by Burl Barer
Fear, according to human behavior specialist Dr. H.B. Danesh, is the primary component of all violence. Violent aggressors, he asserts, are afraid of everyone and everything, most especially themselves. Andrew Webb was constantly afraid that people were stealing from him, and Paul St. Pierre was continually paranoid. Irrational fears acted upon with anger and violence are, as previously noted, symptoms of both congenital and acquired psychopathy. Although there is no known cure, all cases of acquired psychopathic behavior are preventable.
Prevention of severe head injuries—the primary component of acquired psychopathy—is a primary objective of the Brain Injury Association (BIA). Founded in 1980, it is dedicated to creating a better future through brain injury prevention, research, education, and advocacy. This is done in part by providing information, support, and hope to family members, by increasing public awareness of brain injury, planning for the development of services for persons with brain injury, and developing programs aimed at its prevention.
The association’s HeadSmart Schools Campaign, along with the Brain Building Basics and Changes, Choices, and Challenges programs, encompasses a wide variety of activities, from elementary school curricula to antiviolence initiatives. BIA also reaches a wide spectrum of professionals with its “education first” mentality. Conferences and symposia designed with the practical needs of attendees in mind take place locally, nationally, and internationally. From physicians and rehabilitation specialists to trial lawyers, educators, and pharmaceutical representatives, no need or desire is overlooked. A variety of public figures frequently appear on BIA’s behalf, including BIA chairman and former presidential press secretary James Brady; actors Beau Bridges, Cameron Bancroft, Joan Collins, and Ben Vereen; sports heroes, such as football legend Frank Gifford, former NHL player Brett Lindros, and former Olympian Jim Beatty.
The Brain Injury Association’s forty-seven state associations offer detailed information about a variety of specialized resources within particular regions across the country. The national toll-free Family Help Lines that directs callers to appropriate and geographically accessible physicians, therapists, attorneys, and other professionals, as well as peer and family support groups, is 1-800-444-6443.
Accidents involving motor vehicles, bicycles, motorcycles, and school sports were once the primary sources of traumatic brain injury (TBI). Shifts in our global American culture, however, are now presenting us with a broader and more insidious primary cause for brain injuries: violent behavior, including child abuse, such as shaken infant syndrome and injuries caused by domestic violence. Researchers have found that the head is indeed a primary target in domestic attacks against women and the effects of these batterings can result in cumulative brain injuries. Women who care for survivors of TBI are a high-risk group for this kind of acquired brain injury due to sudden outbursts of violent behavior by the person for whom they care.
Violence is a major cause of brain injuries in the United States. Brain injuries are a significant risk factor for the subsequent development of violent behavior. Prevention efforts must focus on the reduction of both violence and brain injuries.
Dr. H.B. Danesh, author of A New Perspective on Violence, asserts that nonpsychopathic violence is symptomatic of an underlying social disease—disunity. “Violence exists when unity is absent,” says Danesh.
Noting a parallel between violence and illness, Dr. Danesh urges the adoption of the same preventative strategies against violence that one would utilize to acquire or maintain optimum health. Distrust, competition, self-centeredness, inequality, injustice, separation, and disunity are all, notes Danesh, “fertile grounds for the development of violence.”
Lifestyles, families, and societies encouraging and demonstrating the exact opposite of these violence-fostering characteristics may be our most powerful weapon in reducing violence-induced head injuries—the number-one component of acquired psychopathy.
Reducing physical violence and encouraging greater safety precautions in sports, cycling, and motor vehicle operation do not address the other aggravating factors of psychopathic behavior. New brain-imaging techniques, such as MRI and PET scanning, have shown neuroscientists that adolescence is a period when the developing brain is vulnerable to traumatic experiences, drug abuse, and unhealthy influences.
In the scientific journal NATURE, researchers presented evidence that part of the reason teenagers aren’t good at risk-taking is that the brain isn’t fully developed. Risk-taking leads to accidents—the primary cause of death among adolescents—and nonfatal traumatic brain injury.
Craig Harris at the University of Massachusetts Medical Center in Worcester asserts that adolescent experiences can determine how people will behave for the rest of their lives. Bullies, for example, are easily created. According to Harris, if you place an adolescent hamster in a cage for one hour a day with an aggressive adult hamster, it will grow up to become a bully who picks on smaller hamsters; when faced with a hamster its own size, it will cower in fear. Once again, research confirms that fear is the underlying component of aggression. “All bullies are cowards” is simply another way of stating that all bullies are filled with fear, whether they be schoolyard bullies, political dictators, or violent sociopaths.
“If the environment provokes or encourages aberrant behaviors, those behaviors become the norm,” said Jordan Grafman of the National Institute of Neurological Diseases and Stroke. We need only look at the inappropriate sexual norms experienced by Dolores Webb and the consequences of those experiences on her own children to validate Grafman’s remark.
The massive amounts of alcohol consumed by Andrew Webb and Paul St. Pierre certainly did them no good. Research at the University of North Carolina recently tested the sensitivity of the adolescent brain to binge drinking. The results, published in the November 2000 issue of Alcoholism: Clinical and Experimental Research, advanced the hypothesis that this damage is a component of alcoholism.
So overwhelming is the task before us—preventing acquired psychopathic behavior—that it calls for nothing less than a turnaround at the deepest seat of our social consciousness, a new vision in which realization of our essential unity is absolute and unquestioned.
This is not a vague longing for the unattainable. Indeed, this very concept is regarded by an increasing number of thoughtful individuals as not only an approaching possibility but the necessary life-saving outcome of our current social situation.
Our world, contracted and transformed into a single highly complex organism by the marvelous progress achieved in the realm of physical science, by the worldwide expansion of commerce and industry, by the stunning advancements in lightning-speed communication, cries out for an end to fear-born violence.
One individual’s efforts can influence the lives of thousands. For more information on preventing the characteristics of psychopathic behavior, or the alleviation of various aggravating factors, consult the following resources. All efforts are valuable. Perhaps someone reading this book will save a life, prevent an injury, cheer the downcast, free the captive, awaken the heedless, or bring new life to someone whose life seemed without hope or purpose. If so, Damon Wells and John Achord did not die in vain; rather, they sacrificed their lives for the future well-being of others.
Burl Barer
January 4, 2001
ACKNOWLEDGMENTS
This horrific story of homicide, lies, blame, betrayal, beatings, incest, molestation, and madness was adapted from three interrelated cases that implicated three perpetrators in two grisly murders. The criminal proceedings stretched over an entire year, generated over 700 pages of clerk’s papers, over forty volumes of trial transcripts, and raised a significant issue concerning possible violation of the United States Constitution—an issue ultimately resolved by the Washington State Supreme Court.
Condensing such elaborate and complex events, issues, and interpersonal relationships into a comprehensible narrative would have been impossible were it not for the exemplary cooperation
afforded the author by Detective Robert Yerbury of the Tacoma Police Department and others too numerous to mention individually, who appear within these pages. Suffice it to say, the help of the city of Tacoma, the Tacoma Police Department, Travis Webb, the Tacoma School District, the Pierce County Prosecutor’s Office, the Washington State Supreme Court, the various defense attorneys who, at one time or another, represented the defendants, and the friends and relatives of primary characters is much appreciated. The history of the Tacoma Police Department was provided by the city of Tacoma, and based upon original research by Officer Erik Timothy.
Conversations and statements recounted in this book are adaptations of such as recalled from memory. For purposes of clarity, concision, and continuity, statements, conversations, legal arguments, and certain testimonies necessitated condensation and emendation.
The families of Damon Wells and John Achord, for understandable reasons, decided not to participate in this project. The various siblings of Andrew Webb cooperated in varying degrees, the most forthcoming being Gail Webb. Her two former sisters-in-law Anne and Marty made significant contributions of their time, memories, and emotions. The author has made every effort to preserve accuracy of fact and portrayal. Any errors are unintentional. Karen Haas is the long-suffering editor who put up with my literary eccentricities, and did everything in her power to assure you a positive reading experience. Gratitude is also expressed to my kind, compassionate, and talented agent, the unflappable Charlotte Dial Breeze, and my entire extended family for their support and understanding.
UPDATE FOR 2012 EDITION
John Achord and Damon Wells are still mourned by those who knew and loved them, and Achord’s relatives often send e-mails to me or post on my website.
In a heartfelt outpouring to me, Achord’s niece, Angela, wrote:
Johnny Achord was my uncle. We used to have a lot of fun at family gatherings. I remember once we were all at uncle Dennis’s house for a barbecue, and when it got dark, all us kids went outside in the front yard to play. It was okay because the fire department was next door, and the sky was full of stars. I asked what makes a star, and Johnny said, “That’s for all you kids afraid of the dark. It is holes that are punched in the sky so it won’t be so dark.” I believed him.
I remember the car accident where he was in the coma and woke up a different person. He loved his family again, and started going to church. Grandma Opal said she had her son back. I remember when he was still missing; my mom and grandma Opal hired a psychic to help find him. Mom told me the lady saw something in her vision but she didn’t know what it meant: she saw a concrete wall with a red car parked next to it and some bucket next to the wall. This was before we knew about his head, or any bucket, or that he was dead.
Mom told me about how they got to go into the house on 43rd, and the carpet was pulled up and the hardwood floors had bloodstains on it, and all over the bathroom on the walls were tabs with writing on them. They were told there was more than just the two people’s blood present. I have a box in my garage with the newspaper articles and his missing poster my mom sent to me during all this because I lived in California for a year while all this was happening.
I also remember my brother Mark was at that same Rush concert, and saw Johnny there after it was over. Mark asked him what he was doing afterward, and if he needed a ride home. He said that he was gonna go hang out with some people and he had a ride. I wish so much he had just taken the ride from Mark.
If John had taken the ride from Mark, Paul St. Pierre would have certainly killed someone else, instead. Out there, somewhere, is someone who, albeit indirectly, owes his or her life to John Achord.
Having served their sentences, Andrew Webb and Christopher St. Pierre attended their thirty-year highschool reunion. St. Pierre is now in a wheelchair; and the Andrew Webb of the twenty-first century is not the Andrew Webb who slashed Damon Wells’s throat, helped bury John Achord, survived being shot by Paul St. Pierre, conned a prosecutor, and brought souls to Christ in Washington State Penitentiary.
Webb found Jesus in prison and that’s exactly where he left Him upon release. His commitment to Jesus lasted only as long as his incarceration. Andrew Webb abandoned Christianity and returned to his long-standing fascination with the gods of Norse legend. The post-prison Andrew Webb authored a well-reviewed and exceptionally scholarly book on North European native religion, and founded a nonprofit religious corporation to do “good works and community service.”
“Andrew earned several college degrees while behind bars,” his nephew, Travis, revealed. “He has degrees in anthropology, philosophy, religion, and business.”
Once a recalcitrant troublemaker with a violent temper, Andrew Webb has conducted “Handling Hostility” seminars for numerous organizations, volunteered at homeless shelters, and counseled at-risk youth. All this is certainly preferable to home invasions and murder.
“Andrew is Andrew,” Marty, his former sister-in-law, said. “He has always been an ace manipulator. Did you know that as soon as he was out of prison, his ex-wife started spending time with him and my ex? Maybe it’s so his kids can have some sort of relationship with him, but as I don’t want anything to do with Andrew or his brother, I don’t see much of her anymore. That poor family is so screwed up. Hell, I was part of it. There were nine kids in the Webb family, and I don’t think any of them could possibly have gone through what they went through without being damaged, to one extent or another. Some have owned their lives, and have reached out to others. One of them is just plain nuts, if you ask me. I could go down the list, but there is no sane reason to expect otherwise when you consider Mrs. Webb’s upbringing and mental illness, and all the murders and madness that went on. That was so different from the St. Pierre family. Paul was never right in the head, and the booze and drugs made him worse, but Christopher was a real nice kid, who would never have gotten into any of that trouble were it not for his big brother.”
Christopher St. Pierre, the sweet young boy with the promising future, the one who went to the police, the one who wanted nothing to do with the lifestyle of his deranged brother, spent the most time in prison. He is the one most fondly remembered by those who knew him in high school, and the author receives e-mails from those who, to this day, cannot believe that a good kid such as Christopher St. Pierre could have ever been involved with such heinous behavior.
Stacey Anderson, for example, remembers the St. Pierre brothers, and retains a marked affection for the younger Christopher. “I knew Chris St. Pierre, and fairly well,” recalls Anderson. “I attended 6 years at Stewart Jr. High and Lincoln High Schools with him. It was at Stewart that we shared several classes and became buddies. Until reading this book, I had completely forgotten about his heart condition and surgery, and then as I read the memories came flooding back of that cute kid and him telling me about his heart and showing me his scars. And I also remember just loving his thick luxurious head of hair which at the base of his neck he had a small patch of blond, almost like a weird little hair birthmark, and couldn’t resist playing with it and teasing him—he sat directly in front of me in Geography class. We had to be pulled in line quite often for talking in class. When they say this was a good kid—he was!”
According to Stacey Anderson, even as a 7th grader at the young age of 13, Christopher St. Pierre possessed a magnetic personality. “[Chris had] a dry, ironic wit that could send me into fits of laughter. And he remained to be just a sweetheart of a guy all through school to graduation ... then, I lost contact with him. Then in June 1984, I will never forget my best girlfriend Kathy (who knew Chris from kindergarten on up, lived just up the street from the St. Pierres) calling me at about 11:30 at night with the shocking news on the front page of the Tribune. I remember literally having to stop her as she was reading and relaying the horrible details of what they had done so I could take a breath and try to absorb what she was telling me. I remember saying, ‘Stop it!! NO WAY!! How can this be??—NOT Chris!!’ It was so mind b
oggling and heartbreaking for all of us who grew up with him to find out this was his fate. And the shocking nature of what they were involved in right at our back door was beyond comprehension.”
Anderson lives only a few blocks away from the house on Pacific Avenue where much of the tragic story took place. “There is not a time we pass by Erickson’s and that house to this day that my mind does not go to the eerie and frightening visions of what went on there. It’s never faded. Same thing when we have to go into Fife and pass over the Puyallup River Bridges that I don’t think of what happened to John Achord. As gruesome as it all is, in the end it is just an absolutely tragic tale. And learning the slick moves made between the prosecutor and Andrew Webb is just revolting, making the story even more profound.”
As for memories of Paul St. Pierre, he has taken on almost an iconic image of evil to kids from the old neighborhood. “There are tales told to this day,” said Anderson, “of how screwed up Paul always seemed to be. Tales of things he may have done or not have done ... Tales of how blood thirsty he seemed, and the joy he seemed to take in bragging about his guns and murder. One of our closest friends who was Paul’s best friend during their Stewart Jr. High years was drinking with him one night at Ray & Gene’s Tavern and then over at the house not long after the shooting at IGA, and he tells how Paul was just going on and on and on about it and couldn’t let go of it, and it just freaked our friend out to no end. He says he made an excuse and a hasty exit and never went back. You can see the eeriness on him to this day when he recalls that night.”
