Once word of what Evans had done made its way to Randolph Treece, he realized he was probably in possession of a suicide letter Evans had written. Sitting in his office, watching the story unfold on television, Treece’s mind shifted away from the television as he recollected what Michael Desautels had said to him earlier as they made their way up the stairs: “[Gary] said there’s a letter in there for you.”
Treece immediately called Desautels. “Mike, you said Gary’s got papers for me?”
“Yeah, and one of them is a letter addressed to you.”
“Get those things over to me…. No, I’ll send my investigator over there right now.”
Rummaging through the stack of papers about an hour later, Treece picked up the letter and opened it.
I’d like it known why I can’t allow myself to be imprisoned, the two-page letter began. Because of all the things taken from me….
If there was any doubt Evans had designed his escape for any other purpose besides suicide—which was certainly the feeling by some early on—Evans’s own words made it clear that his sole intention was to kill himself.
He went on to write that he couldn’t live in a world knowing he would never get to experience certain “things” again. Most important, he wrote, was all the magic moments with the girl I love [Doris Sheehan]….
Then he talked about living “in a cage forever.”
In the middle of the clearly printed letter, he wrote about the things in life that had made him the happiest: Jet Skiing in Florida, viewing the stars in Alaska, swimming with sharks, touching a sleeping pelican, watching a moose, saving an octopus and feeling the “deepest love imaginable” for a person. The future, he wrote, would be nothing but torment, torture and misery forever. And to allow my life to be taken from me by the enemy is not something I will do. Slow death or fast, makes no difference. They can’t have it.
Beginning on the top of the second page, Evans had circled an entire section and explained to Treece in a side note that he wanted it released to the media.
Paper and TV, he wrote. TV’s better, the papers lie a lot.
My lessons here are learned = on to a better place now. My friends are happy, and I’m already there. With Canis Minor and a beautiful blue moon. With a smile stars surround me and peace and love are mine. They can’t be taken or touched.
Lastly, he wrote, I win.
He made a note on the bottom of the page: Mail it to Jo Rehm…and tell her to give it to my girl I love. Underneath that: And my words to her [Doris] are: Be happy for me, don’t be sad. For you, us, I’m OK now. He drew a smiley face. Then, No drinking. I love you always. Live long, you’ll be an awesome mom. Hey Boogie! See ya next place.
Words he had spoken to Lisa Morris and Jim Horton merely days earlier were scattered, if only by impression, all over the letter: “If I die in here, they win. If I die out there, I win.”