Mon. Nov. 5, 1976
Mom, Dad, Rik, April, Mike, Angel
—Everybody knows that i Love and Care for You.
Please do not resent my leaving this life.
I'm not trying to hurt anyone—if I could spare you all any pain—surely would.
But i just go. Because i want to so bad.
Wanting a thing like that—and not granting it to myself—would surely turn me into some bitter ugly old maid in just a matter of time—or possibly I would lose my sanity.
I think you all pretty much understand about me and Gary. if you don't well time will tell all.
i Love him. More than life and more than that.
And i Love you all very much. i could never have asked for a better family. We've been over a few rough spots a time or two—but i hope that any wrong i've done anyone will be forgiven me as easy as i forgive.
i don't want to talk anymore, i'm sorry i should have written this sooner, i had so much to say.
Well, all will ultimately be clear and right just know that i love you all today and i will love you always.
Please try also not to greive for me—or resent Gary.
PART TWO
Exclusive Rights
Chapter 6
WAKE
Four months after the morning that Kathy Maynard found Nicole in bed with an overdose of Seconal, journalists were still coming around with tape recorders. Their interest in Nicole was great, and curiosity about Kathy herself was small, but it is a technique of some interviewers to begin by asking each witness, important or unimportant, many questions about their life.
INTERVIEWER How old were you when you got married?
KATHY MAYNARD Sixteen.
INTERVIEWER Why did you get married at sixteen?
KATHY MAYNARD 'Cause my other friends did..
INTERVIEWER And who did you marry?
KATHY MAYNARD Tim Mair from Heber City.
INTERVIEWER How old was he?
KATHY MAYNARD (snickers) Seventeen.
INTERVIEWER Seventeen, well what was he doing?
KATHY MAYNARD He was working at a lumber mill.
INTERVIEWER And where did you meet him?
KATHY MAYNARD Out in front of the school. On a lawn.
INTERVIEWER How long did you go with him before you married him?
KATHY MAYNARD 'Bout a month.
INTERVIEWER Where did you get married?
KATHY MAYNARD At his house in Heber..
INTERVIEWER Why did you get married at his house and not yours?
KATHY MAYNARD Because my mom was living in a motel.
INTERVIEWER Was your mother happy about you getting married or what?
KATHY MAYNARD No, she was pretty shook up—she didn't want me to.
INTERVIEWER He's got the peanut butter jar, is that okay?
KATHY MAYNARD Kevin, put the peanut butter up! Come on!
INTERVIEWER How long were you married?
KATHY MAYNARD Ohhhhh, let's see—three months.
INTERVIEWER Had you slept with him before you got married?
KATHY MAYNARD Oh yeah. (snickers)
INTERVIEWER Right. And uh, what happened to that marriage?
KATHY MAYNARD He killed hisself.
INTERVIEWER He killed himself?
KATHY MAYNARD Uh huh.
INTERVIEWER While you were married?
KATHY MAYNARD Uh huh.
INTERVIEWER Why—I mean what happened—what's the story surrounding it?
KATHY MAYNARD Well, he was drinking and we was going to Provo, we was Christmas shopping . . . and he stopped on the way out of PEDRO and bought a hunting knife, and I didn't think nothing of it . . .
INTERVIEWER Right.
KATHY MAYNARD And coming back we was arguing 'cause he kept rolling the window down and it was cold so when we got back to mom's . . . he started arguing with me again and my mom was asleep, she was working graveyard, and I just asked him if he would be quiet you know . . . if he'd keep his voice down so it wouldn't wake Mom up and he got mad and walked out the door. I was in bed.
And then he turned around and come back and he flipped the light on, had his knife out and said, "Watch," and he stabbed hisself.
INTERVIEWER Right in front of you?
KATHY MAYNARD Uh huh. Kevin put the peanut butter up!
INTERVIEWER Do you have any idea why he did it?
KATHY MAYNARD I don't know—He shot hisself in the foot once.
INTERVIEWER When you were married?
KATHY MAYNARD Before we was married because I was with another guy.
INTERVIEWER Right.
KATHY MAYNARD Kevin, go play for a minute.
INTERVIEWER Did you blame yourself?
KATHY MAYNARD Ohh, I did for quite a while 'cause it kinda shook me up 'cause I thought well, if I hadn't been fighting with him . . .
INTERVIEWER Uh huh.
KATHY MAYNARD I don't know, after talking to quite a few people I realized he was sick and needed help.
INTERVIEWER Where did he stab himself?
KATHY MAYNARD Well, it was in the stomach. They couldn't get the bleeding stopped to tie his arteries so he got into shock and loss of blood . . .
INTERVIEWER Did he die in the—in the apartment?
KATHY MAYNARD Oh no, he died in the University of Utah . . . in Salt Lake . . . two days later.
INTERVIEWER Two days later?
KATHY MAYNARD Uh huh.
INTERVIEWER And uh, you weren't pregnant at that time or anything?
KATHY MAYNARD Well, I was pregnant—my twins were Tim's.
INTERVIEWER And did you know you were pregnant at that time?
KATHY MAYNARD No!
INTERVIEWER How long after he died did you know you were pregnant?
KATHY MAYNARD Ohhh, Why don't you bring me the peanut butter and the lid, okay? Uhhh, let's see I had missed one period but I wasn't worried about it because I had messed up before so . . .
INTERVIEWER So you found out about it two months later then?
KATHY MAYNARD Yeah.
INTERVIEWER You say that with a sigh—
KATHY MAYNARD Ohhh, kind of messed me up. Like I say, l married Les Maynard two weeks after Tim died so . . .
INTERVIEWER You mean you got married right after Tim died?
KATHY MAYNARD I met Les at Tim's funeral.
INTERVIEWER Did you know Les Maynard before or what?
KATHY MAYNARD Didn't even know who he was.
INTERVIEWER How come he was at the funeral?
KATHY MAYNARD He was one of Tim's friends. He knew Tim.
INTERVIEWER Right. So you met him at the funeral? What happened after that?
KATHY MAYNARD Uh huh. (pause) Well, I was staying with my cousin and her husband and Les came down—I stayed drunk for two weeks after Tim died . . .
INTERVIEWER Stayed drunk?
KATHY MAYNARD I did. (snickers)
INTERVIEWER On beer, whiskey or what?
KATHY MAYNARD Oh, you name it—we had it. I took all the money from Tim's funeral and just bought booze with it and Les stayed down there with me for two weeks and then we got married . . .
INTERVIEWER Why did you marry Les?
KATHY MAYNARD Lonely. I guess I was scared.
INTERVIEWER And why did he marry you?
KATHY MAYNARD I have no idea—maybe 'cause he felt sorry for me.
INTERVIEWER You never discussed it with him?
KATHY MAYNARD No.
INTERVIEWER Arid how was your marriage with Les?
KATHY MAYNARD Awful.
INTERVIEWER From the very beginning?
KATHY MAYNARD Well, after I sobered up and realized what I had done I couldn't stand him to touch me and I—I would sit up at the cemetery by Tim's grave all the time and I threw my wedding ring on Tim's grave. So, I was pretty messed up—for a while I took off for a couple of months, which caused a lot of problems, started jealousy and stuff like that . . .
INTERVIEWER When you took off, did
you start to make it with other guys?
KATHY MAYNARD Oh no.
INTERVIEWER You just took off to be by yourself?
KATHY MAYNARD Yeah.
INTERVIEWER So you were never in love with him.
KATHY MAYNARD It wasn't love. It couldn't have been. But I think it kind of grew to that. After we had the kids.
INTERVIEWER The first two?
KATHY MAYNARD Hmmm, hmmm [yes].
INTERVIEWER And how long did you live with him?
KATHY MAYNARD Couple of weeks.
INTERVIEWER You only lived with Les a couple of weeks, too. When was the last time you saw him?
KATHY MAYNARD Les? Ha, ha, day before yesterday.
INTERVIEWER So you see him periodically?
KATHY MAYNARD Hmmm, hmmm, he's with my best girl friend.
INTERVIEWER When he comes back, and sees you, does he make it with you or what?
KATHY MAYNARD Oh no.
INTERVIEWER Did you and Les ever get a divorce?
KATHY MAYNARD We're going through it now.
INTERVIEWER What does he do now?
KATHY MAYNARD Works at a service station out in Spanish.
INTERVIEWER Spanish Fork?
KATHY MAYNARD That's it.
Kathy had been waking Nicole up every morning. In order to get out early to see Gary, it was necessary for Kathy to come by. Most days, Nicole just couldn't wake herself.
On that special sunrise, Kathy took the coffeepot over, and knocked, and rang Nicole's bell, then looked through the window to see Nicole asleep. She was lying stomach down on the couch. You could see a little of her bare back. After Kathy had rung awhile, she tried the door. It was locked, which kind of bothered her. She returned the coffee to her own house, went back, and started calling Jeremy's name until he finally woke up and came out of the bedroom.
He was still half asleep and just flopped down on the couch beside Nicole. He was wearing a little pair of green pajamas and all he wanted was to get back to sleep. Finally, after fifteen minutes, she got Jeremy to open the door, but when Kathy went in and shook Nicole and turned her over, she didn't respond.
Nicole had fallen asleep on top of a picture of Gary in a little gold frame, just a color photo in a blue jacket in prison, but he was looking good. Next to the picture was a letter, and Kathy saw at a glance that it was an old one, written early in August. She noticed the date because Nicole had often talked about how much his first long letter meant to her. Then Kathy tried to wake Nicole up again. All the while, Jeremy was looking at both of them.
Finally, Kathy called on Sherry, another neighbor, and both women went over to shake Nicole, and stood around on the balcony in their Levi's and bare feet, looking worried. About the time they decided to ring the doctor, there came along that reporter, Jeff Newman, heading right toward Nicole's door, and Kathy hollered out, "She's asleep. Nicole's asleep."
Jeff Newman stared at them kind of funny, and said, "Is she all right? I'm supposed to take her out to the prison this morning."
Kathy said, "Yes, she's just tired." He said, "I'll be back in half an hour," and went away. Then they called Sherry's doctor. The moment he heard Nicole's name, he told them to call the hospital,
The cops were running around the apartment trying to find pill bottles, and the ambulance men worked fast, checked her out and had Nicole on a stretcher, and Kathy went looking for Jeremy, who was now over at her apartment with her kids. They were all eating jello out of the fridge. Just then, Jeff Newman came back. Kathy said, "I don't know whether Nicole appreciates you being here."
"Well, I'm not leaving," he told her.
Kathy decided with people like Jeff poking around, she'd better get Nicole's letters. So she took a brown paper sack, stuffed them in, and carried it all back to her apartment. Then Les came by and Kathy went out to get milk for the kids, and, while she was gone, a couple of police showed, and told Les they wanted the letters. Maybe they had been watching the apartment. Told Les that Kathy could get in real trouble. Les said, "Okay, take 'em back." Later in the day, Kathy tried to visit Nicole at the hospital, but the authorities weren't letting anybody in, only family. In fact, Kathy never got to see Nicole again.
Conversations with Gary over the weekend had been full of literary and philosophical questions on the nature of prison, and this Tuesday morning, Dennis was looking forward to talking about the murders.
Naturally, he had a lot of curiosity. It hit hard when the reporter phoned to ask what Mr. Boaz thought of Gary and Nicole's double suicide attempt. Dennis had completely forgotten "Don't Fear the Reaper." He said to himself, "I'm not in touch with anything." To the reporter, he said, "Are they alive?"
"Hanging in," said the reporter.
Only yesterday, a friend had suggested to Dennis that he get an agreement in writing from Gary. He hadn't wanted to. In unusual circumstances like these, a contract would suffocate any possibility for decent human relations. He had had, however, to admit that Gary was getting businesslike. Yesterday, he had shown a little interest in Susskind, and was talking about Schiller, who had sent him a telegram. Dennis had heard a new interest coming into Gary's voice.
That was why the suicide attempt surprised him so.
Then the day got worse. Another reporter called to say, Mr. Boaz, you have been put on Sam Smith's list of people who could have slipped the drugs to Gilmore. Dennis felt sick. What if, unknown to him, the prison had been recording his conversations with Gary?
They might have taped the one where he talked with Gary about bringing in fifty Seconals but not the next visit where he told Gary he certainly wouldn't and couldn't. At that moment, Dennis knew something about the cold, clammy hand of fear when it takes possession of your guts. No cliché. His guts were being handled by an outside force.
Out at the hospital, a man from Newsweek gave the same news. Boaz was the Warden's number-one suspect. Then Geraldo Rivera of ABC said as much. Dennis thought, I don't need this a bit.
It became a day of catharsis for him and much emotion. At the thought of Gary dead, or Nicole gone, Dennis felt such a sense of loss that he began to wonder if he could keep asking in good conscience that Gary be executed.
At just that point, Geraldo Rivera suggested an interview, and they went up to his hotel suite to discuss it. To protect Gary, Dennis had stayed away from pot this last week, and had none on his person, but he figured Rivera might know somebody to turn him on, and, in fact, there was a reporter in the hotel with some high-quality Thai.
Dennis took it into his lungs like love. But then there was always the reasonable premise that a portion of God's love had been put into grass. Of course, Dennis had also run into a fellow who had the interesting counterhypothesis that what came into your lungs as love was a facsimile offered by the devil. An interesting argument, but all Dennis knew right now was that fine grass affected him emotionally.
Went right to his heart.
As he sat in the hotel room, talking with Geraldo Rivera, he started to have this overwhelming feeling of the great hopelessness of the situation, and began to cry. Dennis couldn't help himself. He just began to sob aloud in front of Geraldo. It was all so much sadder than he had conceived.
Afterward, Tamera would be the first to say that it sure sounded like she was stupid, but at the time, she had no idea her piece was going to be put on the front page.
A couple of months back, when she first started at the Deseret News, she actually got a front-page by-line for a story on the break in the Teton Dam. That was terrific for a cub reporter. She thought the Teton Dam piece was going to be her one and ever, and she wasn't even thinking of something as big as that again. So Monday afternoon, after she left Nicole, she returned to the paper, read through the letters, and worked on her story all night without thinking once where they'd put it. Yet by the time she finished, 7 A.M., she should have known. There were other people working with her now including a couple of editors. She just assumed the story might be sensitive to the readership,
and so they wanted to take a look. Still, everybody was gathered at her desk, helping with last-minute corrections, and it even became one of those pull-it-out-of-the-typewriter, get-it-to-the-printer jobs. They went to press at eight in the morning and Tamera hung in helping write cut lines, and about eight-thirty or nine, she was ready to go to bed but felt like seeing her story in print first. So, she went for a walk while waiting for the first edition.
Tamera ended up over at the Visitors Center at Temple Square and went up the ramp. It was a large spiral walkway that curved up through the air so you felt as if you were ascending into the universe or the galaxies. A dark blue ceiling was overhead and at the summit was a huge statue of Jesus. A beautiful place. Tamera had gone there other times to be alone and ponder. Very gentle peacefulness was out there. You could feel powerful bodies hovering around you, almost, and she prayed that her story would count and things would somehow work out for Nicole.
Then Tamera came back to the paper, and never had she seen a newsroom so electric. She knew something immense had landed right on top of their deadline. A story was being put together so fast, they were putting it right into the terminal that went to typesetting.
Really wild. Her editor came up, and said, "Nicole and Gilmore tried to commit suicide. They are in Intensive Care. Start writing a little story." Tamera said, "Wow." Sat down at her typewriter, not even knowing what she was supposed to do.
Death and suicide, Tamera began, were the main topic in convicted killer Gary Mark Gilmore's conversations with his girlfriend Nicole Barrett in the week preceding suicide attempts by both.
Nicole confided these conversations to me. In a series of intimate talks we had in the tension-filled week, she shared her many letters from Gilmore, spoke of how he had encouraged and reassured her about suicide, and discussed candidly her own feelings about dying.
Now my friend lies near death in a Provo hospital while all the world watches . . .
She kept writing for page after page of all that had happened to her and Nicole.
I had a source no one had been able to reach up to that point. My emotions were mixed. I cared about her as a person and like anyone in my profession, hoped for a story from her. But I didn't want to pressure her or nudge her into a corner where she didn't want to be.
The Executioner's Song Page 57
