Episode 15: Review of Terry Hobbs memoirs

 

 

In the preface to "Blood on Black," I wrote that one of the untold stories about the West Memphis 3 case worthy of a book treatment was "how the victims’ families were devastated first by the loss of the boys and then by a series of betrayals and accusations that still dog them over 20 years later."
There already had been a book about Mark Byers, father of Chris Byers, by Greg Day, "Untying the Knot: John Mark Byers and the West Memphis 3." The book was a sympathetic, balanced look at a troubled man, obviously deeply grieving the loss of his son, but it was not a book written from the heart.
At long last, after many years of talk about his prospective book, the story of Terry Hobbs has finally been told.
"Boxful of Nightmares," which is Hobbs' story as told to his cousin, Vicky Edwards, is the straightforward, deeply felt testament of a man who, after many harrowing years living in the aftermath of the murder of stepson Stevie Branch, was blindsided by a string of high-profile accusations based on the flimsiest of evidence. Evidence doesn't get much thinner than a single hair that may or may not have been from Hobbs and is perfectly explainable as a secondary transfer of evidence.
The hair evidence was found in the laces that bound Michael Moore when he was murdered by drowning in the ditch that also took the life of Stevie, and where the body of their friend, Christopher Byers, was also dumped in the late afternoon of May 5, 1993, in West Memphis, Ark. The bodies of the three boys, all 8-year-old second-graders, were found the next day after an extensive search.
Eventually three local teens, Damien Echols, Jason Baldwin and Jessie Misskelley, were arrested after Misskelley confessed to the crimes. The three were convicted of the murders in 1994 but eventually released in 2011 after pleading guilty in exchange for release for time served.
The impetus for the plea deal came from a groundswell of public opinion after two documentaries on HBO misled the public into thinking the case had been mishandled by the police and the courts. Various rock stars and Hollywood celebrities took the "Free the West Memphis 3" cause to heart. Until 2007, the public was led to believe that the likeliest suspect was Mark Byers based not on evidence but mostly on his wild demeanor, which was largely an act for the benefit of the cameras paid for by filmmakers Joe Berlinger and Bruce Sinofsky. A book, "Devil's Knot," by an Arkansas writer devoted much of its text to Byers' life while minimizing the deeply troubling records of the convicted killers. The name of Terry Hobbs appears just four times in the index, while a whole column of indexed references cite Mark Byers. Such was the state of the case in 2002, the date of the copyright.
All that changed after defense investigators used deception to gather cigarette butts probably left by Terry Hobbs and found that his DNA could not be ruled out as a source for the crime scene hair, with about 1.5 percent of the public being possible sources.
Suddenly the media bought into the idea that Hobbs was a viable suspect, despite the obvious flimsiness of the "evidence."
Hobbs and David Jacoby were interviewed by the West Memphis Police Department on June 21, 2007, about their recollections of May 5 and 6, 1993. Both men admitted to having difficulty recalling the exact sequence of events from a stressful time some 14 years earlier, and their stories were not consistent on details. Still, Hobbs, and Jacoby, a friend of Hobbs, described a series of events that, combined with other documented facts, effectively gave Hobbs an alibi, if one was needed. In 2009, Jacoby gave another statement describing Hobbs searching extensively for his stepson that evening, often with Jacoby and with a number of contacts with Jacoby during the time the boys were believed to have been murdered.
In an online letter to fans in November 2007, Dixie Chicks lead singer Natalie Maines posted about her then-recent involvement in the West Memphis 3 cause, based on seeing the documentaries and subsequent close contact with Echols' wife, Lorri Davis. Maines claimed that DNA evidence linked to Hobbs and Jacoby was found at the crime scene. She also cited various other tenuous claims against Hobbs.
Maines followed up with similar statements at a Little Rock rally for the killers in 2007.
This drew a defamation lawsuit in 2008 from Hobbs, who alleged the statements were false. He sought compensation for damages to his reputation. The suit allowed her attorneys to depose Hobbs extensively and then query him on a variety of unproven allegations, with the videos then posted in public media. While the depositions provided no proof that Hobbs was in any way a viable suspect, they provided further fuel for Hobbs' attackers. As Hobbs says in the book, "The questioning was brutal and most of it was designed to implicate me in a crime I didn't commit."
The lawsuit was dismissed by the courts in 2009, with the judge ruling that "actual malice" (a criteria for establishing defamation of a public figure) could not be established nor could Hobbs prove that the statements were made with "reckless disregard" for the truth. The court ruled that Hobbs had established himself as a "limited public figure" through his own actions, including announced plans to publish a book and so, absent actual malice or reckless disregard for the truth, he had no case for defamation.
The statement has since been scrubbed from the Dixie Chicks Web site along with most references to Maines' activism in the West Memphis case.
Dubious assertions about a "Hobbs family secret," with the sources being two young criminals with a grudge against a Hobbs family member, aired in "West of Memphis," a fourth documentary, this one co-produced by one of the killers, Damien Echols, with the support of "Lord of the Rings" director Peter Jackson.
In 2013, a court action seeking access for family members to the murder evidence was used as a pretext for filing statements intended to implicate Hobbs as well as three others who had already figured in the case. The sworn statements came from two career criminals serving long sentences for rape in the Arkansas prison system. Though completely unsubstantiated and often contradicted by case evidence, those statements again got media play and brought more attention to Hobbs.
The smear campaign brought death threats and harassment, with strangers showing up at Hobbs' workplace in attempts to compromise his employment.
Essentially, though he has never been a suspect, Hobbs has been treated as such by many followers of the case and members of the poorly informed public.
The book sets the record clear, though those already convinced are unlikely to be changing their minds.
Lisa O'Brien, a co-host of the ""Behind the Curtain" and "Clear And Convincing" podcasts, gives some enlightening background information in the book's foreward.
The book's title, "Boxful of Nightmares," not only doesn't work. It's creepy -- "box" inevitably draws thoughts of a coffin. Still, the subtitle actually tells prospective readers what the book actually is -- Terry's story.
The box in title refers to a box holding the journals Hobbs has kept since May 1993, a chronicle of personal struggle against the devastation wrought not only by Echols, Baldwin and Misskelley but by irresponsible media figures and former acquaintances and family members who will go to any lengths on the basis of a grudge.
Hobbs admits "some of the details are foggy" in his chronicle of the evening of May 5, writing from the standpoint of 18 years later (it's now 25 years later). No doubt his detractors will point out discrepancies with earlier statements and complain about the lack of specific detail on times, etc.
Despite the admitted fogginess, a clear picture emerges.
At one point he explains "I didn't call Pam at work, because I didn't want to alarm her and I still thought the three boys were playing and we would find them, scold them for scaring us, and get home for the evening." Pam Hobbs, the mother of Stevie Branch and now Terry's former wife, has often described her anger and resentment over Terry not informing her about their son's continued disappearance until after her work shift ended at 9. His explanation, while likely still unsatisfactory to her and many others, exemplifies a hopeful and common sense attitude --- in a more innocent time, it was not unusual for boys to wander off and lose track of time, worrying parents. The horror of his stepson's murder was well beyond Terry's comprehension that evening.
The story is told in Hobbs' own words, to the point and heartfelt, with occasional interjections from Vicky Edwards, a sympathetic voice in her own right. It's a relatively short, easy read, told in the downhome vernacular of a regular guy from the Mid-South.
If anything, it's often too honest about the many trials and tribulations Hobbs has faced -- some he acknowledges he brought upon himself, some he was able to overcome, much of which he has simply endured. His on-again, off-again relationship with Pam obviously weighs heavily on him, as he sees what might have been and what it became. As for his daughter Amanda, who was just 4 when her brother was killed, he continues to be her protector, her loving father, while grieving over the traumas and family dramas that have drastically affected her life, including trips to rehab and drug court.
While Hobbs obviously has deep dislikes for certain folks, attempting to even the score with his most personal attackers, it seems, unlike some others, he has been able to move on from the events of May 1993 while never losing sight of what was lost.
Some of what was lost was the assumption of innocence that most of us would simply take for granted. While celebrities with deep pockets and an unsympathetic court system are arrayed against him, he seems most troubled by everyday encounters gone wrong. Describing an encounter with a sympathetic member of the public at a local Subway shop, he says, "It was a humbling experience to meet someone who didn't hate me."
Still, he expresses gratitude for those who have stood by him.
And always, there is the son who is now just a memory.
As he says, "There were many things that his mother and I, his father and his sister never got to see, because somebody took him from us. We didn't get to see him play in little league, have his first girlfriend, teach him to drive or buy him a car. We miss his first dance, his first day of high school, his first football game and his graduation. We missed Stevie."
"Boxful of Nightmares" is an often eloquent testament of fortitude from a victim who refuses to let injustice, disappointment and loss define his life.

 

 

 

 

 

https://www.amazon.com/Boxful-Nightmares-personal-memoirs-Memphis/dp/0578490374/ref=sr_1_fkmrnull_1?crid=221LSZODWO6UZ&keywords=boxful+of+nightmares&qid=1557084616&s=gateway&sprefix=boxful%2Caps%2C161&sr=8-1-fkmrnull