In response to the unending requests for information about Colonel Parker Schenecker, CENTCOM at MacDill Air Force Base released a statement on Tuesday, February 1: “Colonel Parker Schenecker has returned from his deployment and is grieving with family and friends. He is devoted first and foremost to honoring the lives and memory of his beautiful children, Calyx and Beau. Parker and his family have been touched by the overwhelming support from the community both near and abroad. Arrangements and details are still being finalized with regard to the services to be held for Calyx and Beau.”
CHAPTER 34
That Tuesday, Detective Sandel went to Beau’s school, Liberty Middle in Tampa Palms, to meet with the young man’s teachers. School staff placed Sandel in a conference room near the main office. Each of Beau’s instructors reported there for a short interview.
History teacher David Calhoun said, “Beau’s a good student. We joked together about sports and video games.” He added, “Beau never mentioned any issues at home and appeared to be a very happy kid.” In response to the detective’s question about his student’s attendance, he said that he thought Beau had been absent on Wednesday but could not be certain without checking his records.
Sophie Dikizeko, Beau’s French teacher, said, “He was an A student in my class and was rarely absent. He was an active participant in class and asked questions regularly.” She, too, did not recall Beau mentioning any problems at home.
Beau’s tech teacher, Daisy Questella, had been his business instructor for the past two years: “He’s one of my best students. He was a happy and respectful kid.” A sad smile crossed her face, and she added, “He was so excited about making the school soccer team.” She thought Beau might have been absent from school on Monday but was not certain. He never talked to her about his home situation, either.
Language arts teacher Allison Newton said, “Beau had been a C student, but he recently dropped to a ‘D.’ I sent a note home to advise his parents of the grades, but I never heard back from them.” She believed that Beau had been absent on Monday and Wednesday of the last week.
“Did he ever mention any issues at home?”
Ms. Newton furrowed her brow. “No, he hadn’t,” she said.
The science teacher Stephanie Jones was the next to enter the conference room: “Beau is a well-liked student with a great attitude. I’ve known him since sixth grade.” She knew that he missed school on Monday because he told her that he’d slept in late and his mother didn’t want to bring him to school.
Beau’s physical education teacher, Jessica Rosquette, had also known Beau since sixth grade: “He’s a very competitive kid. He never mentioned any problems in his home environment.”
Math teacher Melissa Grier echoed the comments of many others about his home life and said that Beau was a typical B-C eighth grader.
* * *
Across town, Detective Sonja Wise mirrored Sandel, going to the C. Leon King High School, walking through halls filled with students decked in silver, green, and black. She talked to the teachers who taught Calyx. Her track/cross-country coach, Gary Bingham, had a bit more insight into the Schenecker family than any of the Liberty teachers seemed to have.
He said that Calyx had been a member of the track team for two years: “I’ve met and spoken to the entire family during that time, both at track meets and at sport banquets.”
“Did you observe any problems between Calyx and her mother?”
“Not that I’ve seen,” he answered. “But back in October, Mr. Schenecker told me that Calyx may not be attending all the practices and meets because she was being disrespectful to her mother. He also said that the whole family was in counseling.”
“When did you last see Calyx?” Wise asked.
“Thursday, January twenty-seventh, at track practice, from three to four thirty. Calyx said her mom was there to pick her up and she left.”
“Did you see her mother?”
“No,” Mr. Bingham said. “I saw the white van but did not see Mrs. Schenecker.”
“What was your impression of Mrs. Schenecker?”
“She appeared to be fine at times and, at other times, she seemed kinda not all together or zoned out.”
“And Calyx?”
“She was always happy and smiling.”
IB trigonometry teacher Shauna Shaw said that this year was the first time she ever taught Calyx and she knew nothing personal about her: “She was very respectful, had a good attitude, and appeared to be very sociable with her friends.” Shaw added that Calyx had, however, requested a recommendation for a boarding school in Miami.
Paul Jannereth, AP European history instructor, agreed with Mrs. Shaw’s impressions regarding Calyx’s interactions with her peers. “She had an ‘A’ in my class.”
“Calyx was a good student—very focused on her studies. I had no reason for concern about her well-being,” IB English teacher Twila Dickerson said.
AP art history teacher Michele Prado said, “Calyx was quite bright and very focused, but she always seemed tired.”
Her AP human geography instructor, Karly Dell, remembered Calyx as a refreshingly innocent and friendly student: “I didn’t observe anything that would cause alarm.”
Chemistry teacher Vithal Patel said that Calyx never interacted with him but noted that she was very bright. Carly Eslick, her Spanish teacher, was the only one who said Calyx struggled in class. And homeroom teacher Lindsey Plyer said, “Calyx is focused and polite, but my contact with her was very limited.”
Rusty Davidson said that Calyx had been in his physics class for just three weeks and he never had any interaction with her.
IB counselor Rosanna Hoit told Detective Wise that she was familiar with Calyx and her family: “In ninth grade, I counseled her about academic concerns. She was able to overcome her perceived obstacles and excelled in her classes.”
“Were you aware of any problems in her home?” Wise asked.
“I knew about the case with the Department of Children and Families. They called me in October or November last year. I returned their call and told them there was no record of issues with Calyx based on her physical appearance, academic standing, or behavior.”
“When did you last see Calyx?”
“I talked to her on Thursday about her request for a recommendation to boarding school. I asked her to bring me a list of her extracurricular activities and interests so that I could include them in my letter. Calyx promised to bring that in on Friday.” But by Friday, Calyx was already dead.
Not one of the teachers observed any evidence of or heard Calyx speak about any problems at home. None of them ever conducted any parental meetings or conferences.
In the context of logic, one would expect that it would take an escalating, rampant course of misbehavior to push a parent into violence against their teenage children. But, in this case, the opposite was true. Two very good, well-behaved children were killed through no fault of their own.
CHAPTER 35
Tragedies, although they can bring out the best in people, also have a tendency to stir the despicable into action. Bogus memorial fund-raising happened after horrific damage caused by Hurricane Katrina and in the aftermath of the devastating earthquake in Haiti. The murders of the Schenecker children brought out the mercenary parasites to feed on the sorrow and horror of this crime, as well.
One phony fund draped in military mufti claimed to be raising money for Beau’s soccer team and Calyx’s cross-country squad. People typing in “Julie Schenecker” on Google or other search engines found links directing them to YouTube videos about celebrities, partially clothed women, and an apparent pyramid scheme.
Parker issued a warning on the morning of February 2. He said that the family had not yet set up anything: “Any such website which bears the Schenecker name is unauthorized, misleading, and merely an attempt to exploit this tragedy and deepen the sorrow of a community trying to heal.”
* * *
Another piece of darkness fe
ll on the day when the Westboro Baptist Church announced their plans for a protest beginning at 5:15 p.m. and lasting until the beginning of that night’s memorial service for the Schenecker children. The congregation has made a habit of trumpeting their convictions while disrupting funeral services connected to the military and to the deaths of homosexuals.
The revolting statement released by Pastor Fred Phelps and director of creative ministries Josh Saliba read: “God sent the shooter to Tampa, Florida.… Murderous mother kills rebellious children while father is off playing bloody war games, fighting for same sex marriage. GOD SMACK!… The mother is a military wife and the doomed American military declared war on God & His church.”
A group opposing the church’s mission, the Florida West Coast Riders, promised to be on hand with American flags unfurled to help shield family and friends from the potentially hurtful messages on the signs carried by the disturbed and disturbing protestors. “It doesn’t matter to them at all. They get out there with their bull horns and their nasty signs and they get attention … that’s what they want,” said Thomas Brown of the Florida West Coast Riders. “They’re all about being offensive and we do what we do in a respectful way.”
Despite their threats to the contrary, the Westboro flock did not show up. Their statement was sufficient to meet their desires: creating fear and anxiety in the mourners and garnering attention for them, their church, and their warped viewpoint.
* * *
At six o’clock that evening, King High and Liberty Middle Schools sponsored a celebration of life service at First Baptist Church in Temple Terrace. The memorial event was closed to the general public; only students and teachers at the two schools were allowed to attend.
Hundreds packed the sanctuary. Parker Schenecker sat in the front room listening as friends and teachers stepped up to share memories of the Schenecker children. The grieving father stood to hug each person after they finished speaking.
A video played with a series of photos of Calyx and Beau. In the background, Lee Ann Womack sang “I Hope You Dance.” Throughout the showing, Parker wiped away tears—as did many around him.
Teenagers played instruments. The gathered mourners sang “Amazing Grace.” Parker was the last person to stand behind the podium. Speaking publicly for the first time since the tragedy devastated his life, he said, “I can’t thank you enough for today’s moving, loving memorial for my exceptional children, and for your tributes through the past few days. Whether you wore some blue or some Harry Potter glasses,” he said with a bittersweet smile stealing across his face, “whether you lit a candle, laid a flower, or signed a soccer jersey, you honored my children, your devoted friend, your classmate, your teammate.
“The family and I are humbled by your support, grace, and overwhelming love for Calyx and Beau. They love you, too. Please don’t forget how they lived.”
Not one person mentioned Julie Schenecker. Not a word was spoken about how the two teenagers died.
Pastor J. P. Clouse prayed at the end of service referring to all the things nobody said: “There’s a lot of people out here that have real feelings of hurt, questions of why. It’s hard. And that’s okay.”
In the lobby, after the ninety-minute service, a long line formed to write messages to the kids whose photos were perched on a table—Calyx wearing a red clown nose, running cross-country, dancing, and acting goofy with her friends; Beau always smiling, sometimes looking mischievous.
Language arts teacher Allison Newton swore that in her classroom Beau’s seat would remain empty for the rest of the year in memory of the young boy whom no one would ever forget.
* * *
On February 3, Patty Powers got to see her daughter for the first time since her arrest. With a few other family members, Patty visited with Julie for almost an hour.
Parker signed a release, on February 4, signing over the white Honda van to the USAA insurance company. Doubtless, he never wanted to see that vehicle again.
* * *
The following day, Parker attended a memorial service at MacDill Air Force Base. The one-hour private service at the base included speakers, music, and a video tribute to Calyx and Beau. The predominately military audience, who, for the most part did not know the children, attended to honor the grief of the father and fellow serviceman.
Parker stood before them and said, “Today is another day on our journey to healing. While sadness seems to lurk right behind us every step of the way, I assure you that today’s wonderful tribute to my children will keep me looking ahead.”
* * *
Parker had one more memorial ordeal to endure, the most final one of all, the funeral of his children in his hometown of Fort Worth. In advance of the service, lengthy obituaries ran in the Fort Worth Star-Telegram. It included the times for the memorial service and details of family left behind along with praise for the lives the children led and the essence of who they were.
On the morning of Tuesday, February 8, Calyx and Beau were laid to rest in a private burial ceremony, conducted by Wittich Funeral Home. At 2:30 that afternoon, more than one hundred mourners entered the fifteen-hundred-seat auditorium at the nondenominational Christ Chapel Bible Church, in the Arlington Heights neighborhood, for the memorial service.
It was a more formal setting than the previous remembrances, complete with flickering candles and a grand piano on the stage to accompany soloists and the congregation as they joined together to sing hymns. A white cross adorned with a large arrangement of white roses stood in front of the speakers’ podium.
Only two people addressed this audience, Senior Pastor Ted Kitchens and Parker Schenecker, but the same video was shown as at earlier memorials featuring photographs of baby Beau on the beach and in action shots from his soccer games and Calyx dressed as a fairy and competing at track meets.
Pastor Kitchens spoke of the relatives and friends whose lives had been brushed by the unique spirits of Calyx and Beau: “This afternoon, we celebrate their lives, in Jesus’ name.”
He said that though it was impossible to understand how God could allow a tragic end to such brief lives, everything—good and bad—is part of a grand plan. Pastor Kitchens assured them all that Calyx and Beau were not hurting: “They are looking over their shoulders and they see us coming.
“Someday God will reveal the reason to us and that’s our hope.” He remembered Calyx and Beau as leaders in their own young ways. Calyx, he said, had recently helped organize a fund-raiser relay for the American Cancer Society that netted more than one hundred thousand dollars. He said that one of her relatives called her sublime and said she was a mature soul inside a young body, filled with life and light. Beau was known for his energy and sensitivity to others: “What could have been is remarkable.”
Then, the grieving father stepped up on the stage and shredded the emotions of everyone in the room. He began, “First and foremost, my family would like to thank Christ Chapel Bible Church, Dr. Ted Kitchens, and Bill Runyon for opening your doors and hearts to us. Mom, Edmund, this homecoming was absolutely the right decision.”
Parker paused before beginning the body of his address. He looked down, then raised his head to look at the crowd: “Silence, brothers, innocent spirits have passed by.” His eyes looked heavenward as he paused again. “As I mourn the loss of my loved dear children, I am comforted that they have both been welcomed to the other side, and heaven is rejoicing in their coming.
“I will deeply miss Calyx and Beau. And I have a feeling that even though some of you didn’t know them well or at all, through Dr. Kitchens’ kind words and this beautiful service, you now feel their presence—something the rest of us know all too well. Today, we celebrate the way they lived, and I will spend the rest of my life doing just that.
“I encourage others, especially those who join me in mourning Calyx and Beau, to help keep the essence of their spirits alive by being kind to others and by living their lives with purpose. I know my children were loved; they knew they were lov
ed; now we all must go forward to honor them with love and respect for each other.
“Hug your children—every chance you get. Draw your loved ones closer to you so that you may love and be loved. And, if I may be so bold, if this grieving dad can ask you just one thing: Remember Calyx and Beau Schenecker and rejoice for having known them.”
After the service, he released a statement about his loss to the media that ended with this exhortation: “Help keep the essence of their spirits alive by being kind to others, by working and playing hard, and by living your lives with purpose.”
CHAPTER 36
On February 10, the grand jury met to consider Julie Schenecker’s case. At the end of their deliberations, they released an indictment charging her with two counts of murder in the first degree, premeditated. Count one alleged that she
did unlawfully and feloniously kill a human being, to wit: Beau Schenecker, with a premeditated design to effect the death of Beau Schenecker or any other human being by shooting him with a weapon, to wit: a firearm, and during the course of the commission of the offense, the said Julie Schenecker carried, displayed, used or threatened to use, or attempted to use a weapon, to wit: a firearm, and actually possessed a firearm and discharged a firearm, and as a result of the discharge, death was inflicted upon Beau Schenecker, contrary to the form of the statute in such cases made and provided.
The language in the second count was identical to the first. The only difference was that in the place of Julie’s son’s name “Calyx Schenecker” was entered into the official legal language of the charge. Julie was now eligible for the death penalty. The only decision that remained for the state was whether or not they would pursue it. The stage was set for her next appearance in court.
* * *
The next day at the C. Leon King High School, students gathered in the interior courtyard to make one of Calyx’s dreams come true. They planted the willow Calyx wanted to see on the campus, representing the Whomping Willow in the Harry Potter books. Around it were commemorative bricks: one engraved with Calyx’s name embraced by hearts and the message “No Ostuary Left Behind”; another with the words “Battle On” flanked by lightning, below that “Dumbledore’s Army”; and the one from good friend Tatiana Henry read: “Our friendship is immortal. Miss you.”
Sleep My Darlings Page 13
