Head Shot (38 page)

Authors: Burl Barer

BOOK: Head Shot

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“If the environment provokes or encourages aberrant behaviors, those behaviors become the norm,” said Jordan Grafman of the National Institute of Neurological Diseases and Stroke. We need only look at the inappropriate sexual norms experienced by Dolores Webb and the consequences of those experiences on her own children to validate Grafman's remark.

The massive amounts of alcohol consumed by Andrew Webb and Paul St. Pierre certainly did them no good. Research at the University of North Carolina recently tested the sensitivity of the adolescent brain to binge drinking. The results, published in the November 2000 issue of
Alcoholism: Clinical and Experimental Research,
advanced the hypothesis that this damage is a component of alcoholism.

So overwhelming is the task before usâpreventing acquired psychopathic behaviorâthat it calls for nothing less than a turnaround at the deepest seat of our social consciousness, a new vision in which realization of our essential unity is absolute and unquestioned.

This is not a vague longing for the unattainable. Indeed, this very concept is regarded by an increasing number of thoughtful individuals as not only an approaching possibility but the necessary life-saving outcome of our current social situation.

Our world, contracted and transformed into a single highly complex organism by the marvelous progress achieved in the realm of physical science, by the worldwide expansion of commerce and industry, by the stunning advancements in lightning-speed communication, cries out for an end to fear-born violence.

One individual's efforts can influence the lives of thousands. For more information on preventing the characteristics of psychopathic behavior, or the alleviation of various aggravating factors, consult the following resources. All efforts are valuable. Perhaps someone reading this book will save a life, prevent an injury, cheer the downcast, free the captive, awaken the heedless, or bring new life to someone whose life seemed without hope or purpose. If so, Damon Wells and John Achord did not die in vain; rather, they sacrificed their lives for the future well-being of others.

Burl Barer
January 4, 2001

ACKNOWLEDGMENTS

This horrific story of homicide, lies, blame, betrayal, beatings, incest, molestation, and madness was adapted from three interrelated cases that implicated three perpetrators in two grisly murders. The criminal proceedings stretched over an entire year, generated over 700 pages of clerk's papers, over forty volumes of trial transcripts, and raised a significant issue concerning possible violation of the United States Constitutionâan issue ultimately resolved by the Washington State Supreme Court.

Condensing such elaborate and complex events, issues, and interpersonal relationships into a comprehensible narrative would have been impossible were it not for the exemplary cooperation afforded the author by Detective Robert Yerbury of the Tacoma Police Department and others too numerous to mention individually, who appear within these pages. Suffice it to say, the help of the city of Tacoma, the Tacoma Police Department, Travis Webb, the Tacoma School District, the Pierce County Prosecutor's Office, the Washington State Supreme Court, the various defense attorneys who, at one time or another, represented the defendants, and the friends and relatives of primary characters is much appreciated. The history of the Tacoma Police Department was provided by the city of Tacoma, and based upon original research by Officer Erik Timothy.

Conversations and statements recounted in this book are adaptations of such as recalled from memory. For purposes of clarity, concision, and continuity, statements, conversations, legal arguments, and certain testimonies necessitated condensation and emendation.

The families of Damon Wells and John Achord, for understandable reasons, decided not to participate in this project. The various siblings of Andrew Webb cooperated in varying degrees, the most forthcoming being Gail Webb. Her two former sisters-in-law Anne and Marty made significant contributions of their time, memories, and emotions. The author has made every effort to preserve accuracy of fact and portrayal. Any errors are unintentional. Karen Haas is the long-suffering editor who put up with my literary eccentricities, and did everything in her power to assure you a positive reading experience. Gratitude is also expressed to my kind, compassionate, and talented agent, the unflappable Charlotte Dial Breeze, and my entire extended family for their support and understanding.

UPDATE FOR 2012 EDITION

John Achord and Damon Wells are still mourned by those who knew and loved them, and Achord's relatives often send e-mails to me or post on my website.

In a heartfelt outpouring to me, Achord's niece, Angela, wrote:

Johnny Achord was my uncle. We used to have a lot of fun at family gatherings. I remember once we were all at uncle Dennis's house for a barbecue, and when it got dark, all us kids went outside in the front yard to play. It was okay because the fire department was next door, and the sky was full of stars. I asked what makes a star, and Johnny said, “That's for all you kids afraid of the dark. It is holes that are punched in the sky so it won't be so dark.” I believed him.

I remember the car accident where he was in the coma and woke up a different person. He loved his family again, and started going to church. Grandma Opal said she had her son back. I remember when he was still missing; my mom and grandma Opal hired a psychic to help find him. Mom told me the lady saw something in her vision but she didn't know what it meant: she saw a concrete wall with a red car parked next to it and some bucket next to the wall. This was before we knew about his head, or any bucket, or that he was dead.

Mom told me about how they got to go into the house on 43rd, and the carpet was pulled up and the hardwood floors had bloodstains on it, and all over the bathroom on the walls were tabs with writing on them. They were told there was more than just the two people's blood present. I have a box in my garage with the newspaper articles and his missing poster my mom sent to me during all this because I lived in California for a year while all this was happening.

I also remember my brother Mark was at that same Rush concert, and saw Johnny there after it was over. Mark asked him what he was doing afterward, and if he needed a ride home. He said that he was gonna go hang out with some people and he had a ride. I wish so much he had just taken the ride from Mark.

If John had taken the ride from Mark, Paul St. Pierre would have certainly killed someone else, instead. Out there, somewhere, is someone who, albeit indirectly, owes his or her life to John Achord.

Having served their sentences, Andrew Webb and Christopher St. Pierre attended their thirty-year highschool reunion. St. Pierre is now in a wheelchair; and the Andrew Webb of the twenty-first century is
not
the Andrew Webb who slashed Damon Wells's throat, helped bury John Achord, survived being shot by Paul St. Pierre, conned a prosecutor, and brought souls to Christ in Washington State Penitentiary.

Webb found Jesus in prison and that's exactly where he left Him upon release. His commitment to Jesus lasted only as long as his incarceration. Andrew Webb abandoned Christianity and returned to his long-standing fascination with the gods of Norse legend. The post-prison Andrew Webb authored a well-reviewed and exceptionally scholarly book on North European native religion, and founded a nonprofit religious corporation to do “good works and community service.”

“Andrew earned several college degrees while behind bars,” his nephew, Travis, revealed. “He has degrees in anthropology, philosophy, religion, and business.”

Once a recalcitrant troublemaker with a violent temper, Andrew Webb has conducted “Handling Hostility” seminars for numerous organizations, volunteered at homeless shelters, and counseled at-risk youth. All this is certainly preferable to home invasions and murder.

“Andrew is Andrew,” Marty, his former sister-in-law, said. “He has always been an ace manipulator. Did you know that as soon as he was out of prison, his ex-wife started spending time with him and my ex? Maybe it's so his kids can have some sort of relationship with him, but as I don't want anything to do with Andrew or his brother, I don't see much of her anymore. That poor family is so screwed up. Hell, I was part of it. There were nine kids in the Webb family, and I don't think any of them could possibly have gone through what they went through without being damaged, to one extent or another. Some have owned their lives, and have reached out to others. One of them is just plain nuts, if you ask me. I could go down the list, but there is no sane reason to expect otherwise when you consider Mrs. Webb's upbringing and mental illness, and all the murders and madness that went on. That was so different from the St. Pierre family. Paul was never right in the head, and the booze and drugs made him worse, but Christopher was a real nice kid, who would never have gotten into any of that trouble were it not for his big brother.”

Christopher St. Pierre, the sweet young boy with the promising future, the one who went to the police, the one who wanted nothing to do with the lifestyle of his deranged brother, spent the most time in prison. He is the one most fondly remembered by those who knew him in high school, and the author receives e-mails from those who, to this day, cannot believe that a good kid such as Christopher St. Pierre could have ever been involved with such heinous behavior.

Stacey Anderson, for example, remembers the St. Pierre brothers, and retains a marked affection for the younger Christopher. “I knew Chris St. Pierre, and fairly well,” recalls Anderson. “I attended 6 years at Stewart Jr. High and Lincoln High Schools with him. It was at Stewart that we shared several classes and became buddies. Until reading this book, I had completely forgotten about his heart condition and surgery, and then as I read the memories came flooding back of that cute kid and him telling me about his heart and showing me his scars. And I also remember just loving his thick luxurious head of hair which at the base of his neck he had a small patch of blond, almost like a weird little hair birthmark, and couldn't resist playing with it and teasing himâhe sat directly in front of me in Geography class. We had to be pulled in line quite often for talking in class. When they say this was a good kidâhe was!”

According to Stacey Anderson, even as a 7th grader at the young age of 13, Christopher St. Pierre possessed a magnetic personality. “[Chris had] a dry, ironic wit that could send me into fits of laughter. And he remained to be just a sweetheart of a guy all through school to graduation ... then, I lost contact with him. Then in June 1984, I will never forget my best girlfriend Kathy (who knew Chris from kindergarten on up, lived just up the street from the St. Pierres) calling me at about 11:30 at night with the shocking news on the front page of the Tribune. I remember literally having to stop her as she was reading and relaying the horrible details of what they had done so I could take a breath and try to absorb what she was telling me. I remember saying, âStop it!! NO WAY!! How can this be??âNOT Chris!!' It was so mind boggling and heartbreaking for all of us who grew up with him to find out this was his fate. And the shocking nature of what they were involved in right at our back door was beyond comprehension.”

Anderson lives only a few blocks away from the house on Pacific Avenue where much of the tragic story took place. “There is not a time we pass by Erickson's and that house to this day that my mind does not go to the eerie and frightening visions of what went on there. It's never faded. Same thing when we have to go into Fife and pass over the Puyallup River Bridges that I don't think of what happened to John Achord. As gruesome as it all is, in the end it is just an absolutely tragic tale. And learning the slick moves made between the prosecutor and Andrew Webb is just revolting, making the story even more profound.”

As for memories of Paul St. Pierre, he has taken on almost an iconic image of evil to kids from the old neighborhood. “There are tales told to this day,” said Anderson, “of how screwed up Paul always seemed to be. Tales of things he may have done or not have done ... Tales of how blood thirsty he seemed, and the joy he seemed to take in bragging about his guns and murder. One of our closest friends who was Paul's best friend during their Stewart Jr. High years was drinking with him one night at Ray & Gene's Tavern and then over at the house not long after the shooting at IGA, and he tells how Paul was just going on and on and on about it and couldn't let go of it, and it just freaked our friend out to no end. He says he made an excuse and a hasty exit and never went back. You can see the eeriness on him to this day when he recalls that night.”

Detective Robert Yerbury's distinguished career with the Tacoma Police Department earned him a well-deserved national reputation as a living example of what it means to protect and to serve with honesty, integrity, and dedication. He found it of interest that Christopher St. Pierre was recently summoned to jury duty in Tacoma, and Yerbury still regards the Wells/Achord homicides as among the most disturbing and senseless killings he's encountered.

Prosecutor John Ladenburg, after a brutal sex crime occurred in Pierce County, created the nation's first “Sex Predator Notification Law,” which was later approved by the U.S. Supreme Court. John was a major participant in the rewriting of Washington's sex predator laws. John's office wrote the nation's first sex predator “Civil Commitment” law.

Ladenburg was also one of the founding members of Safe Streets of Pierce County, a nationally recognized neighborhood watch program, where he served ten years on its board of directors. In an effort to treat addiction as a disease, he helped organize the first “Drug Court” in Washington State.

The Webb family fully cooperated in the preparation of
Head Shot,
and shared a lot of sensitive information, much of which was not used in the book because we saw no reason to bring up potentially embarrassing details of people's lives, especially when they were only linked to the story by virtue of birth. When recounting family stories, and the impact of various events, the family members didn't always agree, but there is nothing unusual about that. The degree of disunity and animosity manifested after the book came out is another matter. Some of them felt my portrayals were honest and accurate. Others found the honesty and accuracy humiliating.

I didn't create these lives, nor did I live them. None of us could take too much scrutiny, even though our worst indiscretionsâshort of murderâare worthy of no more than one night's dinner conversation in someone else's home. I write these books with the sincere hope that someone's life will be saved, or improved, or we will somehow learn more about how to keep people from manifesting sociopathic or psychopathic behavior.

Burl Barer
December 2011