About Me - Brutal Awkening

I was born in California and spent thirty years working as a private investigator. I am also a CEO with expertise in security and executive protection, and I have long served as an advocate for victims. Ten years ago, I relocated to Las Cruces, New Mexico, where I have continued my investigative work alongside my writing.

I have provided security for high-profile figures such as Sharon and Kelly Osborne, Chaz Bono, Molly Ringwald, Queen Latifah, Randy Quaid, and Margaret Cho. 

I  have been involved in security and executive protection at prestigious events like the Golden Globes, the Academy Awards, and more. Additionally, I was a member of several organizations, including The Lambda Legal Defense and Education Fund, The National Center for LGBTQ Rights the California Association of Licensed Investigators, The Doris Tate Crime Bureau, Citizens Against Homicide, Peace Over Violence, The National Center for Victims of Crime, Project Sister, and The Doris Day Animal Foundation. 

People often ask whether being a private investigator is fun and glamorous. Fun? At times, absolutely. Glamorous? Not really—unless, of course, you are a Hollywood P.I.

As a child, I was relentlessly curious, always paying attention to things I probably should not have noticed at such a young age. I saw and overheard more than most children do. Playing spy was my favorite game, though I never imagined it would someday become my profession.

The news offers a filtered glimpse of the world’s darker side, but nothing compares to witnessing it firsthand. I have seen young boys using drugs and drinking alcohol before school. I have observed sexual acts carried out openly—by homeless individuals on the street and by cheating spouses in parked cars. I have stood in phone booths while intoxicated strangers relieved themselves nearby, unaware or unconcerned that I was there. Some cases—particularly those involving child abuse or deeply disturbing behavior—left me so shaken that I cried myself to sleep.

Even my vehicle has not been immune. During surveillance, people have spat on it, smeared mayonnaise across the windows, thrown objects, deflated my tires, and even attempted to steal it while I was inside. Once, two men leaned against my van and bragged about manipulating women with false declarations of love to get sex. Every instinct told me to confront them, but preserving my cover always came first.

These experiences have tested my faith and patience in ways I never anticipated. Many times, I have had to ask God for the strength not to take justice into my own hands. Through it all, I came to appreciate life’s simplest blessings: green grass, quiet streets, clean air, domestic animals, wildlife, and genuinely kind people.

Why stay in a profession that exposes you to so much darkness? Justice. I have the privilege of helping victims and survivors find answers, uncovering the truth, and holding dishonest people accountable. For those who feel lost or powerless, I can offer clarity, direction, and support.

Not every day is grim. Surveillance has also given me a front-row seat to the beauty of the world—crows demonstrating remarkable intelligence, squirrels darting with purpose, dogs and cats wandering freely, and breathtaking landscapes stretching across deserts, mountains, and coastlines. I was once even attacked by peacocks in Mendocino County, California—an occupational hazard I never anticipated.

Being a female private investigator comes with advantages. People rarely suspect me. Security guards open gates with a smile. Children and adults alike confide in me because I appear approachable, often dressed in Disney-themed clothing rather than something intimidating.

My work took on an unexpected level of public attention when Kirby Dick and Eddie Schmidt of Chain Camera hired me to investigate the Motion Picture Association of America’s rating system (MPAA). At first, I did not fully grasp the magnitude of what I was stepping into. The deeper I went, the more disturbed I became. The Classification and Rating Administration routinely rated extreme violence more favorably than something as innocent as two fully clothed women kissing.

As a lesbian, a mother, and a rape survivor, I found this deeply troubling. What message does that send to our children—that violence is more acceptable than love? The bias extended further, with gay and lesbian films consistently rated more harshly than their heterosexual counterparts. That injustice strengthened my resolve to expose the truth.

The experience forced me to reflect on the concept of “normal.” What defines a normal family? Some may not see my life with Cheryl and our family as fitting a traditional mold, yet we raised two remarkable children and now cherish our grandchildren. To me, family is defined by unconditional love, understanding, and showing up for one another. Embracing who I truly am allowed me to find the happiness I had long deserved—happiness grounded in love and sustained by faith.

As I continue my work—whether uncovering deception or helping someone heal from betrayal—I remain grateful. This career has shown me humanity at its worst, but it has also taught me to cherish everything I have. None of it would have been possible without Cheryl and God by my side.

I have been in a loving relationship for thirty-five years. Together, we are helping raise our grandson and granddaughter, a source of immense joy in my life. I recently self-published a children’s book, Oolygalees, co-authored with my granddaughter. I am currently completing my novel, Brutal Awakening, with two additional children’s books and my grandfather’s story, Kid from Hell’s Kitchen, planned next.

Brutal Awakening is both a personal reckoning and a broader examination of power, silence, and survival—offering readers an intimate, uncompromising perspective from someone who lived the reality behind the headlines.

My manuscript weaves together my personal history with the stories of my cases over the past thirty years. These include investigations involving domestic violence, child abuse, rape survivors, murder, terrorism, and kidnapping, as well as work within the entertainment industry. Notable cases and professional associations include Randy Quaid, Marilyn Monroe’s assistant Pat Newcomb, comic-book legend Stan Lee, producer David G. Riggs, the exposure of the MPAA through the documentary This Film Is Not Yet Rated, and my longtime friend Peter F. Paul.

Brutal Awkening is both a personal reckoning and a broader examination of power, silence, and survival—offering readers an intimate, uncompromising perspective from someone who lived the reality behind the headlines.

Why James Patterson Believes Marilyn Monroe Was Murdered

I’ve read about yet another book repeating the same claims about Marilyn Monroe, and I genuinely cannot understand why people continue to buy and read them. James Patterson has just published a new book asserting that Marilyn Monroe was murdered, but this is hardly new information. Many authors before him have made the same claim for decades. His book adds nothing original—it simply recycles theories that have already been published countless times. When are they going to stop?

Marilyn Monroe is found dead.

 On August 5, 1962, movie actress Marilyn Monroe is found dead in her home in Los Angeles. She was discovered lying nude on her bed, face down, with a telephone in one hand. Empty bottles of pills, prescribed to treat her depression, were littered around the room. After a brief investigation, Los Angeles police concluded that her death was “caused by a self-administered overdose of sedative drugs and that the mode of death is probable suicide.”

Marilyn Monroe was born Norma Jeane Mortenson in Los Angeles on June 1, 1926. Her mother was emotionally unstable and frequently confined to an asylum, so Norma Jeane was reared by a succession of foster parents and in an orphanage. At the age of 16, she married a fellow worker in an aircraft factory, but they divorced a few years later. She took up modeling in 1944 and in 1946 signed a short-term contract with 20th Century Fox, taking as her screen name Marilyn Monroe. She had a few bit parts and then returned to modeling, famously posing nude for a calendar in 1949.

She began to attract attention as an actress in 1950 after appearing in minor roles in the The Asphalt Jungle and All About Eve. Although she was onscreen only briefly playing a mistress in both films, audiences took note of the blonde bombshell, and she won a new contract from Fox. Her acting career took off in the early 1950s with performances in Love Nest (1951), Monkey Business (1952), and Niagara (1953).

Celebrated for her voluptuousness and wide-eyed charm, she won international fame for her sex-symbol roles in Gentlemen Prefer Blondes (1953), How to Marry a Millionaire (1953) and There’s No Business Like Show Business(1954). The Seven-Year Itch (1955) showcased her comedic talents and features the classic scene where she stands over a subway grating and has her white skirt billowed up by the wind from a passing train. In 1954, she married baseball great Joe DiMaggio, attracting further publicity, but they divorced eight months later.

In 1955, she studied with Lee Strasberg at the Actors Studio in New York City and subsequently gave a strong performance as a hapless entertainer in Bus Stop (1956). In 1956, she married playwright Arthur Miller. She made The Prince and the Showgirl—a critical and commercial failure—with Laurence Olivier in 1957 but in 1959 gave an acclaimed performance in the hit comedy Some Like It Hot. Her last role, in The Misfits (1961), was directed by John Huston and written by Miller, whom she divorced just one week before the film’s opening.

By 1961, Monroe, beset by depression, was under the constant care of a psychiatrist. Increasingly erratic in the last months of her life, she lived as a virtual recluse in her Brentwood, Los Angeles, home. After midnight on August 5, 1962, her maid, Eunice Murray, noticed Monroe’s bedroom light on. When Murray found the door locked and Marilyn unresponsive to her calls, she called Monroe’s psychiatrist, Dr. Ralph Greenson, who gained access to the room by breaking a window. Entering, he found Marilyn dead, and the police were called sometime after. An autopsy found a fatal amount of sedatives in her system, and her death was ruled probable suicide.

In recent decades, there have been a number of conspiracy theories about her death, most of which contend that she was murdered by John and/or Robert Kennedy, with whom she allegedly had love affairs. These theories claim that the Kennedys killed her (or had her killed) because they feared she would make public their love affairs and other government secrets she was gathering. On August 4, 1962, Robert Kennedy, then attorney general in his older brother’s cabinet, was in fact in Los Angeles. Two decades after the fact, Monroe’s housekeeper, Eunice Murray, announced for the first time that the attorney general had visited Marilyn on the night of her death and quarreled with her, but the reliability of these and other statements made by Murray are questionable. Decades after her death, Marilyn Monroe remains a major cultural icon.

UCLA Archives Box 39

 Please send this letter to the following: 

Administrative Vice Chancellor
Michael Beck
adminvc@ucla.edu

Associate University Librarian for Collections, Research Data
Todd C. Grappone 
grappone@library.ucla.edu

Library Special Collections
Maxwell Zupke 
zupkem@library.ucla.edu

Library Special Collections Archivist
Kelly Besser
kellybesser@library.ucla.edu

Computer Resource and Visual Communications Specialist
Caroline Cube
pinky@library.ucla.edu

LSC Archivist
Douglas Johnson
dejohnson@library.ucla.edu

Joan Greenson Aebi
Daughter of Ralph Greenson
Joan Greenson

Katie Aebi Rodriguez
Granddaughter of Dr. Ralph Greenson
karodriguez@pasadena.edu

UCLA Media
media@stratcomm.ucla.edu

UCLA Chancellor
Chancellor@ucla.edu

I am writing to you today as a concerned citizen and researcher with a deep interest in the ongoing investigation into the death of Marilyn Monroe. For decades, the circumstances surrounding her passing have been shrouded in mystery and suspicion, with many, including myself, believing that the official narrative of suicide is incomplete and possibly inaccurate.

Ariel Investigations, like that of countless others, has revealed troubling inconsistencies and suspicious circumstances, particularly regarding the lack of a suicide note and discrepancies in witness testimonies regarding the location of Marilyn's body.

However, the existence of Box 39, housed within your Special Collections, genuinely fuels my belief that the truth about Marilyn's death remains hidden. The limited access to this box revealed a collection of articles, books, and letters, all centered around Marilyn Monroe and her death, demonstrating the deep obsession of her psychiatrist, Dr. Greenson.

Most notably, Ariel discovered the existence of a manuscript written by Joan Greenson, Dr. Greenson's daughter, supposedly contained within Box 39. This document offers a unique and crucial perspective on the night Marilyn died. Joan claims in her manuscript that her father received the call at midnight, contradicting the official timeline and aligning with witness accounts suggesting an ambulance arrived around 11:30 pm.

The fact that this crucial manuscript and all of the contents of Box 39 remain sealed raises serious concerns. The mystery of why these materials are kept hidden, especially considering that the key individuals involved are potentially deceased, begs further investigation.

I believe that the contents of Box 39 could hold the key to unlocking the truth about Marilyn Monroe's death, potentially revealing the events that led to her untimely demise and, possibly, those who were involved. The public deserves access to this information.

I urge you to reconsider the decision to keep Box 39 sealed. It is a matter of historical accuracy, a tribute to Marilyn's legacy, and a quest for the truth. Please open Box 39 for public access, allowing researchers and the general public to examine the materials.

Remembering Marilyn

One day after Clint Eastwood's 95th birthday came what would have been No. 99 for Marilyn Monroe.

This is said about one who has been dead longer than she lived. She was not the most bankable, certainly not the most dependable, of Hollywood actresses. But from the first time she appeared on screen until she passed this life in 1962, age 36, she was a star.

Dial the time machine back to August 1962, when Monroe's body was found early on a Sunday morning in Los Angeles.

Dorothy Kilgallen, the most quotable Broadway columnist of Monroe's time, was working on a lead that Monroe, once married to a superstar in baseball (Joe DiMaggio) and another in literature (playwright Arthur Miller), had caught the eyes of someone in politics emitting even higher wattage.

It was common knowledge in the White House -- though perhaps not to First Lady Jacqueline Kennedy -- that Monroe had the 35th U.S. president's work phone on speed dial. Kilgallen, a panelist on CBS' weekly Sunday-night game show "What's My Line," all but dropped John F. Kennedy's name in a column released the week of Monroe's death.

But what if it was not the president but his brother Robert, the U.S. attorney general? Biographer Donald Spoto, in his 2001 book about Monroe, puts RFK in the bedroom with the fallen star, whose death was ruled a probable suicide almost before the body was cold.

Another hot item then concerned wedding bells for DiMaggio and his second wife. That rare man to succeed at two national pastimes (baseball and sex), as one wag put it, DiMaggio immediately took charge of her burial, first eliminating perceived undesirables from the guest list: the Kennedys and singer Frank Sinatra among them.

Norman Mailer wrote a book about Monroe -- but who didn't? -- terming the actress as the American man's "sweet angel of sex."

All this for one unlikely to be included with Katharine Hepburn, Bette Davis and Elizabeth Taylor on any career top-10 list of Hollywood actresses.

If Hollywood producers then ever looked at something besides the bottom line or casting couch, they might have perceived something immediately recognized by A-list directors. That one Norma Jean Mortenson lit up the screen whenever photographed, often for great effect in some classic movies of the 1950s, her peak period.

Early in the decade, she stole scenes in "All About Eve," the Joseph L. Mankiewicz-written-and-directed inside look at Broadway. Davis and Anne Baxter received Best Actress Oscar nominations though there was nothing for Monroe, who holds her own in a party scene with 1950's Best Supporting Actor, George Sanders.

At decade's end, she appeared in perhaps Hollywood's greatest comedy, "Some Like It Hot," opposite Jack Lemmon and Tony Curtis in a film written and directed by Billy Wilder with a closing line for the record books.

Wilder, who in 1950 evinced an Oscar-worthy performance from silent star Gloria Swanson in "Sunset Boulevard," filmed the scene that effectively sundered DiMaggio's marriage to Monroe.

The indelible image from 1955's "The Seven-Year Itch" is that of Monroe's skirt top flying high in the air as she stands over a New York subway grating at night. DiMaggio, among the onlookers, might well have engaged in domestic violence on that occasion, historians note.

Miller wrote the screenplay for 1961's "The Misfits," the last major Hollywood effort for Monroe, Clark Gable and Montgomery Clift. John Huston directed what Monroe dismissed as a scorecard of Marilyn's private life. Gable, too old to play the lead as an aging cowboy in a new-age Western, died shortly after the film's release; Monroe got bad press for all but shooing Gable into the grave with her erratic shooting schedule.

In the end, Kilgallen wrote that the LA coroner's autopsy was pretty accurate, that her whole life amounted to a "suicide note." Another view was that she knew too much about certain people to live long and that the list of her possible slayers is lengthy, inside and outside government.

Elton John later wrote a song about Monroe, with "Candle in the Wind" modified after the 1997 death of Princess Diana, another luminary who died young and tragically. As Monroe nears her centenary, can any current entertainment stars expect such tribute when they pass this earth?

Bob Wisener

The Sentinel-Record 

What this article doesn't tell you is Dorothy Kilgallen died on November 7, 1965, with the cause was ruled an overdose of barbiturate and alcohol.  It didn't take long before the first ripples of innuendo about possible foul play begin to spread, and they would soon become wider concentric circles.  Much of the speculation centered around Kilgallen's journalistic investigation of and commentary on the JFK assassination.  The conspiracy theory goes that many people associated with Kennedy--or just those who had some information about the assassination--tended to turn up dead before long.  Dorothy died not long after writing about the Warren Commission report. Some conspiracy theorists felt that some parties who wanted the president dead would want Dorothy dead for the same reasons.

‘Bury them in fruit jars.’ A gay mass murder and the cover-up that followed.

Fifty years after the deadly fire at New Orleans' Up Stairs Lounge, new perspectives consider the atrocities that occurred after the blaze.

Flames shot through the crowded Up Stairs Lounge as bartender Buddy Rasmussen opened the front door to see who had been ringing the downstairs buzzer. Someone had lit the popular bar’s stairwell carpet on fire, and it burned its way up the wooden stairs into the bar, quickly igniting the lounge’s red wallpaper, curtains, and posters of Burt Reynolds naked on a bearskin rug and Olympic swimmer Mark Spitz wearing his seven gold medals, a star-spangled Speedo, and a smile.

Some patrons saw the blaze and ran for the nearest exits or down the stairwell, emerging with their clothes on fire as neighbors raced to pour pitchers of water onto them. Rasmussen began tapping patrons on the shoulder to follow him toward the fire exit at the back of the bar, but many were too shocked by the exploding blaze to move.

The June 24, 1973, conflagration, likely set by a sex worker ejected from the New Orleans bar earlier that night, killed 32 people and injured at least 15 others. 

Yet the reaction to the catastrophe hardly matched the immense suffering the fire caused, and the tragedy was compounded by multiple denials: Public officials refused to issue statements about the fire, and Catholic churches refused to hold funeral services for the victims, whom they saw as unrepentant sinners. The media only reported on the fire briefly or not at all, and some families refused to claim their relatives’ bodies because they didn’t want to acknowledge that they were gay. Three of the victims ended up buried in unmarked graves — two remain unidentified.

To this day, the arson remains unsolved.

Hate crimes reverberate through communities, intimidating an entire class of people. The Up Stairs Lounge had been a safe space in the gay-friendly, tourist-heavy French Quarter. But as bar patrons feared a similar attack on other gathering spots, still others worried that police might start raiding gay bars more often and arresting more men in the name of public safety. Bar owners believed talking too much about the fire could hurt business. And locals just wanted to move on from the horror.

As a result, to this day, even many queer New Orleanians aren’t aware of the most devastating fire in their city’s history, the deadliest massacre of gay men in the U.S. before the June 2016 Pulse nightclub shooting in Orlando, Florida. 

This year, half a century later, there’s considerable important work being done to ensure that the arson and its aftermath are remembered and the deaths memorialized. For the tragedy’s anniversary, a group of community activists, religious leaders, and queer historians partnered with the LGBT+ Archives Project of Louisiana and the Historic New Orleans Collection to organize a weekend of commemorative events at the end of June. 

The weekend, attended by LGBTQ Nation, featured discussions with religious leaders and activists who lent a hand in the fire’s aftermath, artists who have made documentaries and theatrical works based on the event, church leaders concerned with the tragedy’s spiritual legacy, and podcasters and archivists dedicated to preserving its terrible memory. The weekend events also included art exhibitions, film screenings, a memorial service, and a “second line” jazz funeral through the city’s streets to the now defunct bar’s front entrance.

Their work is especially important considering the current backlash against remembering the atrocities America has committed against its most vulnerable communities. Extreme right-wingers are busy denying our guilt over slavery, the genocide of Native Americans, the internment of Japanese Americans during World War II, and the effect these traumas have on minority communities to this day.

But those committed to preserving history aren’t just making artworks and public speeches about the tragedy; they’re also working to ensure that the victims and their families finally get the recognition and empathy they deserve for their loss.

The fire occurred when New Orleans author Johnny Townsend was only 11 years old. Though he saw horrific photos of the aftermath on TV news at the time, as he grew up, he could find little background on what happened. So in 1989 — 16 years after the fire — he began tracking down the bar’s survivors and former patrons with the help of Rasmussen, the lounge’s surviving bartender.

Through interviews and research, Townsend published the first historical account of what happened as well as profiles for each victim in his 2011 book Let the Faggots Burn. The amateur historian struggled to find a publisher, so he eventually published it himself via BookLocker.com. After the 333-page book was released, a son of one of the fire’s victims approached him after Townsend spoke publicly about the book and said that all he had ever known of his father was what his mother had told him: “Your father was a drunk, and he died at a bar.” 

Townsend’s book had given his dad back to him. Today, the historical amnesia is finally being addressed. There are three books about the fire — including Clayton Delery-Edwards’ comprehensive 2014 account, The Up Stairs Lounge Arson, and Robert W. Fieseler’s 2018 nonfiction narrative, Tinderbox.

Three documentaries have been made about the arson, with a fourth in production, as well as one play, a stage musical, four unproduced screenplays, a dance piece, various podcasts, and a permanent art installation.

One of the documentaries, a 2013 short by Royd Anderson, helped the estranged family of World War II veteran Ferris LeBlanc realize that he was one of three “unidentified white males” who perished in the blaze. The city buried his corpse in an unmarked plot within Resthaven Memorial Park, a potter’s field located near the city’s northeastern coast.

Anderson is now working on a documentary called Saving Ferris and pressuring government officials to exhume LeBlanc and give him the proper military burial that he deserved.

Max Vernon’s 2017 stage musical, The View UpStairs, depicts a snarky gay fashionista millennial who buys the dilapidated Up Stairs Lounge to launch his flagship store but is then magically transported to 1973, just before the fire. Despite its tragic content, it has been seen by over 100,000 people — Off-Broadway, in multiple U.S. cities, as well as in England and Australia — and has been translated into Japanese and seen by 20,000 theatergoers. Drag legend RuPaul called the musical “fantastic.”

By Daniel Villarreal Wednesday, October 25, 2023

Three Times Divorcee Marilyn Monroe

 When the name Marilyn Monroe is mentioned, a singular, unforgettable image often springs to mind: the iconic moment in The Seven Year Itch, directed by Billy Wilder, where Monroe’s white dress billows up as she playfully tries to push it down. This scene takes place as her character and her date exit a movie theater on the streets of New York City, with the breeze from a subway grate playfully teasing her dress, almost lifting it above her head.

Amidst thousands of mesmerized onlookers watching the scene being filmed, there was one individual who was anything but pleased – Marilyn Monroe’s husband at the time, the renowned Italian baseball player Joe DiMaggio. His fury was evident as he witnessed the iconic dress-blowing moment, which is believed by many to have been the final trigger that led to the end of their marriage.

Did Marilyn Monroe’s Flying Skirt Ended Her Marriage? Their love for each other was undeniable, yet Joe DiMaggio couldn’t help but feel embarrassed by Marilyn Monroe’s status as a Hollywood s*x symbol. He would often become flustered when she confidently embraced her sexuality in front of the cameras, and the moment with the flying white dress was no exception.

As her dress fluttered upwards, thousands of onlookers erupted in cheers, chanting, Higher! Higher! This lively scene is depicted in the book Marilyn Monroe: The Private Life of a Public Icon. “DiMaggio’s face, rigid with tension, had gone white,” the book revealed. 

As noted in the autobiography, this particular moment proved to be a turning point that eventually led to the end of their marriage. Even after their separation, Monroe and DiMaggio maintained a deep connection until her passing. In a heartfelt conversation, she expressed her wish for him to place a rose on her grave every week after she was gone

“Every week, until his death in 1999, DiMaggio had fresh roses delivered to Monroe’s crypt. He never remarried, and on his deathbed, his last words were, ‘I’ll finally get to see Marilyn again.'”

Controversies Didn’t Leave Marilyn Monroe After Her Death. Throughout the years, Marilyn Monroe’s legacy has been intertwined with various controversies and conspiracy theories. Following her death from an alleged drug overdose, numerous speculations have emerged. 

Gianni Russo claims to have had a relationship with Marilyn Monroe, and I do not beleive him at all! 

Tarrell McClendon

Tarrell McClendon was born on July 15, 2005 in Stockton, California. He was the youngest of his 7 siblings. He had a very happy and active childhood.

He was involved in sports from a very young age. He was a member of the Delta Little League (4+ years), North Stockton Bengals (3+ years) and played basketball through the Delta Sierra Middle School after school club. When he went on to high school, he continued to pursue football, representing #16 at. Bear Creek High School.

His image was everything to him. He kept up with his hair. He made sure he was getting routine cuts and buying all the best hair products. Stepping out in his best outfits was important to him! His clothes always matched his shoes, and his attitude always matched his look!

He loved cooking and baking. His two favorites were shrimp alfredo and chocolate chip cookies! He learned to cook from his mom and sisters. He found peace being around his friends and family. He would go on bike rides with his friends after school or on the weekends. He loved to go to the movies with his family or binge watch Netflix shows at home. Music was his gateway. He would blast music and dance around in the living room. 

At one point in his life, he wanted to be a rapper/musician.He was selfless. He never hesitated to help someone in need or show concern for others. Many people who speak of him know him for his kindness and willingness to lend a hand. He was tough. He stood up for himself and others when he needed to. At the age of 15, Tarrell was living life to the fullest. He had hopes and dreams for a wonderful and successful future. 

However, on December 17, 2020, while riding his bicycle a few houses down from his residence, Tarrell was brutally and senselessly shot down; murdered by occupants in a vehicle driveby.

Stockton Police Department obtained a videotape of the car, but to date unable to identify the occupants. There are those (perhaps many) who know what transpired that day on December 17th during the early afternoon—broad daylight. It is time for them to come forward with information that will help solve this case. If anyone has information, anonymously submit

tips to Stockton Crime Stoppers at (209) 946-0600. Tarrell’s family deserves answers and he deserves justice.

THE MURDER OF JOAN BUE BUTTERBACH

Joan Bue Butterbach disappeared on October 5, 1971; she was 45 years old. She was 5'-5" and was of a medium build with light brown hair and green eyes. She would list her occupation as Housewife. She had been married 25 years to John “Jack” Joseph Butterbach. They had 3 adopted children, two twin boys approximately 13 years of age and a little girl who was approximately 10 years of age. They lived a comfortable, middle class life.

Joan left her home in Waukesha, WI during the early morning hours of October 5, 1971. She was on her way to Bird Island, MN to visit friends and then a three-hour drive down to the Bue family farm in Chatfield, MN to visit relatives. The only known clothing she was wearing was her brown tweed coat, 3⁄4 length. Unknown dress or shoes. She was driving a 1969 green Mustang. She was never seen or heard from again.

In tracing her route, she drove Wisconsin I-94, prior to the exit (right) into Menomonie, she stopped at a Mobil Gas Station to fill up (per gas receipt). Straight ahead (past the Menomonie exit), is the exit for the Twin Cities in Minnesota that veers to the left. What happened to make her veer off her path and turn right down the Menomonie exit is anyone’s guess.

The Mobil Station at the time did car repair work, so if there had been a fender bender, the mechanic could have taken care of it. There would have been no need to drive into Menomonie. Is it possible that Joan may have either decided to grab a bite to eat in Menomonie and/or someone impersonating a sheriff’s deputy could have lured her that way? Being such a small town, if Joan had been approached at the service station, the attendant would have sensed foul play and interceded. Unless, of course, it was an official sheriff’s deputy or... perhaps the Sheriff himself(?)

During the summer of 1972, local kids discovered a submerged vehicle in Tainter Lake, Menomonie, WI. They used it to dive from into the cool waters. (This “lake” looks more like a river as it is approximately 50 yards wide. On one side is a Supper Club called Jake’s and directly across, on the other shoreline, is the boat launch that was used to launch the car into the water).

The kids had reported to authorities that the car was there and went so far as to break off a windshield wiper to prove their finding. It would be safe to say that many (if not all) of the town’s 11,112 residents knew there was a submerged car in the water. This included the Sheriff of Dunn County, Sheriff Daryl “Corky” Spagnoletti, who took no interest or action. Why?

(Note: Many of these children who swam this lake and played hooky to go fishing there, grew up to become sheriff deputies and one became the chief medical examiner of Dunn County.)

In April of 1977, the lake had to be drained for some repair work on the dam. As the waters receded, the car became visible and there was no more ignoring that it was down there.

On April 18, 1977, after the car was pulled from Tainter Lake, the plates were run through the teletype system. The report came back that it was in direct connection with a missing person case. Upon prying the trunk open, a body was discovered, later identified as Joan Bue Butterbach. Also confirmed, the vehicle was Joan’s 1969 Ford Mustang with Wisconsin plates M4586.

Sheriff Spagnoletti ordered the car towed to the fairgrounds where the crime lab began processing procedures. The body was removed and an autopsy was done. Dental records confirmed the body was that of Joan Butterbach.

In processing the vehicle, it was discovered the headlight switch on the vehicle was in the “on” position; the ignition was in the “on” position; the spare tire was removed from the trunk and was placed in the backseat; the throttle assembly was taken apart, the spring was removed and it was locked into a wide open position. This allowed the car to be catapulted down the boat ramp and into the water without assistance from a driver. The only other damage to the car was the pry marks on the trunk caused by the deputies and damage to the right front passenger side quarter panel (this was in direct line of damage to a tree at the entrance to the boat landing).

Apparently, it was common practice for all sheriff departments to send their evidence to Madison, Wisconsin to be stored. Finally, the day came when Madison informed all the municipalities they would be sending their evidence back to them, they just did not have the room for it anymore. Upon receiving Joan’s murder evidence, Spagnoletti had it destroyed. Now, in a murder investigation, it is state law that evidence must always be preserved. Never disposed of.

There were two “Red Letter Day’s” for Joan’s killer. First, the car purposely being left submerged in the lake for 6 years and then all the evidence destroyed. The evidence Included clothing, jewelry and some sort of binding that was used.

Wisconsin did send their elite cold case detectives to look into this homicide. The Wisconsin DOJ report that the cold case detectives put together was shared with the family, but that was all. They refused to provide them a copy. The current Sheriff provided no further info except that most of the report was their investigative questioning aimed at Daryl Spagnoletti.

The family was not provided a copy of the autopsy report nor a copy of the Mobil receipt with Joan’s signature.

When the car was discovered, the Waukesha Police Department (WPD) was dispatched to Menomonie and said they would be taking over the case. Unfortunately, the family was told that in 1992, volunteers at the WPD had changed all the old reports to microfiche and in that process the reports in reference to the Joan Butterbach homicide were misplaced. To this day, the reports have not been located.

Spagnoletti said in an interview with Investigator Travis Mayer that he had learned through the Waukesha detectives that Joan had no connections to Menomonie, only the Twin Cities. Since Joan had already been driving a good 5 to 5-1/2 hours and had another 3-hour drive to Bird Island, did she decide to drive into Menomonie to grab a bite to eat at Jake’s Supper Club? Since her husband was a sales rep for Mobil Gas (and had stopped there many times in the past), could he have suggested this stop before heading to Bird Island? What happened before, during or after her stop in Menomonie? Who accosted her, murdered her and then discarded her body and car in Tainter Lake?

It has been almost 52 years since the disappearance and murder of Joan Bue Butterbach. Someone holds the key which will unlock this mystery. No one is above the law, especially those who are sworn to uphold and protect it. If anyone has information, please do the right thing and come forward. Call the Dunn County Sheriff’s Office Tip Line at (715) 231-2907. Her family deserves answers and justice.

What do I think? I think Sheriff Spagnoletti did it.

Sisters of the Holy Family of Nazareth

The Martyrs of Nowogrodek were eleven Roman Catholic nuns in Poland who offered to sacrifice their lives in place of Polish civilians who were scheduled to be executed by the Nazis.

Nowogrodek was in eastern Poland at the time (now it is in Belarus). When the Nazis and Soviets both invaded Poland in September 1939, Nowogrodek was in the agreed Soviet portion of Poland.

But when the Nazis began the invasion of Russia in June 1941, the Germans occupied the town.

In 1942 the Nazis exterminated the 10,000 Jews in the town, then turned on the Polish Catholics. Thousands of Poles were arrested. Relatively few Poles were executed, but two priests were among them.

The nuns, members of the Sisters of the Holy Family of Nazareth, contacted the Gestapo and offered their own lives in exchange for the release of 120 Poles who had been slated for execution.

The Nazis actually took the nuns up on their offer. Most of the 120 condemned Poles were spared and sent to labor camps; a few were released.

Then on 31 July 1943, the sisters were packed into a van, driven to the forest outside of town, and gunned down. They were buried in a mass grave. 

On 28 June 1999, Pope John Paul II confirmed that the eleven sisters were martyrs, and beatified them.

After the war, the grave of the sisters was located and today their remains are in the local Church of the Transfiguration.

The word “courage” gets tossed about rather carelessly these days. This is a reminder of what real courage is.