Tag Archives: psychopaths

AUTHORS / ARTISTS — JERI FINK

Dr. Jeri Fink was born and raised in the Big Apple, where she started writing at the tender age of eight. Her first characters were the people she saw on buses and subways. After winning her first art contest, Dr. Fink discovered photography. She learned that a photo combined with fiction was the perfect way to fuse designs of both mind and eye.

Dr. Fink has written 25 books, hundreds of articles, ran a family therapy practice, and studied the psychopathic spectrum. The Broken Books is her first thriller series merging photo insights and fiction.

JERI

 

LAST WORDS OF DEATH ROW INMATES WITH A SENSE OF HUMOR

                                       By Dr. Jeri Fink

 There’s no one on Death Row who you would like to meet in a dark alley.

They’re serial killers, murderers, rapists, and perpetrators of the most heinous crimes known to human kind. Yet many of them had a bizarre sense of humor as they faced their executions. These words were collected from various reliable sources, like the Texas Department of Criminal Justice, that keep some very strange records.

 Thomas J. Grasso – executed by lethal injection, March 20, 1995, Oklahoma. Grasso was convicted of two murders. He strangled an 87-year old woman with her own Christmas tree lights in Oklahoma and then fled to Staten Island, New York. A few weeks later, Grasso killed an 81-year old man from the rooming house where they both lived. Grasso’s last words were delivered with a smile:    I did not get my SpaghettiOs, I got spaghetti. I want the press to know this . . .

 George Appel – executed in the electric chair, 1928, New York. Appel was sentenced to death for the murder of a New York City Police Officer. He took it very lightly. His last words have become legendary to people who follow those things:   Well gentlemen, you’re about to see a baked Appel.

 Johnny Garrett – executed by lethal injection, February 11, 1992, Texas. Garrett was 17 years old when he raped, stabbed, and strangled to death a 76-year old Roman Catholic Nun. Garrett claimed he was innocent to the end, defying the world:  I’d like to thank my family for loving me and taking care of me . . . and the rest of the world can kiss my ass.

 George Harris – executed by lethal injection, September 13, 2000, Missouri.  Harris killed Stanley “Hank” Willoughby with a .41 caliber Blackhawk magnum revolver. Willoughby was shot in the face and neck. The motivation? Willoughby refused to return Harris’ stash of guns. Harris’ last words said it all:     Somebody needs to kill my trial attorney.

James French – executed in the electric chair, 1966, Oklahoma. French was in prison for murdering a motorist who picked him up as a friendly hitchhiker. The “story” claims that French was afraid to commit suicide so he found another way to die – he murdered his cellmate. French had five children – Kayla, Taylan, Jayden, Jaycee, and Jaylan. His last words were delivered to the press:     How’s this for a headline for tomorrow’s paper? French fries.

 Robert Charles Comer – executed by lethal injection, May 23, 2007, Arizona. Comer and his girlfriend were camping out. Larry Pritchard was in the neighboring campsite. They invited Pritchard to join them for dinner and drinks. Later that night, Comer shot Pritchard, stabbed him in the neck, and hid his body. Comer was a lifetime criminal – with additional convictions in rape, kidnapping, and sexual assault. The press reported that he met his death with a steady gaze and defiant smile, never flinching. His last words:     Go Raiders.

 Jimmy L. Glass – executed in the electric chair, 1987, Louisiana. It was Christmas Eve, 1982, when Jimmy Glass and Jimmy Wingo escaped from prison. While on the run they entered a home in a rural area and shot the Browns – a couple in their early 50s. Jimmy swaggered to his execution, smiled, and made his final statement:     I’d rather be fishing.

 Vincent Gutierrez – executed by lethal injection, March 28, 2007, Texas. Vincent was only 18 years old when he stole a car belonging to a U.S. Air Force Captain, Jose Cobo. Gutierrez kidnapped him, and when Cobo tried to escape, shot and killed him with a handgun. Gutierrez dumped the body on the side of the highway.  His last words were said laughing, with a big smile: My brother, where’s my stunt double when you need one?

 

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The Broken Books series re-invents the art of storytelling. Dr. Jeri Fink, along with Donna Paltrowitz, has merged fiction and photography to blend fact, stories, and photo insights into six riveting novels. These one-of-a-kind thrillers, linked through genealogy, explore the world of psychopaths and their prey, trapped together in time and blanketed in fact.

Check out our website to discover the latest research about haunted family trees and psychopaths: www.hauntedfamilytrees.com

Plunge into Broken, the thriller series that merges fact, fiction, and photo insights, available in three formats.

Purchase the ebook

Purchase the print book

Purchase the Collector’s Color Editon

www.hauntedfamilytrees.com

AUTHOR & ARTIST – THELMA STRAW

Though Thelma was born in in Massachusetts, she considers Norfolk, VA., the Outer Banks of NC and the mountains of Sewanee TN, her home training grounds. A member of the Mystery Writers of America and the Association of Former Intelligence Officers, she writes novels of espionage, psychopaths and human trafficking. She is a former Executive Management Consultant, poet, dramatist and book reviewer.

THELMA SMALL

A CRY FOR THE BELOVED COUNTRY . . . . .

Few of us have dry eyes when we gaze on the stunningly beautiful site of the World War II Memorial in Washington, D.C. The Pacific Arch and the Rainbow Pool, set between the Washington Monument and the Lincoln Memorial, are breathtaking. . .

This incredibly moving site, a national memorial dedicated to Americans who served in the Armed Forces and labored as civilians during World War II, the 56 pillars and a pair of mall triumphal arches draw our attention and quiet thanks for all who served. . . the U.S. Navy, the U.S. Army, the U.S. Air Force, the U.S. Marine Corps, the U.S. Coast Guard, all fought and died to preserve our lives here now. The names are visible … of the 48 States of 1945, as well as the District of Columbia, the Alaska Territory, the Territory of Hawaii, the Commonwealths of the Philippines, Puerto Rico, Guam, American Samoa, and the U.S. Virgin islands … each a reminder of what might have been lost – had we lost the war. . . . . .

I stand in awe of this hallowed place, not only for what it represents, but for the long, deep personal memories it evokes. . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

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Those days and nights of “The War” were filled with sights and sounds that remain as long as life. . .

– The sight of the German prisoners, each no older than we were. . . imprisoned in the rear of Navy trucks on the streets around the Naval Base in Norfolk. Were those KIDS the Hated Nazis????

– Whining sounds of air raid sirens at dusk, when Civil Air Patrols roamed our quiet streets at Willoughby Beach, ordering black out curtains nightly.

– The constant we-are-at-war reminders, indefinable yet unmistakable, bombarding our inmost privacy everywhere.

– Collecting tinfoil, conserving food, keeping supplies in the kitchen closet … in case the Germans invaded. . . yes, the fears were terribly real to us on the beaches…

– Daily finding the stuff from ships and sunken submarines… washed up on our own beach … supplies of Nazi food and weapons, uniform shreds, body parts, garbage from the subs with German language stamps. . . .

– Forced shortages – especially gas for the old car. . .

– Entertaining the foreign boys at the U.S.O. dance hall. . . especially the cute French sailors…

– Everywhere, the smells and sounds of W-A-R… and the worry that an invasion would tear down our homes and lives. . .

This September 2, 2014, very few men and women who fought in World War II were able to be present at this year’s memorial service. . . the few who came could not walk on their own. . .

Our eyes were filled with tears, not of sadness but of gratitude, as we watched the sunlight on this exquisite citadel of memory, in the sacred capital of our beloved country.

God Bless America, Land That I Love. . . . .

Thelma welcomes inquires and comments at tstraw2@verizon.net and www.crimewriters.blogspot.com