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Part 4: In which I confess to Attempted Murder
- To: misc_(_at_)_openbsd_(_dot_)_org
- Subject: Part 4: In which I confess to Attempted Murder
- From: "amanda smith" <amanda_smith388_(_at_)_hotmail_(_dot_)_com>
- Date: Wed, 23 Feb 2005 05:20:33 +0000
This concludes the events that immediately followed from my visit to Elinor
Markgraf's house at 18212 NW 6th Ave, Portland OR 97231 in the summer of
After I had gone to Children's Services to report the horrifying condition
of our four youngest children and of the starved cattle and they had refused
even to hear me out, I returned to Eugene in turmoil. What on earth was I
to do?. Her father didn't want to know, her mother was dead, and the Oregon
department of social welfare designed to deal with such problems reneged on
I soon arrived at a decision, waking at 3am to the nightmare of this
"You have to kill her".
"But she's always with the kids, how can I do that in front of them"?
"She has to be stopped; there's no other way to do it, you have to kill
This internal dialog was my constant companion as the night wore away,
together with the terrible memory of the four youngest sitting still and
silent, staring at nothing, while minutes passed by.
I made my preparations for murder, packing a bedroll and the handle from my
pickax into one of those 4ft long army kit bags, caught the bus and arrived
in Portland that afternoon. The conflicted parts of my persona continued
their struggle unabated. Memories of the past few days fought for mind time
with projections of the near future, my beating Elinor to death with the
pickax handle while the children screamed.
I rode my bicycle out of Portland, along Skyline Blvd to Cornelius Pass,
then down the hill a little to where the railroad track enters the tunnel.
I walked my bike down the track away from the tunnel to a small rocky area
often used for target practise. It was late afternoon. I was completely
exhausted from the internal conflict. I had no idea what to do. Plainly
the murder faction within me was the stronger and, as things stood, would
succeed in getting me to the house with my club; equally plainly, I was no
longer in any condition to kill a fly, let alone marching into a house
containing seven people and beating one of them to death in front of the
So I temporized with myself, "go to sleep now and get up before dawn; do it
while they're all asleep, with luck it will be over and done without even
waking the kids up". Such sage advice; I laid out my bedroll and went to
sleep. And awoke to daylight.
For a moment I thought it was the same day. But the air was too cool, I had
slept the clock round and it was early morning. Cursing, the murder faction
leapt me from my bedroll, into my clothes, snatched up the pickax handle and
set off at a run towards the house about a mile away. As I ran I planned my
approach strategy. Rather than take the longer route down to the road from
the railroad track and then up the driveway to the house, I took the
shortcut thru the woods and the undergrowth at the end of the neighbors
yard, which led directly down to the house. Speed was of the essence if I
was to get there before they started waking up.
I broke from cover for the last 50 yard dash to the house, crossed the
electric fence that surrounded Mr, Charboneau's vegetable garden, and heard
Elinor calling from the bathroom to Gus outside the house, hidden from my
view behind some sheds. "Gus, there's a man in the bushes, go up to Mr
Charboneau and have him call the police". Gus answered "What ... why?", and
Elinor urged again "go to Mr Charboneau, have him call the police", and Gus
replied "oh ... all right" and began walking down the driveway.
I stood at bat with the pickax handle a few seconds longer, then aborted the
attempt and returned home. I made no further attempts to kill Elinor,
plainly I really didn't want to kill her (something made me sleep 5 hours
longer than I usually do, and why did I choose the only approach to the
house that lay in full view of the bathroom and one of the bedrooms, which
almost guaranteed I would be seen if people were just waking up?).
Perhaps you feel this is a pretty thin example of attempted murder, that I
never got closer than 50 feet to the target, never entered the building she
was in, and abandoned the approach as soon as I was seen. The statute
concerned (Oregon Revised Statutes 161.405) reads in part:
!0Attempt!1 described. (1) A person is guilty of an attempt to commit a
crime when the person intentionally engages in conduct which constitutes a
substantial step toward commission of the crime.
The phrase "substantial step" is obviously open to interpretation.
Premeditation is required and present; I planned the act ahead of time and
carried the chosen murder weapon (pickax handle) with me all the way from
Eugene. "Substantial step"; intent on murder I travelled more than 120
miles and abandoned the attempt with but 50 feet to go, only because the
necessary conditions (everyone asleep) weren't met.
In these 4 emails I have reported a number of horribly disturbing incidents.
All are true. You either believe me or you do not.
If you believe me then plainly I have committed a major crime, while Elinor
Markgraf is insane and an ongoing danger to her children's welfare,
regardless of the fact that they are now adults.
If you don't believe me then you probably think I'm viciously assassinating
Elinor Markgraf's character, and should be taught a stiff lesson. The means
is at hand; attempted murder is a major felony and there are people serving
as much as 75 years for this crime. Elinor Markgraf and Gus Lawrence can
confirm the end of the account I have made here.
Whatever you believe, bring me to justice. I should be brought to trial and
serve my sentence if convicted. Don't let Elinor slide out of this by
claiming I'm crazy and don't know what I'm saying.
If I'm guilty I should serve my sentence. Elinor is insane and our children
should be fully apprised of the danger she is to them. The only way to
realize these ends is to put me on trial. Please help me bring this about.
Demand that authority bring me to justice. Thank you.
Graham Lawrence 1/31/2005
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