The media portrayal of Charlie, Charles, and Bobbi as reluctant participants whom Erin had persuaded to kill her family was completely unbelievable to me. I’d never met Charles Waid or Bobbi Johnson, and I had no knowledge of them. But Charlie had been in my house. I saw how he dominated and controlled Erin, how he always had to know where she was and what she was doing. I saw how angry Charlie was when we took Erin’s cell phone away from her for a while. I witnessed the changes in Erin after she started back to public school and was with Charlie every day. I could believe that Erin was influenced; I couldn’t believe that she was the influencer.
But even if I was wrong, no matter what she had known or what she had done, I intended to stand by her. I forgave Erin, just as I forgave Charlie, Charles, and Bobbi, and nothing would ever change that.
When I began to do interviews with the media about the case, many people misinterpreted my support of Erin and my belief that she had not been the mastermind. They saw me as a grieving father who was desperately clinging to my daughter because she was all I had left. They often concluded that I was ignoring the evidence and living in denial. It’s true that I greatly feared losing Erin and hoped that somehow God would work a miracle and restore her to me. But even then I wasn’t unaware of the evidence. There are entries in my journal where I say as much.
On June 16, the day I met with Lisa Tanner in Tyler, I wrote:
I just want all the court issues to go away so that I can deal with the loss of my family. Even though Erin is still alive, I feel as though I have lost her as well. From what I am seeing as far as the evidence goes, it doesn’t look good for her. I keep praying that God will perform a miracle and all will go in our favor. All the lawyers and prosecutors are saying she is going away for a long time, and that scares me so much.
But although I hoped and prayed that somehow God might give me my daughter back, those prayers didn’t grow out of a denial of the situation. Rather, they grew out of a deep conviction that nothing is impossible for God.
In the Old Testament, when King David’s baby lay sick and dying, David fasted and prayed and mourned before the Lord, asking that God might deliver the child. When the baby died, David’s servants were afraid to tell him because they thought he might harm himself. But to their utter surprise, when they finally told him about the baby’s death, David got up, washed, and asked for food. The servants couldn’t believe what they were seeing. But David told them, “While the child was still alive, I fasted and wept; for I said, ‘Who knows, the Lord may be gracious to me, that the child may live.’ But now he has died; why should I fast? Can I bring him back again? I will go to him, but he will not return to me” (2 Samuel 12:22-23).
As Erin awaited trial and we went through court hearing after court hearing, I prayed for her release, reasoning as David did, Who knows, the Lord may be gracious to Erin and me and perform a miracle. That did not happen, but my praying for it to happen did not constitute denial.
Erin has been slow to reveal details of what happened that night, perhaps because she fears losing me and my love. Throughout those first few months, I often thought that she was all I had left in the world; alone in prison, perhaps she feels that I am all she has left. One thing that Erin consistently writes in all her letters to me is, “I love you, Daddy.” I love her, too, and I always will.
I have forgiven Erin completely, and even if I were to learn a few months down the road that all the allegations against her were true, it would not change a thing. My forgiveness of my daughter is not partial, nor is it based on half-truths or denial. The Scriptures tell me that I must forgive others the same way God forgave me (see Colossians 3:13). God knew everything there was to know about me, saw my sin laid bare before Him, and yet He gave His Son, Jesus, to die in my place. He not only forgave all my sins; He also paid the price necessary to make that forgiveness possible.
How could I do any less than that with Erin?
Nevertheless, as we moved forward, it would be important that our relationship be based on honesty. Erin’s counselor had told her that it was time she told me the whole truth. And so we met on that bright, sunny Saturday to revisit the darkest night of both of our lives.
ERIN’S STORY 5
“Was it really your idea to kill us?” I asked.
Erin shook her head. “We were both really angry that you and Mama wouldn’t let us be together. We talked for more than a month about running away together, but I kept saying that it wouldn’t do any good because y’all would just come after me. Charlie said that he could keep you from coming to get me, and I said, ‘Oh yeah? How would you do that?’ That’s when he told me that he had a friend who would help him kill y’all if we paid him. I said, ‘I don’t know, that’s crazy. Let me think about it; there’s too much going on.’ We thought about it and talked about it, even at school. It was just my way of venting because you didn’t like Charlie, but it was like a game to me.”
“What happened that night?” I asked her.
“The plan was to run away. I kept calling him because I wanted to meet him down the road. But at the last minute I changed my mind and decided not to run away. That’s why I left my bag in the house when I went out to meet them.
“When they pulled up, they said ‘Hurry up. Get in.’ Charlie was really mad because I didn’t have my bag, so we drove around for a while, drinking and trying to decide what to do. First, Charlie said he’d sneak in and get my bag and we’d just run away. But Charles Waid said, ‘I came to kill, and I want my money.’
“Charlie and Charles kept going back and forth about whether or not to do it. It was like a game. It didn’t seem real. Finally I got tired of them arguing and said, ‘Fine. Just go do it.’”
I looked at her and said, “So you knew what they were going in there to do?”
Erin’s eyes filled with tears, and she nodded.
“They said that you were talking about how awesome it was after the fact, and that you wanted to go in and see the bodies. Is that true?”
“No,” she said. “Bobbi and I were both crying. Charlie and Charles were the ones who came out high-fiving and talking about how great it was. I didn’t even know how Mama and the boys died.”
“The prosecutors told me. Would you like to know?” I asked.
Erin’s voice was quiet. “Yes.”
“They shot Mama in the head. Later they came back and cut her throat. I don’t know why they didn’t do that to me, too. Maybe they thought I was already dead.
“Bubba was trying to fight Charlie off and keep him from hurting him and Tyler. Waid came up the stairs behind Charlie and shot Bubba in the head too.
Erin was fighting to keep control of herself. “What did they do to Tyler?”
“Tyler was hiding in the back corner of your closet. Waid stabbed him from behind. Then Charlie took his turn. It was like they were stabbing a rag doll.”
Erin broke down and sobbed.
When she regained her composure, I pursued some other questions.
“When I met with Lisa Tanner, she said that you’d asked another boy to kill us before you and Charlie discussed it. Did you do that?”
She shook her head. “I told him I hated you and that I was mad at you. I never mentioned wanting y’all dead.” 6
“When they came to get you, who quieted Max?”
“When I went out, Max was nowhere in sight. Buddy [Tyler’s chocolate Lab puppy] came up to me, and I held him and petted him until they came.” 6
“What about your travel bag?” I asked. “Why did they throw it in the creek?”
Erin looked puzzled. “I don’t know. I’d like to know that myself.”
We talked a while longer, and before I knew it, our two hours were up. I hugged Erin and watched as she went back through the door toward her new home. I made my way back through the sally ports and gates, back to my car.
WALK IN MY SHOES
I believe Erin. Nevertheless, there are still unanswered questions between us. One of those is, who
quieted Max, our black Lab mix? Max barked at everything. I had heard him bark earlier, but he didn’t make a peep during the attacks. Someone had kept him quiet.
Other questions disturb me too. Once when we visited Erin, she said that she had a great life with Penny, the boys, and me. She said that we were the greatest parents and that she did not live a sheltered life, as some members of the media reported. But if that’s so, how could she go down such a bad road, go behind our backs, drinking and having sex? How could she let someone like Charlie tear down what her mother and I had spent sixteen years building? The only answer I can come up with is that we are all sinners, and our enemy Satan is alive and well and attacking the family. He still prowls around like a roaring lion, looking for someone to devour (see 1 Peter 5:8).
There are still other questions and gaps in the story that I have not yet been able to fill in. For those, I give Erin the benefit of the doubt. Perhaps she doesn’t remember; perhaps she’s not yet ready to talk. I do not believe that my daughter is innocent, but until I receive undeniable proof to the contrary—or she tells me so herself—I will not believe that she masterminded the murder of her mother and brothers. And if people take my willingness to accept my daughter’s word over the word of two admitted child killers as proof that I’m in denial, then so be it.
When I decided to tell my story publicly, it was because I believed that it could benefit others. But the public reaction to some of the media pieces has taken me by surprise. Most people were encouraging and supportive, but some online posts cut so deeply that for a time I regretted the decision to allow the media to tell this story. In fact, I was so discouraged that for a time, I was ready to give up on ministry altogether.
Not only have I been accused of being in denial about Erin, but some have even said that there must have been something wrong with our family: Penny and I were abusive, or Erin was too sheltered because she was homeschooled, or a number of other suggestions too unkind to print here. Some criticized me for leaving my burning house too quickly, suggesting that I didn’t do everything in my power to save my family. A few have concluded that I must not have loved Penny and the boys very much because I remarried so soon after their deaths. Others have predicted that my new marriage won’t last. Still others have suggested that I am trying to profit from my family’s tragedy by writing a book about the murders.
In response to those who judge me, I recall something Bubba wrote in his journal less than two months before he died. On January 10, 2008, he wrote, “To me, the Native American proverb, ‘Never criticize a man until you’ve walked a mile in his moccasins,’ means don’t judge somebody by the way they may appear.”
I’ve written this book so that people may, in a small way at least, walk in my shoes. Writing about the murders and what followed has been a painful experience. In the process, I’ve had to relive many things that I would rather not have thought about again. I’ve reopened a lot of wounds that only recently had begun to heal. I would never want anyone to have to live through a tragedy such as mine. But if by reading this book, people can see God’s goodness and faithfulness, then it will have been worthwhile.
If you were to ask me what I have learned through all of this, I could summarize it in one simple sentence. Ironically, it’s a sentence that inmates of every race and color chant in prison chapels across the United States: “God is good, all the time. All the time, God is good.”
In the midst of horrific tragedy: God is good, all the time.
When all seems lost: God is good, all the time.
When nothing in life makes sense: God is good, all the time.
When our pain seems too great to bear: God is good, all the time.
When our world is spinning out of control: God is good, all the time.
And because God is good all the time, we can press forward and go on with life. We can continue to serve Him because even when we don’t understand the circumstances, we know that the God and Father of our Lord Jesus Christ is Lord of the circumstances. We know that He is sovereign, He is in control, and He is good: “We know that God causes all things to work together for good to those who love God, to those who are called according to His purpose (Romans 8:28).
All the time, God is good.
5 This section is a composite of several conversations between Terry and Erin.
6 Max survived the attack and was adoped by a local family.
Epilogue
The Sounds of Home
IT’S DIFFICULT TO PUT into words how much my life changed in less than a year. If it were a vessel, in 2008 it went from full to empty, empty to shattered, shattered to restored, restored to full, and finally, full to overflowing. At the end of the book of Job, God restores Job and doubles his wealth. As I look back on all that has happened, I feel that I have likewise been doubly blessed. I am not wealthy by any means, at least not materially. But the Lord has poured out blessing upon blessing over this past year.
It’s interesting that when God restored Job, He gave him twice as much material wealth as before. But He gave him the same number of children Job had at the beginning of the book: seven sons and three daughters. I used to wonder why the Lord didn’t double the size of Job’s family.
But as I thought about it, I realized that He did—because Job never lost his first family. Not really. They were dead, but they were with the Lord. So when God gave Job seven more sons and three more daughters, his family doubled. And I imagine that now they are gathered around God’s throne as one large family.
Even though I have remarried, Penny, Bubba, and Tyler will always be a part of my life. They have gone on to be with the Lord, but they are far from dead. Often I recall the words Brother Todd spoke at their funeral: “Penny, Bubba, and Tyler are more alive right now than they were when they were here with us.” That’s true. And I look forward to the day when we’ll all be together again. I don’t know if there are musical instruments in heaven, but if there are, you can be sure that Penny will be at the piano. Bubba will have a harmonica and a guitar. As for Tyler, well, he’ll probably be looking for a puddle to jump in or a rope to swing on.
I still go out to the cemetery to visit them. Recently Sonja and I found a small bronze statue, about a foot tall, of a little boy and his dog, riding in a little wagon. The boy and dog are both wearing floppy hats and goggles. It reminded me so much of Tyler and his chocolate Lab puppy. He would put that puppy in his wagon and pull him all around the yard. We bought the statue and took it out to the cemetery along with a few Hot Wheels cars for Tyler’s tenth birthday. Sometimes I just have to marvel at God’s providence in arranging a resting place for my family so near to where I would be living when I married Sonja. 7 Even before I fell in love with her, the Lord was working behind the scenes.
As much as I loved my first family, I am also thankful that God brought Sonja, Blake, and Tanner into my life. As He did with Job, God has doubled my family. I lost a wife and two sons, and He has given me back a wife and two sons. Blake and Tanner remind me so much of Bubba and Tyler that it’s almost spooky. At my darkest moments, I never imagined that I would have the joy of raising a family again and watching two sons grow up. But God has done it. He has restored me completely.
God didn’t need to give me another daughter, because Erin is still with me. Our situation is different, and it will be many years before we have even the possibility of being together in an unstructured, unsupervised environment. Nevertheless, Erin is here, and she is part of my new family. When I visit her, Sonja goes with me. Sometimes Blake does too. Tanner will have to wait until he’s seventeen (TDCJ rules).
We are thankful for the time we can have together.
There’s one thing that is different about my relationship to my new family. I take nothing for granted. Before this tragedy, I took little notice of the mundane things of life, the things that happen every day. The sound of Penny’s dryer creaking and clinking at bedtime because she forgot to start the load earlier. The sound of Bubba and Tyler arguing
over a TV program or some other unimportant thing. The sound of Erin talking on the phone and giggling with a girlfriend long after she should have gone to bed.
In the past, I didn’t pay much attention to these things.
Now, that’s different. Through all that has happened, I’ve learned to savor life, and I try to extract the last ounce of joy and delight from every moment. I’ve learned not to take anything for granted because I know that it can all be gone in an instant. I take in every sight, every sound, and I enjoy them all—even those mundane things.
A clinky dishwasher.
Two boys arguing over the remote control.
They’re the most beautiful sounds in the world.
The sounds of home.
7 Terry sold his property shortly after marrying Sonja. He also sold the RV in which he had been living.
Appendix A
Terry’s Journal
AT THE SUGGESTION of his counselor, Terry began keeping a journal of his feelings during the months of his recovery. He started making journal entries early in June 2008 and continued to the end of July. The entries cover the period of time from the day Terry moved back to his property until shortly after he fell in love with Sonja.
This journal is, in part, the source material for chapters 20 through 24. We have included Terry’s journal as an appendix because it gives a more complete picture of his internal struggles and growth after he found the page from Blind Sight. The entries have undergone light editing in the interest of clarity, but they are substantially as Terry wrote them.
JUNE 7, 2008 – 7:30 A.M.
Today I woke up with both excitement and fear, for today after three months and seven days I am going home. Maybe not home as I once knew it, but I’ll be moving my RV onto my land. I have such a sense of peace to go home, but yet my heart races with fear and anticipation as I move forward, not knowing what lies ahead. Will I have a peace and a joy to be back where my family once was, with all the wonderful memories? Or will fear take over and will I be able to stay there? So many questions race through my mind this morning as the anticipation floods my soul. Only time will tell. So today is a big step forward for me. So today I lean on God and Psalm 71:16, “I will go in the strength of the Lord.”
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