Sunday, July 15, 2012

"Mad Man Walking": More On The Keller Case.

This morning, I felt compelled to add a link follow-up story to the Keller case. It comes from a local paper after the videos were released.... and has more details on the case you ight find as interesting as I did. It also announces a scholarship fund has been set up in his daughter's Kaylee's name.

The  Peter Keller case is such a sad, hopeless case.  And his ability to pull the whole plan off over the course of years... is hard to fathom. I think he, like Ted Kaczynski, the Unabomber, were brilliant madmen.
Sometimes we can see that madness coming... and still can't stop it.
Other times, as in Keller's case, there is nothing we can do to stop it. Because the person who is, or has madness brewing is on a slow, low simmer... not a noisy,  high heat rolling, boiling pot of emotions.
Some who go mad, simmer on a barely noticeable heat... over days...weeks...months years.
They make plans in their head and replay them over and over,
They release their physical energy by  building their bunkers, bombs and preparing their end of the world scenario.
And  when it comes... they are a destructive tsunami.
No way of stopping them.
Such was Keller.
And this would be the link

Saturday, July 14, 2012

Re Peter Keller Video's - Inside a Killer's Head

Just a few months ago, in April of this year,  2012,  just east of Seattle...
in a home outside of Northbend, Washington....
at the base of a mountain very near where some of our family members live...
41 year old Peter Keller, a local, unassuming family man...
shot and killed his wife, Lynetttee Keller and his 18-year old daughter Kaylene Keller.

After murdering his wife and child, Peter Keller followed his own, systemic, pre-meditated plan...
and set his house own fire...
while the bodies of his wife and daughter, lay inside with gunshot wounds to their heads.
Keller then fled into the mountains while police investigated, then suspected and pursued him.
That's where phase two of Peter Keller's operation began. In a bunker he built. No one knew it then.

Here's a link from a local news site before police found Keller and while he was hiding.

Keller hid out in an underground bunker he'd been building for years.
It was one the one of the most elaborate bunkers many in local law enforcement had seen.
It was hard to spot.... and everyone was surprised,  that despite the time, effort and multiple trips it took over years to build it... that no one noticed his comings and goings.
Beyond that, it was thick and deep in the forest, hard enough to access. Harder even to spot.

Regardless, one eagle eye tracker did notice the trail Keller used while police were looking for him.
They found the bunker and found him dead,  gunshot wound to the head.
Here's a link to that day.

So in the end, three people, dead...
two of those... very good people... murdered and torched by the one person they loved and trusted the most.
Everyone wondered "why"?
Why, why, why why, why?
It's the one question, the one word I hear most often in the P.I. business.
Why did he do it?
Why did he kill his wife and daughter?
Why didn't we see it coming?
Why did he do what he did?
I always hear the "why" question.
It's what people want to know most.
They want to get inside the killer's head because only the killer knows.

And that's what today's blog is all about.
Getting inside a killer's head and seeing if there is an answer to the "why" question there.
Let's see if you see it, because I sure don't.
Peter Keller kept video diaries the King County Sheriff just released.
Following are two of those video diaries... filmed by Keller himself and just released.
 To me, Keller looks like an average, everyday,middle aged guy.
He was clearly bored with life... and thought shooting his wife, daughter...
burning the house...
emptying the bank accounts...
then robbing banks, pharmacies....
and living in a bunker would be better than his current, as he called it "boring" existence.
If the police show up, he pretty much says, no problem.
I'll shoot myself.
That's what he did.

In my humble opinion, Peter Keller provides no specific answer to  "why" question in his self-made You-Tubes which follow.
I believe he was either a psychopath, sociopath, a ticking time bomb, a wolf in sheep's clothing.
Some people are born bad, he was one of them.
It was not an act of impulse, alcohol, rage, a blast of insanity.
It was pure, pre-planned, pre-meditated murder.
With one child left behind.
The one who wasn't there, the one he didn't murder.
Money found in the bunker will go to her college fund.

Peter Keller Video Diary Two

Peter Keller Video Diary One

Saturday, July 7, 2012

Friday, July 6, 2012

Re: Court TV Shows

I  confess. I love these shows. I have no clue why I am obsessed... because you'd think I get enough of this stuff in the field.  However, there's something about the point when someone ticks the judge off, that's the part I like. Along with the absurd defenses... and attitudes.
I think Judge Milian  speaks with such great passion to someone who definitely needs an attitude adjustment. Especially since this cocky kid plans to enter the legal field -- a profession good attorneys, judges, investigators, bailiffs, court reporters, bail agents and bondsmen take so seriously.
I hope you enjoy the following You Tube as much as I do.
Here's one for the tribal elders!

The People's Court - Judge Milian Flips out on Defendant

Wednesday, July 4, 2012

Have Safe 4th. Dont Blow It!

This is a real x-ray and proof positive....
Alcohol and explosives do not mix.

Monday, July 2, 2012


RE: Rolling in The Deep

In asking around, I have concluded people either love Adele's "Rolling in the Deep" or despise it... deeply.
Personally I love it. Then again, I have a fiery soul born of the sea. 
I was born in New Bedford,  Massachusetts, a whaling town once -- it was the setting for the famous book "Moby Dick."
Our little house had a "widow's walk" on the second floor.
It was a tiny little porch facing the sea to hold one person... one woman waiting... looking to the sea longing for her man's ship to come home, to safe harbor.  Back then, I though the "widow's walk" could have been better named, then again they weren't all that optimistic about the sailor's life.

My father .... before he took to  the road for his civilian work... was a sailor. Navy.
Later in his life, he bought a boat... I worked on it and at the place it was docked.
Later in my life, I did work that took me aboard a fleet of cruise ships all over the world.
It was that same work, that once led me to England, Ireland and Scotland for a TV show that revolved European water sports.

I love the water.
I am not afraid of it,  However I have been humbled and challenged by it, more times that I could truly count.
I have literally been caught in riptides and under currents and escaped on my own.
I was stung by a man of war, made it through that.
And while it wasn't Jaws or anything, I felt mighty satisfied when I punched a little shark in its nose when it tried to take a bite out of my leg and it swam away.
Everything seemed to work out okay in the end with me,  rolling in the deep.  
Except this one time I am going to tell you about right now.

I was scuba diving in a ocean for the first time,  the Atlantic, which a little different from the Puget Sound where I learned. The Puget Sound doesn't have the  huge undercurrents the Atlantic or any ocean has, so I had no lessons, no training, no clue what was going on when I saw everyone around me underwater grabbing onto rocks and boulders and reef for dear life as I was whipped out to sea screaming something akin "WTF" in my my mouthpiece while my oxygen deeply rapidly depleted due to the rapid breathing, high-anxiety, holy-crap response.

Aboard the scuba boat, where the other divers were surfacing and boarding while I was still being pulled away...
was my dear sister Alice.
And I am convinced were it not for Alice  I'd be a either be shark's supper or a movie of the week.
Because I do not believe there was a dive count done that day.

No one noticed I hadn't returned to the vessel except Alice.
Normally, Alice would be underwater with me, a real dive buddy, not the lame excuse for one  the dive master assigned me to.
But Alice was pregnant then, couldn't scuba dive.... yet insisted on coming along on the tourist boat to  keep an eye out for me any way because she cared....
and because she knew ocean diving was new to me.
So fortunately, not only did Alice's eagle eye notice I was missing, she even cared about it.
When I surfaced as  quickly and as safely as I could, pulled off my mask and looked around...
and  then saw I was  in the middle of the ocean, alone....
and as you do that 360 circle to see if there's anything there and there's nothing....
there was that inevitable moment of "holy crappola" I can not describe right now.
However it quickly passed as I saw that little boat chugging towards me and eventually,  I saw Alice's  bright red t-shirt shirt and pregnant tummy at the bow. She was waving at me and smiling. We laughed about it after Alice stopped berating my alleged dive buddy.

Writing about it now... it seems less funny and much deeper to me.
Because were it not for the force of love... the love that made Alice insist on riding that dive boat with me that day...
I'd probably still be rolling in the deep.
Maybe in the belly of some ancestor of Moby Dick.

I love this rendition of Adele's song. If you haven't heard it, and even if you hate the original,  I hope you see in this version what I do.
The beauty and majesty of these kids. The power of the lyrics. And most of all,
The hero.
The teacher.
He is the one who has driven and inspired these children. He keeps them afloat.
He is their "Alice. "

Sunday, July 1, 2012

RE: Burning Bridges

I have wanted to post the quote below on my Facebook wall for some time.
However I and others I have shared it with, think it's one of those "loaded" quotes that can go both ways...
and Facebook is totally different than a blog.
It's easy to tick people off on Facebook and once you do that, things get a little crazy.
On a blog, when you tick people off, "oh well."
People who disagree  here can write a comment. Even when I disagree with the person writing, I post the comment as long as it does not contain a four letter word, name-calling, or a death threat. (I forward the latter onto the authorities)

To burn a bridge, one might think, is a horrible thing.
I know for most of my life,  when I thought of a burning bridge, I didn't see that as a positive, which is why the quote below first caught my attention.
I think of the history behind the bridge: the hands, years, blood, sweat and tears it took to build it.
Every time I cross a bridge, be it an old country one...
a modern floating one...
or a massive metal mega-structure, like the Tacoma Narrows...
I am humbled. Truly. Bridges are an inspiring thing for me.
I  am profoundly moved by the collaborative human effort it took to envision, design, fund, build and maintain that bridge.
I have even seen bridges blasted, then carved, through huge mountains of slid rock. They are the stuff that unites or divides us.

The quote below, however, made me think twice about everything I thought about bridges and the burning of them. Maybe it's not always horrible, I have decided, to burn a bridge. Especially when an army is coming after you from the other end with Uzi's in the middle of dark and dangerous jungle.  Burning the bridge could keep the enemy at bay and light the way to freedom.

What I wonder is if I could ever do it.
If I could be the one to actually burn the bridge down completely...
to permanently close the portal from one good, decent human being to another.
In the past, I would think myself an arsonist for doing that.

I have witnessed people ahead of me take a match... a lighter... a torch... to bridges that others, myself included, attempt to rebuild more times than I care to count. And with the writing of this post and the addition of the quote below today, I realize now... I get it!
It took me a real long time to figure this one out...
longer than some people reading this have been on the planet.

Sometimes, bridges are burned just because people get so heated up their negative energy is combustible, a firestorm.
Other times, the bridges are be burned to light the way to a more positive path.

Whatever the reason, I prefer the bridge be left alone. It is, in my opinion,  one of the last bastions of humanity.