One year ago today I started blogging about my brother’s murder. Here’s why I did it: http://catherinebroad.blog/2013/01/
Originally I had no intention of publishing any comments to my blog, as explained in my first post. I had already spent a few years posting somewhat anonymously on various websites devoted to these serial murders, giving up all kinds of information and documents—information people later “took credit for,” credited to their own investigation, their own websites, used for their own benefit and not to advance any kind of credible investigation into anything relating to these cases, used to write articles and books. Then and now, I had no concern about how the information was used as long as it advanced the case—or at least kept the public aware about it. But there’s never a straight story. None of the facts get put out there for all to read.
I, along with others who posted on these sites, took a fair beating from those who, feeling they were smarter than all the rest of us, were right about who the killer(s) was/were. I don’t know who killed these kids. I just know there was a ton of information the cops kept to themselves; information that could have helped solve the case back in the day. Information from people who were patted on the back and sent packing—or treated far worse. This isn’t a contest, people. Your “suspect” didn’t get adequate investigation by the police—guess what?–join the fucking club. But don’t hack on others who had different ideas or information, and sure as fuck do not hack on victims’ family members. Those of you who have done so deserve whatever bad Karma you are dealt.
But soon after I started blogging, I could tell there were lots of people out there who “got it;” who weren’t egomaniacs, psychotics, who had something to add to the discussion. So I started adding comments to my posts. Unless someone asks me to communicate privately and not publish the comment, I post it. There are some exceptions. Trust me, you are better off not reading these exceptions. I posted some of the more marginal comments at first and then got feedback asking for translations. Sorry, I can’t translate. I have no idea what some of this shit means. So, I use my discretion to keep some of the commentary to myself. It doesn’t necessarily mean it isn’t useful; it just means it is kind of like speaking in tongues and I don’t feel like putting it out there. I pass a lot of it on to a detective I trust, even if it is in hieroglyphics. He can piece this stuff together. I have a more limited freak vocabulary.
I am very grateful for the vast majority of the feedback I have gotten on the blog. Very. I have had over 102,465 hits in 12 months. Not that it means much to me—that was never the point. In spite of the fact that law enforcement has tried to keep these four dead kids locked in their cold case files for almost four decades (and anyone who reads this blog knows there were more than four victims), people all over the world remember Mark Stebbins, Jill Robinson, Kristine Mihelich and Tim King. The attached photo of the all-time views of my blog gives you the picture. And for the three or four people who will message me tonight and tell me this is all bullshit and the stats are manipulated—go fuck yourselves; I am so sick of you. The big picture speaks for itself. People still think about these kids, these cases. I don’t care where these readers live—they still care.
And why do people care about cold cases, even when there is no one left to “punish” or all the fucks associated with the crime and the failed investigation are dead? God, the answer is so obvious, but if you need a little help, Google “Cold case resources for families; resolutions for families; National Institute of Justice”. And, in case you missed it in the past few weeks, the UNITED NATIONS has asked those fuckers at the Vatican why the hell they have been playing the big child abuse shell game for the past many decades. Too late to inquire? I think not. http://www.npr.org/blogs/thetwo-way/2014/01/16/263060258/vatican-comes-under-u-n-scrutiny-over-priest-abuse-scandal
So, in case you are still asking why why am I blogging about my brother’s almost 40-year-old kidnapping, torture, rape and murder case, check out this article from the Oakland Press. It does a good job explaining why, and refreshingly, isn’t one of those articles that evaporates into thin air after a few weeks so that you have to pay $1.99 to read it. http://www.theoaklandpress.com/general-news/20130413/woman-blogs-about-losing-a-brother-to-the-oakland-county-child-killer.
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And I did not include page 3, which lists: Lebanon, Ukraine, Puerto Rico, Romania, Pakistan, Panama, Barbados, Sri Lanka, Cyprus, Algeria, Estonia, Estonia, Trinidad and Tobago, and Singapore.
Amazing. Tells me this operation was and still is worldwide. This blog is necessary.
Jessie
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Cathy – What I meant to say was. . .
You are not tilting at windmills here. The monster is real.
The Catholic priesthood has been standing with open arms to pedophiles for generations. It’s the perfect setup and it’s unconscionable. Anyone can see how it’s just made in the shade for any Catholic gay man who wants to be a pedophile too. I heartily recommend France’s book “Our Father”, which is available on Amazon for a penny plus shipping. I’ve read a few of these clergy sex abuse accounts and found none batter than that one. The sheer number of people involved is terrifying.
The years have gone by so fast without any agreement on who was the OCCK. Amazing how this case has changed from the wait and see approach and hoping the police would solve this to the now aggressive approach and pressing harder for this case to be solved.
About the serial killings. Is it true serial killers don’t seem to stop doing it unless there’s a reason why such as they’re incarcerated or died?
Say Oakland County gets a new prosecutor who takes a more helpful interest in this case. Is it possible they could close this case by convicting Busch without any DNA evidence? And if there’s not DNA evidence on Busch and they do someday convict him, would you be satisfied?
And not to bring up painful memories, but I often wonder and figure this would be the place to get it out. How often do you think of the day that Tim disappeared? Everyday?
And do you have guilty feelings, not that you should, about loaning Tim the money to go to the store to buy candy the day it happened?
I think about Tim every day. I don’t think about the day he disappeared, the week he was missing, or the aftermath as much as you might think–at least I hadn’t in many years until the investigation was reopened in 2005. It’s been decades. I had long, long accepted that this case would never be solved. I focused on the 11 years I got with my little brother, not the week he was missing and how he died. It took almost two decades of therapy, with an amazing therapist, to talk this thing out. One of my brothers and I joked that when we went in for our 50-minutes, the therapists did not need a cup of coffee to stay awake.
The best way to triumph over this kind of evil is to live life like you mean it. I usually experience some kind of an anniversary-type reaction in March, especially if there is a lot of snow on the ground, especially that dirty street snow that is so prevalent in the Midwest in big winters. The experience was so traumatizing that it didn’t even make any sense. As the years went on, I thought less about how Tim died and more about my memories of Tim. The unwritten rule in our family was that you could not talk about what happened, but we had many joyful memories of Tim and we talked about him often. It wasn’t until I was older that I felt guilty about giving Tim the money and letting him go. There’s more to it, of course, but at the time I was worried about him crossing Adams Road (even though he did it all the time). Even after the murders of three kids in adjoining suburbs, the thought never crossed my mind that Tim would get kidnapped. It was 1977. Compared to Detroit, Birmingham seemed like the safest place on earth. I was 17. It’s like the chief of the B’ham police said at the time, if a kid can’t walk to a drugstore to buy candy without getting kidnapped and murdered, what has the world come to? As I got older and people asked questions and made any number of insensitive comments, I figured out really fast that I was apparently supposed to feel guilty about it. When I reflect on it, I feel incredibly horrible about it, uncleholmes, but I don’t feel guilty. It would seem that a number of people, who have knowledge about these murders and kept silent, found effective ways of dealing with the guilt issue.
Is it true serial killers don’t stop unless there’s a reason? Look at BTK. Dennis Rader stopped for over a decade and lived a “normal” life before starting up again.
Thank you for your incredibly honest response, Cathy. Live life like you mean it – powerful words and a positive step in a very negative situation.