The Fallacy of Closure

"Walking Between The Raindrops" has been out for one year now. It's been more successful than we imagined it would be and our appreciation goes out to those who've supported us, recommended the book to others and the wonderful people who've never turned their backs on us through the good, the bad, and the ugly.

People often say that writing the book must have given us closure. I usually agree and then I thought I'd look up the definition of the word. Miriam Webster defines "closure" as 'a feeling that a bad experience has ended and that you can start to live again in a calm and normal way'. Our reality is not that simple. I wish it were. I don't know how it is for other victims of violent crimes, but, for us, closure is a transient notion. Don't get me wrong, we are much closer to the people we were on February 25, 2008 than who we became the next day. I'd like to think that we're much wiser and living more in the present than ever before; that we don't sweat the small stuff so much.

Days, sometimes weeks, do go by that we don't think about the kidnapping or Mexican drug cartels. We always think about being alert, not getting into set routines and each other's safety; a positive change that will be with us forever. Then, something will trigger the fear and we're inside that fear again.

A car, in my rear view mirror, seems to be following me and I'll give it the opportunity to pass me or I'll purposefully change my route suddenly to "lose" them, all the while feeling my heart begin to race and a knot form in the pit of my stomach. A windowless van pulls up and parks next to us as we're parking and we'll pull out and park somewhere else. Anyone who comes up behind us suddenly will think they've given us a heart attack by the way we jump! The triggers are there.

Recent news of "El Chapo" Guzman escaping Puente Grande Prison reminded us that the cartel boss in our case, Miguel Trevino Morales, "Z-40", was in that same prison when he was arrested. I wondered if Miguel was still there and did a Google search. I discovered he'd been moved to Altiplano Prison in Juarez on the Texas border. He's filed several appeals, had witnesses murdered and complained about his "standard of living". (www.breitbart.com/texas/2015/06/29/cartel-gunmen-silence-star-witness-in-trial-of-los-zetas-boss-in-mexico/) (www.borderlandbeat.com/2015/02/court-orders-manuel-trevino-morales-z40.html) Some might say, "Don't read this stuff!" That's not possible. Not knowing is worse than knowing- at least, for me. We don't dwell on fear but we won't ever stick our heads in the sand again, either.

For us, there is no closure. The door will always be cracked open a tiny bit.

Available in paperback and eBook on Amazon.com

Faces of evil

When a mother has a child - most mothers, I believe - she looks into the face of that child, into their eyes, and all she can see is the work of God in her life, in her arms. She sees hope and promise and perfection. As the child grows, she prays for its safety, health and a good life. She prays that it never wants, is never hurt and that only good things will come in that child's life. It doesn't matter if it's her first child or her tenth (or more). Every new life holds that promise and those prayers in her heart.

Still, we all know that no child grows up free from pain or sickness or temptations. As parents and adults, we didn't make it this far without some heartbreak, various illnesses - some life threatening - or mistakes in judgment. Still, we plan and guide and nurture our children as best we can. We pray to our God for mercy and protection and blessings that our children will grow up to be better people than we are; to have love everlasting and make the world a better place. Thankfully, most children do grow up to be happy, healthy and living good lives their parents are proud of. By the Grace of God, Paul and I have been fortunate with our six children. We pray for them every day, just like other parents do around the world for their children. What we don't pray for is that our childrens' lives turn out like the ones in the pictures below. One newspaper called them the "San Antonio Five". I call them the faces of evil.

"Walking Between The Raindrops" by Mary and Paul Roland on sale now at Amazon.com

The worst day of my life - February 26, 2008

7am - Paul kisses me goodbye and leaves. As he shuts the door that connects our apartment to our garage, I step into the shower. It's just another day, same as the last.

10am - My cell phone rings. I think it's Paul but it's someone from his office. He never made it into the office. He didn't call. Somehow, Paul was lost between our apartment and his office just five minutes away.

Noon - Williamson County Sheriff's Office calls me. Opening a missing person report so that Onstar will locate Paul's truck.

2PM - His truck is found but he's not there. His truck is found 20 miles south of where he should have been.

The truck is empty - no wallet, no briefcases, no Paul. All that's left in the truck is his hearing aids; found in the backseat. Hearing aids that tell us, "I was here but someone took me away. Find me."

"Walking Between The Raindrops" by Mary and Paul Roland - An American couple's true story of kidnap-for-ransom in the United States as directed by the most vicious drug cartel in Mexico. On sale at Amazon.com.

Heroes, one and all...

Lt. Pete Hughey, a sergeant with the Williamson County Sheriff's Office at the time of Paul's kidnapping, was also the commanding officer who assigned Detective Maugham to lead the case and brought in Texas Ranger Matt Lindemann. I didn't meet him until later in Victim Services. I'd heard his name mentioned when Tom and Matt had described their trip to San Antonio to meet the kidnappers and knew he'd been there doing what he could to help Tom get through the ordeal. Like Sheriff Wilson, he worked behind the scenes to do everything he could, pull in every resource available, to rescue Paul and arrest the people responsible.

I've only seen him a couple of times since then but each time he has been gracious and welcoming and supportive. It was with great pleasure that Paul and I were able to see him and present him with a copy of the book recently as a tiny token of our deep gratitude for everything his office has done for us. I love this picture. It captures the joy of the moment and the great affection that we feel for Lt. Hughey and all the people working in the Williamson County Sheriff's Office.

Heroes, one and all.

First Impressions

I first met Detective James Maugham on a balmy day in late February some 8 years ago. It wasn't my best moment for making a first impression. I'd been crying - a lot. Our apartment was a mess. My usual polite demeanor was gone; replaced with terror and impatience. Yet, the man who sat across from me in our tiny dining room remained calm and in charge. At the time, I remember thinking he wasn't listening to me that, in fact, he was dismissing me. Looking back with the luxury of hindsight and having recently had access to thousands of pages of reports, I know now that he was not only calm and in charge, but he was listening and, more importantly, he was helping me to focus on the mystery of Paul's disappearance. I only saw him that one day and our paths didn't cross again until we began attending events at the courthouse that related to the case. In "Walking Between The Raindrops," readers will get to know Detective Maugham; a man that I believe is a true hero.

I've never had the right words to express the depth of my gratitude to him. So many people worked together to bring Paul home, but Detective Maugham was the lead person. He ran the show. For a long time, I didn't understand the depth of his dedication to his work. Now that I've gotten to know him a little better, I am proud for the people of Williamson County to have such a man stand for justice on their behalf. Detective James Maugham isn't merely bigger than life. For many of the people he serves, he IS life.

Los Zetas Cartel - Gone or Rebuilding?

Tying up the end bits of the book and doing a little fact-checking gave me quite a surprise recently. With the arrest of Miguel Trevino and the noticeable decrease in articles about border violence in local news, I was beginning to think that the Los Zetas cartel had splintered into little factions that were south of the border and losing steam. I was wrong. A documentary online recently quoted a government spokesman as saying that Los Zetas were considered the "most technologically advanced, sophisticated, and dangerous cartel operating in Mexico." It went on to say that Los Zetas controlled most of Mexico and was intent on crossing the border to take control of our country as well. An expert that I respect from Stratfor.com, a recognized intelligence resource across all party lines, confirmed their power in Mexico still and that their operation is still based primarily out of Nuevo Laredo (across the U.S. border from Laredo, Texas). Online chatter following the documentary was divided. Some people wrote that other cartels were bigger. Some railed on political themes. A few, the ones that gave me chills, were people writing about the horror of this cartel and what they'd seen firsthand. Others doubted that this cartel or any cartel could do much outside of Mexico.

I have no doubt that our country could defeat any incursion on its soil. I hope that our country can defend against the insidious spread of gang terror. Like black ink dropped into water, it can spread and contaminate every corner. Ask San Antonio, Houston and Dallas if the Los Zetas and other Mexican drug cartels are active within their cities recruiting young people into gangs to do their dirty work. Ask Atlanta, Chicago, Los Angeles and Seattle. Then ask Miami, New York and Detroit. I'm pretty sure they'll tell you "yes".

My point is that I discovered I'd become complacent and secure, lulled in the absence of immediate danger that my world was safe. If "Walking Between The Raindrops" does nothing else, my sincere prayer is that each reader never takes their world for granted but, instead, lives every day alive, awake and with purpose.

Happy 2015! The holidays are behind us and a bright shiny new year awaits. As I move forward with "Walking Between The Raindrops" and get closer to public release, I feel a mix of anticipation, relief and wistfulness. This has been a journey in every sense of the word. Where I was when it began and where I am now are different places completely. The same is true for Paul, too. Older, wiser and, I think more appreciative for every day since February 2008.

It seems only right that our project launch should be soon - close to the 7th anniversary of the event that changed our lives forever. Although I can't give an exact date, I can promise that it is going to happen soon, very soon.

CORA - Four-legged PTSD Therapy

There has been so much written about PTSD (Post Traumatic Stress Disorder) - soldiers coming back from battlefields, people who've survived disasters and people who've survived violent crime. These victims and their families endure the aftermath of whatever trauma has upended their lives in many different ways and for various lengths of time. Some never "get over it". Suicide, divorce and family devastation are too often the final chapters to these stories because there are few proven therapies and few trained therapists. Often, the therapy only focuses on the immediate victim - the soldier or the victim - and the people who make up that person's support system are either overlooked or, at best, given little more than a pat on the back.

"Dateline" aired a special three years ago - "The Desperate Hours" - which dealt with five kidnap-for-ransom cases from Mexico, Central and South America. All five men were rescued, either by ransom or by law enforcement, and all five had been married with families at the time of their kidnapping and rescue. Their stories were horrifying and miraculous. What stood out to me, however, was an end note: 'five years after they were rescued, only one couple remained married.' Could that happen to us? I knew the answer was "yes" because our family was splintering around the edges.

In searching for a therapy that would help Paul and I "move past" the trauma of his kidnapping, I found more and more articles written about "therapy" dogs and how these service animals produced faster and deeper healing than most traditional therapies, not only for the victim but for the victim's family as well. PTSD sufferers and their families were reporting less stress, better sleep and less depression. The more I read, the more shows like "60 Minutes" that covered the growing treatment and resulting success, the more convinced I was that no "person" could provide the therapy that Paul and I needed to move forward in our lives together.

Two years ago, we adopted Cora. She protects us. She knows when Paul is feeling anxious or down and soothes him. She "reads" us. It's amazing. She's taken over our home and our hearts, healing the wounds no traditional therapist ever came close to doing. She is love and trust and confidence in a fur coat. I am so glad that, in large part, because of Cora, more than five years later, "there's a smile on my face, knowing that together everything that's in our way, we're better than all right". (lyric from "Between The Raindrops"-Lifehouse and Natasha Bedingfield)

WALKING BETWEEN THE RAINDROPS - coming soon.

Bad Girls

Women committing crime is as old as time. Lilith, Bathsheba, Helen of Troy - the list goes on and on throughout known history and the not so known. Still, it doesn't sit well with most of us when a woman does something that defies understanding. When a woman snaps against an abuser with violence, we might not condone her behavior, but I think most of us understand what motivated her. A woman who steals to feed her children is still a thief but we sympathize with her. We've all rooted for the woman who's made bad choices for what appear to be good reasons. What, then, do we do with the woman who does bad things for no reason? What do we do about the girl who just wants to be bad?

Meet Sam.  She's young. She's attractive. She's got assistant management experience: assisting in grand theft auto, assisting in the management of prostitutes, assisting in the management of credit card theft and assisting in kidnapping and extortion. What do we do about girls like Sam?

Samantha Casablanca; booking photo - Williamson County, Georgetown, Texas

"Walking Between The Raindrops" - coming soon

https://www.facebook.com/pages/Walking-Between-The-Raindrops

Bad guys

Writing about bad guys in a novel or screenplay is fun. You can design them to fit whatever ulterior motive your story needs. They can be consciously evil or developmentally evil - your choice. You can describe them in terms your reader will immediately associate with "criminal" (think of Javier Bardem in "No Country For Old Men") or, for a "Dexter" character, endow them with smooth good looks and charm.  It's fun and, ultimately, can make or break your story.

Bad guys in true crime are already drawn. As a writer, it's more important to capture their truth as you find it. It's okay to point out their flaws and highlight their strengths, good or bad, but there is no room for redesign. And that's okay. True bad guys - the living, breathing kind - are the blueprints for all the fictional ones anyway. Digging into their stories, hearing their voices and learning the facts of their crimes makes true bad guys much scarier than any movie bad guys to me.

"Walking Between The Raindrops" - Texas Ranger Matt Lindemann and Williamson County Detective James Maugham question a suspect:

MATT: Who does the brother need to be concerned with - watching out for right now?

AB: Them people from over there from Mexico. Them fools don’t play.

MATT: So, you know what they’ll be driving? It’s not like – it’s not Jorge?

AB: Uh-uh. But, they’ll probably come in Tahoes or some shit, which is out of the blue, some low bullshit, shitty cars. Just f***ing go light them up.

What's in a name?

People have asked me about the title. Did I start with the title? Does it mean something special? No and yes. This book has had several working titles but this one is it. "Walking Between The Raindrops", the title, was inspired by a song I heard from the Almeria album of Lifehouse. "Between The Raindrops" is sung by Lifehouse and Natasha Bedingfield. What I heard was what Paul and I have lived and where we are now.

Writing this book has been easy and difficult, tearful and exultant, frightening and liberating and extremely painful yet healing. It started out simple but became complicated until, as if by itself, it simplified again.

Now that the first pass is done, I look at the editing to come with excitement. Writing is rewriting and rewriting and rewriting. I'm already editing in my mind as I write this! And then, when I'm through with my cuts, I will have other eyes find the mistakes, typos and narrative "fat" to be excised until only the best is left.  That's my prayerful hope. 

A view to a kidnapping

I gathered the CDs and DVDs from the stack of reports and papers I received from my Public Records Request on Paul's kidnapping and started viewing them one by one. Crime scene photos, suspect interviews and surveillance footage played before me like some disjointed movie. Then I saw the shot on one of the snippets. It was so split second that I almost missed it.

I'd seen it before as evidence in court when the case of The State of Texas vs. Bartolo Dominguez, Jr. was tried but the picture was far away and I didn't have my hand on the controls. At that moment in court, my mind was trying to wrap around the fact that Detective James Maugham had sifted through 9 camera angles x 48 hours each of footage to bring the eye witness of a camera lens to the courtroom! Just one of the many reasons I'm glad he was on this case! What an amazing job!

Here now is one of those snippets - look closely at the left side. A van parked near the doorway of some motel room doors. A man opens the van door. Another walks around toward the motel door, probably to open it.
Two of the kidnappers...




"Walking Between The Raindrops"...more to come...stay tuned.

Imagine...

...Reprising from the original post - my way of counting down to book release...

Imagine that you're blindfolded, your wrists are bound tight by a plastic zip tie and the people who have you constantly tell you that you'll be tortured and mutilated or burned alive or shot or even eaten by lions if ransom isn't paid. Imagine that each possible end to your life is told slowly, one at a time in graphic detail and with great relish on the part of whoever is talking.  Imagine, also, that you are kept in a room like this and that it's dark and then light and then dark and then light, over and over to make you think that days are going by instead of hours. And, imagine a person holding a gun to your head over and over and over. He pulls the trigger again and again and again. You hear a click but you know a bullet could be in the next chamber. Imagine the nightmares you might have.


"I look around and see four other people, young Mexicans, their tied hands behind their backs, being unloaded from a truck. Once unloaded, they are told to get down on their knees and wait. After what seems several minutes, a couple of men carrying guns walk from the building I’m in and lead the four back. They enter in a big door. The door closes behind them. Suddenly, I hear screams and the popping of gun shots. The door opens again. Four men drag four bloody bundles, each the size of a human being, and toss them into the shrimp boat. I can’t look away as I watch what is going on outside the building. This is going to happen to me and my family will never know what happened to me." - excerpt from "Walking Between The Raindrops"

Imagine...


 

It could have been you...

On a crisp Tuesday morning, February 26, 2008, Paul walked through the garage attached to our apartment to get into his truck and go to work. It was no different than any other morning. The apartment complex, located in a growing area of north Austin, full of working families, professional singles and a few retirees was quiet. Kids roamed through the parking lot on their way to waiting school buses. People got into their cars and headed out to work.

At the same time, two young people, a man and a woman dressed in hoodies and jeans, hung out beside the mail kiosk across from Paul's truck waiting for him to open his back truck door and put his briefcase and laptop inside. While his back was turned the man ran up behind him.

"Are you Paul?"

"Yes," Paul said as he turned.

The man jams a gun into his ribs and forces Paul into his own truck, striking him several times. The woman then joins them, helping the man push Paul further inside and onto the floor so the man can climb into the truck on top of Paul. The woman drives the truck out of the complex. Shortly after that, Paul and his truck are turned over to others; others who demand $500,000 ransom within 15 hours or promise torture and death to him if they aren't paid.

Through the years people have asked lots of questions about this but mostly they ask, "Why Paul?" Maybe because he's such a nice person. Maybe because they hope that whatever the reason, it could never have been them.

Paul didn't know these people and didn't owe anyone a debt. He isn't a high profile politician or celebrity. He wasn't and isn't involved in drug trafficking. He isn't a journalist or high ranking officer of a global corporation.  He wasn't the first target of this gang. He isn't the last target of criminals like them. It could have been anyone...even you.

UPDATE TO THIS POST - I think about this picture and this synopsis of what happened especially when, twice a year, we are notified that two of the convicted kidnappers are being reviewed for early parole and then two more times when we are contacted by the parole board to learn of their decision. So far, neither one of them has earned early release and, with quarterly reminders, neither have we.


In "Walking Between The Raindrops," walk in Paul's steps as he's kidnapped, terrorized and moments from certain death. Follow law enforcement as they chase the suspects - sometimes only seconds away - to save two brothers from the hands of the most vicious drug lord in Mexico and agonize with the family who waits.