kansas City Star is reporting that the Kansas City PD, who was assisting Winnebago County in the investigation, say DNA is the link.

On August 5th, Katie was found in Kansas City, Kansas in a hotel. It is unclear whether they tracked her down by using her Facebook page which announced her whereabouts as “being on vacation in Kansas City” or from an anonymous tip. In October 2008, Katie had her probation modified to allow her to visit family and shop in Wisconsin. The court allowed the travel mostly because she has a 9 year old son who resides with his father in Janesville, WI.

Though she had permission to travel to Wisconsin there is no information available stating that travel to Kansas City was permitted. Prosecutors have stated in the media that she was fleeing because she knew arrest was imminent. Katie was arrested at the Kansas City hotel by the FBI. The following day, she waived extradition and went back to Winnebago County voluntarily, where she is being held on a one million dollar bond.

Ms. Stockton appeared in court on August 17th, 2009 for the petition to vacate her probation hearing. Judge Steven Vecchio postponed the hearing at the request of Katie’s public defender, David Doll. He stated that he had only received the case on Friday the 14th and needed time to prepare. Mr. Doll also asked Judge Vecchio to combine the cases, but the Judge left that decision up to Judge Joseph McGraw, who is handling the murder case.

Upon Katie’s arrest earlier this month, authorities realized that they had access to Katie’s vehicle which had been in impound following a traffic stop in mid 2008 where she was driving on a suspended license. The vehicle was left on the side of the road and impounded at a later date. Police investigators and prosecutors decided to search the vehicle, a 1993 blue Saturn, for possible evidence in the Baby Crystal case. This was the same car she was driving in 2004.

What the investigators hoped to find and what they actually found were two completely different things.

Hopes of finding blood, hair, or fiber evidence fell by the wayside when they came across two additional infant corpses wrapped in cloth and plastic bags buried in the trunk. On Tuesday August 18th, a forensic pathologist and forensic anthropologist will conduct autopsies on the infants to determine how long they had been in the trunk, cause of death, and relation (if any) to Katie Stockton. It appears the bodies were in the trunk when the vehicle was towed; but it must be confirmed. I am expecting additional charges to be filed in the near future; not in 4 ½ years.

People who went to school with Katie have spoken with the media and some have acknowledged that they thought she was weird and wouldn’t put something like this past her. Some have said its hard to imagine someone you sat next to in class ever doing something like this. Some people have come forward stating that when the murder first happened in 2004 and she was questioned she just laughed it off as a joke. An old neighbor of hers said he can believe she did it simply based on the way she took care of her son when he was in her custody. He said the boy was extremely thin and always hungry; he fed him almost daily and believes that’s all he got to eat. A testament to her wonderful parental skills.

Though this case is basically hinging on circumstantial evidence right now; I will bet all the change in my wallet that the all the circumstantial evidence will turn out to be true as the day is long that this lady is one sick baby murdering cookie. I will continue to follow the story; and I am close enough to the Chicago area I may just travel for a few hearings and possibly even the trial.