July 2002
Features
In 1996 the body of a cheerleader from a small town in Oklahoma was found on the Texas side of the Red River. She had been raped and shot. The brutal crime destroyed several families and the illusions of an isolated slice of the world.
Darlie Routier has been on death row for five years now, always insisting that she didn't kill her sons Devon and Damon. And as her lawyers prepare to head into court yet again, new information about her case raises the possibility that she may have been telling the truth all along.
Indians slain by settlers and vice versa. Lynchings and shoot-outs. Poisonings and dismemberings. Assassinations and massacres. Our past three hundred years or so have been, uh, colorful. A fond look back at the murder and mayhem.
He was a ladies' man who owned a tavern. He kept gators in a pool behind the place, into which he liked to toss small animals. He hired women to wait tables, and some of them disappeared. What happened? With Joe Ball, it was easy to believe the worst.
Columns
Spending 169 days in jail taught me how to use toothpaste as an acne cream, a toilet as a telephone, and a Maxi pad as a mop. Learning to keep my dignity wasn't as easy.
What's the most unsettling thing about interviewing murderers? In many ways, they're just like you and me.
In 1991 I was eating lunch with a friend when a maniac opened fire at the Luby's in Killeen. We were both hit. I lived. She didn't.
During the 21 years I served as the district attorney for Harris County, people always attacked me for never hesitating to seek the death penalty. Here's my defense.
In the mid-seventies my girlfriend was strangled by a serial killer. I eventually got on with my life, but I nver could have imagined the toll it would take.
