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September 10th, 2009
For a quick overview of the basic facts surrounding
this case, please see yesterday's post.
IF THIS IS LOVE…
Eric Stukel began seeing Tammy sometime in early 1991.
They had met at a party and he had invited her to his car
where they listened to some of his music.
She had told me about this and asked me what I thought of
the guy. I didn’t think too much of him one way or another,
because I really didn’t know him.
“He’s kind of weird,” she told me, “but he asked me out.”
I laughed and told her to have a ball, not taking her too
seriously that she would ever really go out with the guy.
She was a senior. He was a sophomore. In high school years,
that qualified as May-December romance.
Needless to say, I was rather stunned when in May of that
year, Eric Stukel and his friends arrived to stop Tammy and
me from going out to get a bite to eat after work.
(She was going to tell me about her plans after graduation
that night, and I was going to pretend I was happy about
seeing her leave town that fall for college.)
Our boss was smart enough to see a potential conflict
brewing and, not liking the looks of Stukel or his friends
and knowing I had something of a temper, wouldn’t allow
Eric or his friends to enter the theater.
Tammy went out and talked to Stukel and returned and told
me that Eric didn’t want her spending time with me. Again, I
was stunned…and needless to say, wounded, but I did have
my pride.
At this point, I wasn’t mature enough to understand that
Stukel had become a dangerous and controlling influence in
Tammy’s life.
Jumping ahead—my friends and I were screening Robin
Hood, Prince of Thieves (the version with Kevin Costner
and his lack of British accent) on the morning of June 14,
1991. Tammy hadn’t planned on showing up that day, so I
was surprised to have her pull me from the back row of the
theater into the lobby about twenty minutes after the show
started. She had just come from Eric Stukel’s house to pick
up something she had left there the day before (I’m not sure
what) and she had stumbled across an open notebook on his
desk. Eric wasn’t home at the time, she told me, so she
decided she’d steal a glance at what he’d written.
“I read it,” she said, “and got out of there as fast as I could.”
This was actually the first time I had ever seen her
frightened -- not jump-out-and-go-boo frightened, but
actually sick with fear.
“What did he write?”
“I can’t tell you,” she said. “It’s too horrible. I don’t know
what to do.”
I laughed, not sure if this was a joke. “Just tell me what he
wrote.”
She had a death grip on both my wrists at this point.
“He said he wanted to…something about a cold slab.”
“What did he write?” I said. “Was it about me?”
She blurted it out: “He said he wanted to f**k my cold body
on a cold slab.”
She saw me go white…and then red.
“Don’t get mad,” she said. “I don’t need that either.”
“What else did it say?” I said.
“I don’t know. There was other stuff. I just wanted to get
out of there.”
“I’m going to go find him now,” I said.
“He’ll be with his friends.”
“He’ll need them.”
“No, don’t—” she said. “Let’s just stay here. It’s nothing. I’m
just a bit freaked out. I’m finally seeing what kind of
person he is.”
“Did you get your stuff?” I said.
“My stuff?” she said.
“You don’t have to go back there, do you?” I asked.
“I’m never going back there again.”
I took her at her word, not understanding the power an
abuser has in an abusive relationship.—even an abuser who
was only sixteen.
(And, yes, though it makes no sense, for some reason those
abused -- be it physically, verbally, or emotionally -- always
seem to get drawn back to their abuser.)
As far as I knew, Tammy didn’t see Stukel the rest of that
summer of 1991. She went to college in August and met a guy
down there she started dating.
“She and Stukel may have dated for a few months, one or
two,” I told law enforcement just after Tammy’s funeral.
“I don’t think she ever took it seriously. When I left for
Basic Training in June (of 1992,) she told me she didn’t
want anything to do with him again. Eric Stukel—why do
you keep asking about him? He was ancient history.”
“Do you remember anything else he might have written
about her?” the investigators asked me, “or any other
incidents involving Eric Stukel?”
“No,” I said. “Like I told you—she didn’t want anything to
do with him.”
At this point, I was pretty much out of the loop. I had no
clue Eric Stukel was being investigated by law enforcement
for Tammy’s murder, and the investigators were pretty
careful about not asking me any leading questions pointed
toward Eric Stukel’s guilt.
Little did I know law enforcement had stumbled upon more
of Eric Stukel’s writings over the course of their
investigation—a pretty amazing circumstance considering
Stukel would have nearly a week to destroy all the evidence
implicating him in Tammy’s murder.
But the evidence is what counts and here was what was
presented in court and reported in the papers.
This all came from a two-paged hand-written composition
entitled “If This Is Love, I’ll Take It On The Face” seized by
law enforcement on Oct. 5, 1992 from Eric Stukel’s bedroom
and later determined to have been written by Stukel: *
Sometimes I hate Tammy, but I really miss her.
I admit I played with her mind.
Someone special sent me here to change her.
We made love forever. She is the greatest to me.
I have no girl, no car, but I have pot.
I treated her like shit.
I would give my life just to hold her.
I am taking her to L.A. with me, even if I have to kill her.
Kill Tammy, yeah I thought about it.
Eric Stukel claims he just wrote this stuff “off the top of his
head” ** and that he didn’t mean those things.
So—let me buckle in again—he writes about killing Tammy
and then she winds up dead…
Would anybody in their right mind chalk this up to mere
coincidence?
m.c. merrill
* SOURCE: Rothanzl, Lorna. “Experts Testify in
Stukel Trial.” Yankton Press and Dakotan. Sept. 28th,
1996.
** SOURCE: Rothanzl, Lorna. “Stukel Takes Stand.”
Yankton Press and Dakotan. Oct. 3rd, 1996.
For a quick overview of the basic facts surrounding
this case, please see yesterday's post.
IF THIS IS LOVE…
Eric Stukel began seeing Tammy sometime in early 1991.
They had met at a party and he had invited her to his car
where they listened to some of his music.
She had told me about this and asked me what I thought of
the guy. I didn’t think too much of him one way or another,
because I really didn’t know him.
“He’s kind of weird,” she told me, “but he asked me out.”
I laughed and told her to have a ball, not taking her too
seriously that she would ever really go out with the guy.
She was a senior. He was a sophomore. In high school years,
that qualified as May-December romance.
Needless to say, I was rather stunned when in May of that
year, Eric Stukel and his friends arrived to stop Tammy and
me from going out to get a bite to eat after work.
(She was going to tell me about her plans after graduation
that night, and I was going to pretend I was happy about
seeing her leave town that fall for college.)
Our boss was smart enough to see a potential conflict
brewing and, not liking the looks of Stukel or his friends
and knowing I had something of a temper, wouldn’t allow
Eric or his friends to enter the theater.
Tammy went out and talked to Stukel and returned and told
me that Eric didn’t want her spending time with me. Again, I
was stunned…and needless to say, wounded, but I did have
my pride.
At this point, I wasn’t mature enough to understand that
Stukel had become a dangerous and controlling influence in
Tammy’s life.
Jumping ahead—my friends and I were screening Robin
Hood, Prince of Thieves (the version with Kevin Costner
and his lack of British accent) on the morning of June 14,
1991. Tammy hadn’t planned on showing up that day, so I
was surprised to have her pull me from the back row of the
theater into the lobby about twenty minutes after the show
started. She had just come from Eric Stukel’s house to pick
up something she had left there the day before (I’m not sure
what) and she had stumbled across an open notebook on his
desk. Eric wasn’t home at the time, she told me, so she
decided she’d steal a glance at what he’d written.
“I read it,” she said, “and got out of there as fast as I could.”
This was actually the first time I had ever seen her
frightened -- not jump-out-and-go-boo frightened, but
actually sick with fear.
“What did he write?”
“I can’t tell you,” she said. “It’s too horrible. I don’t know
what to do.”
I laughed, not sure if this was a joke. “Just tell me what he
wrote.”
She had a death grip on both my wrists at this point.
“He said he wanted to…something about a cold slab.”
“What did he write?” I said. “Was it about me?”
She blurted it out: “He said he wanted to f**k my cold body
on a cold slab.”
She saw me go white…and then red.
“Don’t get mad,” she said. “I don’t need that either.”
“What else did it say?” I said.
“I don’t know. There was other stuff. I just wanted to get
out of there.”
“I’m going to go find him now,” I said.
“He’ll be with his friends.”
“He’ll need them.”
“No, don’t—” she said. “Let’s just stay here. It’s nothing. I’m
just a bit freaked out. I’m finally seeing what kind of
person he is.”
“Did you get your stuff?” I said.
“My stuff?” she said.
“You don’t have to go back there, do you?” I asked.
“I’m never going back there again.”
I took her at her word, not understanding the power an
abuser has in an abusive relationship.—even an abuser who
was only sixteen.
(And, yes, though it makes no sense, for some reason those
abused -- be it physically, verbally, or emotionally -- always
seem to get drawn back to their abuser.)
As far as I knew, Tammy didn’t see Stukel the rest of that
summer of 1991. She went to college in August and met a guy
down there she started dating.
“She and Stukel may have dated for a few months, one or
two,” I told law enforcement just after Tammy’s funeral.
“I don’t think she ever took it seriously. When I left for
Basic Training in June (of 1992,) she told me she didn’t
want anything to do with him again. Eric Stukel—why do
you keep asking about him? He was ancient history.”
“Do you remember anything else he might have written
about her?” the investigators asked me, “or any other
incidents involving Eric Stukel?”
“No,” I said. “Like I told you—she didn’t want anything to
do with him.”
At this point, I was pretty much out of the loop. I had no
clue Eric Stukel was being investigated by law enforcement
for Tammy’s murder, and the investigators were pretty
careful about not asking me any leading questions pointed
toward Eric Stukel’s guilt.
Little did I know law enforcement had stumbled upon more
of Eric Stukel’s writings over the course of their
investigation—a pretty amazing circumstance considering
Stukel would have nearly a week to destroy all the evidence
implicating him in Tammy’s murder.
But the evidence is what counts and here was what was
presented in court and reported in the papers.
This all came from a two-paged hand-written composition
entitled “If This Is Love, I’ll Take It On The Face” seized by
law enforcement on Oct. 5, 1992 from Eric Stukel’s bedroom
and later determined to have been written by Stukel: *
Sometimes I hate Tammy, but I really miss her.
I admit I played with her mind.
Someone special sent me here to change her.
We made love forever. She is the greatest to me.
I have no girl, no car, but I have pot.
I treated her like shit.
I would give my life just to hold her.
I am taking her to L.A. with me, even if I have to kill her.
Kill Tammy, yeah I thought about it.
Eric Stukel claims he just wrote this stuff “off the top of his
head” ** and that he didn’t mean those things.
So—let me buckle in again—he writes about killing Tammy
and then she winds up dead…
Would anybody in their right mind chalk this up to mere
coincidence?
m.c. merrill
* SOURCE: Rothanzl, Lorna. “Experts Testify in
Stukel Trial.” Yankton Press and Dakotan. Sept. 28th,
1996.
** SOURCE: Rothanzl, Lorna. “Stukel Takes Stand.”
Yankton Press and Dakotan. Oct. 3rd, 1996.
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