Lessons from the Dead

by Diane Fanning

When I travel to a high school to speak to students, I take with me the lessons I have learned from the dead -- how not to become a victim, how to recognize warning signs in a relationship, how to trust your intuition.  Because, in most instances, the victim has contributed to their victimization.

Ask any seasoned violent crimes investigator.  They'll tell you that they rarely see a totally innocent victim.  Something the person did or didn't do set them up for the predator.  Did that mean they deserved their fate?  Absolutely not.

 

The fact is that predators are constantly on the lookout for vulnerability and opportunity.  Controllers seek relationships with those they can dominate.  They all prey on our weakness, and we need to know how to conceal it from them.

 

It is especially true of adolescents, who often do not think past the present moment, do not believe they will die, and find it easy to accept something that is too good to be true.  So I strive to teach them the discernment they need to help them not become victims. One case that I often speak about is the murder of Bobbie Lynn Wofford.

Bobbie Lynn made one big mistake: she lied to her mother.

She said she was going to the lake for the Fourth of July weekend in 1999 with a friend and her family.  Instead, her friend picked her up at the house to deceive Bobby Lynn's mother, then left her with a group of kids that Mrs. Wofford did not trust.  Did they harm the girl?  Not directly.

They did drop Bobby Lynn off at a convenience store at two in the morning.  She had no ride home.  She knew she could call her mother but also knew if she did, she'd get in trouble.  Thinking that was as bad as it could get, Bobby Lynn accepted the first offer of a ride she received from a man in the parking lot.

Unfortunately for Bobby Lynn, that man was serial killer Tommy Lynn Sells (right). By the time the 15-year-old listened to the demands of her intuition, it was too late.  Her body was not found for more than four months.

 Whether I am talking to a small class of students or a group of 300 stuffed into every available space in the library,  when this story is finished, silence fills the pause.  I scan the faces and see tears on some cheeks and fear in most eyes.

No matter how careless they are or how risky their behavior, many of these teenagers will never encounter a serial killer.  But they will all have a relationship, probably many of them in their lifetime.  I talk to them about the red flags they can encounter there.  I talk about physical abuse leading to homicide.

 

In the absence of violence, I caution them not to be complacent when analyzing the safety of a relationship -- sometimes the only incident of abuse is the ultimate one -- murder.  I tell them about my books with stories of one spouse killing another.  In nearly every case, there is controlling behavior.  I've told them what it looks like and how, in the hands of a clever manipulator, it can look like a symptom of true love.

 

I warn them about another red flag -- secrets.  I talk about serial killer Richard Evonitz, who had a foot locker that neither of the women he married were allowed to open.  In it, he hid the underwear of victims and newspaper clippings of his crimes.  I discuss Michael Peterson (above, between his attorneys in court) and Richard McFarland ,who both had an office that no one else was allowed to enter.  One hid the secret of his bisexuality, the other hid a compulsion for multiple rebate entries.

The substance of what was hidden in the secret place was irrelevant -- it was its existence that presaged a problem.  I urge the students to evaluate their relationships and make troublesome behavior stop or get as far away from the person using it as they can.

I am gratified when I look out over the group and see girls elbowing the boy next to them or raising eyebrows in their direction.  I knew they got it, I hope they remember it, and I hope knowing it will make a difference in their lives.

Finally, I try to impress them with the importance of their own intuition.  It's hard for all of us to listen to it when we're being pulled in an opposite direction.  For teenagers it is a constant battle -- walk away from what a gut feeling says is a bad thing and be a social outcast.  Or do what feels like the wrong thing to go along with peers.  Gavin De Becker wrote THE GIFT OF FEAR, an informative and important book about the need to obey our instincts and respect our valid fears. I encapsulate its essence in the time remaining in a class period.

I know, though, as I look at over the students, that some will never learn any lessons from the dead.  Some won't make it to adulthood because of it.  Others will live to a ripe old age but encounter a lot of avoidable difficulty along the way because they cling to adolescent insecurities and the senseless fear of looking foolish.

 I can only hope that the message will get through to some of them -- that they will learn, remember and, one day, use it to save their lives -- or the life of a child yet to be born.

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