3 The Letter Wars

Father and son settled into a year of epistolary combat, with the heaviest salvos muffled by pro forma protestations of love. The love-hate messages made fascinating reading in the prison censors’ office:

Son, I am feeling numb and like a zomby. I keep thinking back when you were a kid running behind the trailer, hanging onto the endgate going into the Blackwater. Then the tears come and I can’t stop them….I can imagine you dressed in a Mountie uniform, Son, instead of prison garb. What a waste of a good person. I will never get after you for your vicious deeds as those were performed by a Keith Jesperson that I do not know.

Your poems always leave a bad taste in my mouth, Dad….I’m tired of having poor, poor, pitiful me rolling over and over thru the lines. Please when you write poetry to me again leave out the pity. I don’t need it….

Well, Son, I guess if you are in a cell for 22 hours every day for a long time you have a right to think a little different….I am sure that if your mother was alive you would not say that she wants pity. She would be so torn apart that it would bring about her demise.

You want to throw my mother’s death at me, too?…Nobody tells the truth anymore, Dad….I wasn’t born this way! I was created by all of my experiences, before I killed…I have nothing really to live for…. Last week a man with 104 years to do left the only way he could. He hanged himself with his own shoelaces.

Keith, I wrote a poem about my feelings…. It’s called “Oh God Be With Me.” I submitted it in a poem contest sponsored by a large book store and won first prize….I guess you forgot it was my birthday on the 14th of March.

…. If you do not make out our [book] contract as I want, then you can suck eggs till you are blue in the face and still not get anything more out of me. If you threaten me, then it is over before it gets started…. Have a nice day.

Received your letter yesterday, Keith, and was shocked at your sucking eggs bit. There are other ways of being firm without being rude….

Dad, you don’t follow directions very well, do you? I will not write a contract with you, ever!…Don’t give me threats of our trust. I quit trusting you a long time ago in business…. Dad will do what Dad wants to do, no matter what anybody else has to say. I love you.

The last letter you sent was full of bitterness and resentment. It left me with a feeling that it was not my son that was writing that letter….I have never reprimanded you for your terrible crimes….I have forgiven you and have asked the Lord to forgive you also…. You have to admit you have put your family through one hell of a mess. People don’t know where I live so have missed most of the harassment.

Your brothers and sisters have not been so lucky. Brad has had life threatening phone calls and verbal harassment…. Your nieces and nephews have had slanderous remarks thrown at them at school. Sharon’s been bitter over the whole thing, expressing disgust at your desire for publicity. I think it would be nice for you to send us all a letter of apology….

Dad, I do two hours in the morning of classes so if I get out of prison I won’t do this again. The class is called anger management, deals with the way I was raised and the punishment dished out to me as a child. We talk openly about the belt and wooden spoon and the fist and backhand and the verbal abuse…. Under the program we have the prison pointing into your corner on why I am here and why I turned out to be a serial killer. But that is alright, Dad. I still love you, anyway….

In reading your and Sharon’s letter, Son, it seems that I am the worst father that you could of had. I beat you and don’t know when your birthdays are. I have no love or compassion and am interested only in money. I was always drunk and thought only of myself. I don’t keep in contact with the grandchildren, and Betty and I spend too much. I haven’t worked in years and spend all my time down in Yuma.

Just read that paragraph over again and sit back and think. You two have hurt me beyond description…. The modern shrink is good at blaming one’s problems on what happened as a child….I remember using the belt but it never was applied without justification. I got it when I was a kid and also it was applied in school. I remember that real good….

Yes, Keith, I was, and I say was, an alcoholic. It is true that I always had a bottle with me under the seat or in the pack saddle. This is all over with! I quit on my own and never had a drink since. You should be proud of me for that….

In reading your letters and story I see there is a lot more I am to learn about your activities. I am getting immune to the hurt but the feelings of a father who has a son like you cannot be minimized. I was completely unaware of you killing dogs or shoplifting….

You must have a hell of a sex drive to do what you did. That thing in your pants controlled your mind. Just take what this letter says as fatherly advice….

Dad, we must both understand what goes on in our own heads are fact. I do respect you and love you very much and do not want to hurt you at all with this anymore. I am very aware of the discipline that we all got as kids and what I got, I very well probably deserved it….

The reason I sent Sharon your letters and you Sharon’s letters is to show you both what I am hearing…. There is something that causes us to be bitter towards you and vice versa…. Let’s bury the hatchet and pick up and go on.

I was so pleased to receive your last letter, especially the last line….I was watching the Montel Show yesterday and he states that his dad used the belt on him. He also stated that he deserved the licking. He said that if the same lickings were given today it would be called child abuse…. You can not lay a guilt trip on me for your childhood. I am proud of our family, even you, Keith. You showed some courage in setting those two people free from jail. It shows there’s some good in you….

Please do not blame me for your problems as I am not a killer and have had a lot more lickings than you have had. I love dogs and while I do not want a cat around, I would not kill them for the fun of it….I look forward to your letters each and every day.

It is your son that writes the letters, Dad…. I just wrote some of the beatings I had gotten at the times. Also wrote of the good times on our life. Yes, you used your fists on several accounts. Of course you don’t remember them because you were drunk at the time!…

Your apology is accepted and I am sorry for what pain I may have caused you in referring to spanking as beatings and to insinuate the outcome of a harsh and obsessive upbringing. I had wanted you to see it as I saw it through my eyes and that was a mistake to assume that you could see it that way, not looking at it through the eyes of a young boy growing up. I apologize for the problems I have caused. I love you….

Keith, Betty and I have sent you $250.00 via money order so you can buy a TV. We can not imagine spending all the time you have to in your cell without this entertainment….

Dad, there were problems at times with the justification of an ass whipping when I had gotten it at school as well….I never remembered Bruce getting it and only a couple of times that Brad did. When I was a child, I felt that I was the one you picked to get mad at and to use your belt on….

I was living in fear….I was scared and frightened of getting into trouble…. Then I decided to change the outcome of your rages and brought you close to me….getting into the pleasing mode. To do everything to please you, to give you gifts that you wanted. I was different from my brothers and sisters. Birthdays came and they gave you pennies and I gave you the wind machine you hinted for. Paid for it myself. Then when it was completed and the glow in your eyes was seen by all, they jumped in and took the credit and paid me nothing for their share of it. What about that square clock by your bed and with the large numbers and radio? The same happened there.

…. And when you asked for payment of room and board, who was the only person to pay it? Me! All I had given was kept and they had not paid a cent. I did not want to make waves. I needed you to be mellow toward me for the fear of the belt….

Then I looked at what positives that you were in my life and realized that it was me that controlled my destiny and you had only been there to help guide me along. You held the reins and gave me a kick in the right direction and hopefully I would follow your lead. All you did for us kids was to try to make us grow up with respect for ourselves and for you as well. I began to really see you as you were. Not perfect, but my father that tried to do us right with the best he could do….

By seeing the passing away of mother and the coming of Betty and the spark in your eyes and also the tears, reminded me that you are only human and that I do love you. Each time I drove to see you I couldn’t wait to hold you and stroke your hand and play cribbage and beat you at it. Sometimes I would let you win….

I appreciate your effort at frankness, Keith, found it hard to believe how you could do such things, especially drag the victim under the truck, and being so quick to take a life…. In every case the crime was entered into because of a sexual desire….I had another poem of mine published in the Church bulletin in Yakima. I called it Living In God’s House….

As on the phone, Dad, didn’t you realize that we really do not have much to say to each other? The phone conversation seemed strenuous at best. Yes, it was good to hear your voices…. Come and visit me sometime if you can stand being in prison with me. The visitation room has no glass to hide behind.

Be honest with your Dad and tell me the truth. I don’t think you better yourself by stringing anyone along. Thank you, Keith, in advance, for being honest with me….

You are in self denial, Dad. To you, you are an angel! One without sin. Hear Me Out! You admit to drinking steady and yet you don’t believe you were a drunk or an alcoholic. Then why did you quit?…You remember being drunk three times. How many times don’t you remember anything at all? Please describe drunk to me…. What impression did you give me while you drank all the time?…. You have been a king bullshitter for along time….

What is remorse? Saying sorry for what you have done? Well, I’ve done that. What do you want me to do? Cry every day? Bullshit! It doesn’t sound as if you want to bury the hatchet on this…. This is a reality check. I do love you and care for you. But wake up….

Two months ago you begged for the right to visit me. May 31st the clearance came and still with only one hundred miles between us you have not come to visit. What is wrong? Are you afraid?…Well screw you too, Dad…. Just stay away!…Love, Keith

Keith, I am through with blaming each other for everything…. As each of us believe that we are telling the truth, lets both ask forgiveness to each other and go on with life. I now ask your forgiveness for anything I have done to hurt you or make you angry at me….

Dad, when are you going to visit me? Are you planning it soon?…I have sent letters to Bruce and Brad and asked for forgiveness….

The visit to see you was enjoyed by Betty and I both. It was nice to give you a hug and hand shake. I still have trouble when I look at the picture we had taken at the prison. It is hard to think that your stay in that place is permanent, period….

Dad, I guess I should be thankful to have a father around when I grew up and still now, as everyone else wants to wish I wasn’t born. You are not going to live forever and there will be a day in the not-so-long future that I will be told of your passing. What do you want said over your body as they lower it into the ground or roast it into ashes? I would like to say that I loved you very much and only regret to tell you before you died that you mean so much to me.

Keith, the last letter I got from you was dated Feb 5th, over one month ago. I have written you two times since and have had no replies. I am worried to what has happened. I hope I have not done anything that has caused you to not write. What gives?…

[A detective] questioned me about brutality with my children. Thank God you sent me a letter telling the truth about your childhood where we had fun fishing etc. and did not blame me for your crimes. The lickings were the norm, and your killings were your own idea. I sent him a copy of that letter.

…. The other night I had a realistic and heart rendering dream. I was looking at you standing in front of me along with Brad. You were about ten years old. In my mind I knew what I know now, that you turned out to be a serial killer, even though you were only ten and had not done anything bad yet. You were wearing those short brown pants and the brown and white striped shirt your mother made for you. I reached over to you and hugged you. I cried as I asked you why are you going to kill when you grow up.

It was so real that it woke me up. I had tears from my eyes running down my face. I still ask you why. You just don’t know the pain I have suffered.