Editor’s note: Ten years ago, two prosecutors in the Kaufman County Criminal District Attorney’s Office were murdered by a disgruntled defendant they had tried months before. Mark Hasse, the office’s first assistant, was shot and killed in the courthouse parking lot on his way into work, and three months later, Mike McLelland, the elected DA, and his wife, Cynthia, were shot and killed in their own home. Their assailant, Eric Williams, was eventually arrested, tried, and convicted of capital murder; his wife, Kim Williams, was also tried and sentenced to 40 years in prison for her part in the crimes.
We asked members of the Kaufman County DA’s Office and the lead prosecutor of the trial team on the Williams case to look back on that time 10 years ago when their friends and colleagues were killed. For many of them, it was painful to remember the events of early 2013, but they generously shared their memories of that season, stories of their late coworkers, and lessons they have taken away from that awful time.
Amanda Morris
Key Personnel in Kaufman County
This is probably my third or fourth attempt to put words on paper since we were asked to give some type of input for a tribute for this journal. It’s hard. It’s still really hard, even after a whole decade, to find words. It’s been a struggle to think about those days that were probably the hardest days of my life.
Mark Hasse was one of two prosecutors I worked directly with at the time. I was his secretary, and at that time I had been working in the district attorney’s office for almost 10 years. I was lucky enough that I got to work with him from the time he came into our office until he was gone. Even though my dad begged me to quit my job during these events, I chose to stay. I chose to stay because I will not let evil win and I love what I do.
My desk was right outside his office. He would often come sit on the big windowsill (about the size of a small bench) by my desk and talk about cases we were working on, but he would always end up telling some kind of story from his days in Dallas as a prosecutor, or when he and a friend went into private practice, and about his plane and flying. He was a giving person and would often help anyway he could. I recall a time when one of our probation officers was having car trouble, so he told her to bring the car to his airplane hangar where he worked on it free of charge.
In 1995 Mark had a crash while flying an airplane that he had been working on. He suffered a significant head injury and was in a coma for a short time. He ended up having surgery and a metal plate was placed where his skull was shattered. He even brought his X-rays to work to show everyone because he thought we didn’t believe him. The only permanent damage he suffered was the loss of his sense of smell. That turned into a funny story because our office loved to prank each other and joke around when time allowed. One day we sprinkled some dry parmesan cheese, the kind you get with your pizza, in his trash can so his office would smell like dirty feet. Later that afternoon one of our investigators was sitting in there talking to him about a case when we heard him ask, “What’s that smell?” Mark responded, “I don’t know, I can’t smell anything.” The investigator started sniffing around and finally found the cheese in the trash can. Mark started laughing and asked, “Who put that in there?” So the prank kind of backfired, but we confessed to it and we all shared a good laugh.
Mark’s main passion was seeking justice. He cared about his cases and the people affected by crime. One year during the Christmas holiday he bought a few gifts and took them to Children’s Hospital in Dallas where one of his child victims was admitted. He spent that Christmas Day with the child and her mom and gave them gifts to make sure they had a Christmas. He would often meet his victims and visit them outside of the office for the first meeting with them. He would do whatever he needed to make his victims, especially children, as comfortable and confident as possible. He was one of the most passionate prosecutors I’ve ever had the opportunity to work with.
Mike McLelland was our elected district attorney. He put people in the right places so the office could run the way it needed to. He had a legal background in mental health, so he didn’t have significant experience in criminal law when he was initially elected DA. I always liked to hear stories about his prior clients and how he would go to the mental hospitals for hearings. His wife, Cynthia, was a nurse at Terrell State Hospital, so maybe that is what sparked his interest to represent those clients. Cynthia was a cordial lady who supported Mike and was his biggest fan. She loved to make quilts and bake. She would often make treats and bring them to the office, and we would joke about how she was trying to “plump us up.” She and Mike were so infatuated with one another and were sure to let everyone know. They were like teenagers who had just started dating. They loved to have guests at their house and even hosted a Christmas party for the office. Cynthia must have been baking for days with the number of goodies they would have. They were both sweet and caring.
They say time heals all wounds but unfortunately, we’ve learned that’s not true. You learn to live and go on, but we will forever have triggers or situations that take us back to the beginning of 2013. Not only those of us that were in the office at the time, but our kids, other employees throughout the county, and the small town of Kaufman as a whole. We are forever changed. Mark, Mike, and Cynthia are dearly missed and will never be forgotten. Those of us who still work together will continue to gather and talk about memories and experiences. We’ve learned there is not a single person better to talk to than the ones who experienced a tragedy with you. They understand the continuing emotions, stresses, and the changes we’ve had to endure to cope. I am thankful for my work family and the bond we have. One thing I never thought while working in the district attorney’s office is that I would become a crime victim myself. We were victims. We were victims who were working on our own case to help solve the murder of our coworker and boss. That’s something I hope no one ever has to experience again.
While this was such a horrific tragedy, we got to witness firsthand how the law enforcement community comes together in a time of need. When one of their brothers is taken, they forget about any tension or disagreements between departments and agencies and work as a team. I have never seen so many levels of the justice system come together under one roof at the same time. We had everyone: local, state, and federal law enforcement; current prosecutors and staff; past prosecutors; and investigators in an old armory building set up as the investigation headquarters. I am beyond thankful for Bill Wirskye and Toby Shook for taking on this case and fighting for justice for not only Mark, Mike, and Cynthia but also their families, friends, those of us who were or still are employees in the district attorney’s office, and all of Kaufman County, and especially the small community of Kaufman. The day Eric Williams was sentenced to death is a day I will never forget. It brought some closure and a little relief, but we will always be impacted by this tragic event.
If you ever want to know the details of the “Kaufman County murders,” check out the book In Plain Sight by Kathryn Casey. Several of us didn’t want to talk to the media or the “book lady” because we didn’t want to gain any attention from this tragedy, but Ms. Casey must have some amazing investigative skills. It’s the closest thing to the facts of these events that I’ve seen yet.
Erleigh N. Wiley
Criminal District Attorney in Kaufman County
For many of us who were colleagues of Mike McLelland and Mark Hasse, it is hard to believe that it has been 10 years since their murders and the murder of Mike’s wife, Cynthia.
For those of us who worked with Mike and Mark in Kaufman County, we remember where we were when we heard the disturbing news. And though it has been 10 years, sometimes it is hard to believe that they were murdered.
After I was appointed the DA, and having been with the Kaufman County District Attorney’s Office for 10 years, it has been an honor to work with some of the same people who were here in 2013 and to watch the growth and the progress over the last decade. The legacies of Mark and Mike in our office is profound. They will be remembered for their service, but also for the men they were to our office and to Kaufman County.
Michelle Bork
Paralegal in Kaufman County
This has been a difficult week trying to put down words on paper. Every time I begin, emotions well up and I can’t finish. I have had to step away so many times, I’m not sure I can or even want to complete this tribute. Digging up some memories of those days, you think you are fine and have moved past the fear, pain, hurt, and sadness, and you realize you have just compressed everything deep down and tried to ignore it. So I will try my best to put things down, especially when I feel that only those who experienced that time together will truly understand the moments and feelings we went through and how we are dealing with it all now.
I had been a legal assistant for eight years and had worked under two district attorneys. I remember when Mike McLelland won the election. He was the third DA I had worked for. Some of us in the office were concerned about his military toughness that was perceived during the election—not that it was ever a bad thing. We were just used to having an easygoing atmosphere. When a new elected official comes in, you wonder if you will even “make the cut.”
The first day of work, Mike had us gather in one of the smaller courtrooms and spoke to us. He shared about who he was, what he had done, and what he wanted to do. He was determined that structure was needed in our office, and he told us that he would like things to be more efficient. The first month seemed like an evaluation, yet soon we realized Mike was a personable man. He cared for all of us, our families, and of course the citizens of Kaufman County.
Cynthia, his wife, was a sweet and caring woman. She would come to the office and bring us treats, especially her delicious “trash mix.” She would make quilts for prosecutors and staff, for those getting married, or for the babies on the way.
One of my fondest memories of Mike and one I am most thankful for is that he took care of us girls in the office and provided a chance for us to attend a paralegal certificate course. It helped us be successful in our jobs, but it also helped us financially when he told the county commissioners that his staffers were now paralegals and needed increased salaries. And this chance is still given by the current DA for any new staff that join us.
Mike brought in Mark Hasse as his first assistant. Mark was a smart man and a great prosecutor. He loved to share stories of his life, cases he had prosecuted, and his favorite pastime of flying planes. He would come to work in some wild sweaters—not wild in some people’s opinion, I am sure, but very dated to me. It would make us chuckle. At Christmastime we would wear ugly Christmas sweaters, which started as a joke, but after Mark was gone it became a way to honor him.
January 31, 2013, was a day we never expected. I was coming to work and I heard some pops, but it did not sound like gunshots. Plus, I was so focused on getting into work because I was running a bit late that I did not think anything about it.
I walked into the courthouse and went into the restroom to freshen up before going in the office, where police sirens were heard around the square. I walked to the back doors and looked out, thinking how we usually have sirens passing by, but these seemed overwhelmingly close. One of our bailiffs ran out the back door saying that something happened. From there it is a blur—I’m not sure if I am just blocking it out, but by the time I got up to our front office, I remember a colleague trying to contact Mark on his cell. It was Mark who had been shot.
We stayed in our office with the doors shut, and the courthouse was put on lockdown. We were escorted out of the courthouse by law enforcement and our investigators armed with rifles, and we drove to the hospital right up the road. Mike McLelland wanted us to be in a safe location and to account for everyone outside of the courthouse. At the hospital, in a meeting room, we were in tears and in shock trying to understand what had happened. I remember Mike coming in to talk with us and he had been crying and his face was red. He was trying to be as strong as he could when he spoke about what had happened and told us that Mark had been killed. We prayed, we cried, and we held each other, some of us in complete shock and everything was at standstill. Mark was gone. Who does that? Why? And why Mark?
Escorted back to the office by law enforcement and our investigators, we tried to reach family members. I remember the phones at the office were continuing to ring nonstop. The news was spreading fast. My husband had left his job and parked as close as he could to the courthouse to pick me up. One of our investigators with an AR walked me to my husband’s truck. After that, my husband did not want to leave my side. He would follow me to work each morning, and once we were at the office, we were met by investigators or law enforcement who escorted us inside with ARs in their hands.
In the days following, agents were in and out of our office asking questions, looking through Mark’s office, and looking through files. Many worked long hours to figure out what happened—could it have been a defendant Mark was prosecuting, or one from his past? Was this murder random? Though some had suspicions, many questions ran through our minds: Was it a one-time thing? If not, who is next? Do I need to be concerned—I was just a paralegal.
I kept going in to work. We all did—we wanted to be together, we understood each other, and we wanted to help figure out who did this and why. When I went home, my husband would make sure the house was safe, and we slept with a gun next to the bed, if my husband slept at all.
At one point, Mike McLelland stood at the steps of the sheriff’s office pronouncing to all who could hear that he was going to find the son of a bitch and pull them out of whatever hole they crawled in. And we believed he would.
Easter weekend, while enjoying a hotdog cookout, time with family, and laughter, my husband got a phone call. All I remember was Michelle Stambaugh, our office manager and Mike’s paralegal, was on the phone, and she said that Mike and Cynthia had been murdered. We were to meet at the Kaufman First Assembly of God Church. The questions overwhelmingly came up again: Were any of us safe, and who was next? Another prosecutor from our office or even the staff? We were told it would probably be best not to go home and stay somewhere for the weekend. We stayed at a hotel in Canton.
The next Monday, we didn’t have to go back to work, but we all did. We had a job to do—we were scared, and we wanted to be with our office family. We talked, we cried, and some drowned ourselves with work. We chose to work because it had to go on. We had cases to prep and court that was still happening. The world does not stop when something like this occurs.
We waited for the day when law enforcement would catch the murderer and for his prosecution. We basically knew from the beginning who it was. I don’t even want to give him the pleasure of mentioning his name. He is evil and will pay for what he has done. That day will come, and we are waiting.
An office is a family, and we became a stronger family through this time from January to April, and in the days, months, and years following. We talk about Mark, Mike, and Cynthia at times. We are still close with the McLelland children, whom we message or get to visit occasionally. That helps us all. Even this week, with us trying to gather our thoughts and memories of the tragic and horrifying events, we have managed to still support and help each other. Knowing that I am not the only one struggling makes me feel just a little better so I’m not losing it. These three will always be remembered. This time will never be forgotten, and we are not sure if it will ever be easy for us.
Leslie Odom
Assistant Criminal District Attorney in Kaufman County
The difficulty of looking back 10 years in search of good memories in Kaufman is that they are only reached through reminders of trauma, stress, and sadness. And quite frankly, writing this tribute has been troubling because those were horrible, long days that turned into painful and lasting memories.
That being said, I will share a few memories of Mike, Cynthia, and Mark that I cherish.
It was clear to me that Mike and Cynthia both loved joining the office family. Mike was proud of the office, and I would often see him in the back of the courtroom. I recall following a jury trial success, he stopped by my office to visit and offer his “attaboys” to me. He would also handwrite his Christmas cards to us with thoughtful, personal messages; I still set those out each Christmas as my holiday décor. It was equally clear to me that Mike and Cynthia very much loved each other and their family. Cynthia was often in the office to visit or go to lunch with Mike; she would regularly bring treats or handmade quilts to attorneys and staff. She was truly a kind soul.
I didn’t know Mark as well as Mike and Cynthia; however, I can still see his tall, thin figure walking the halls, more often than not wearing a camel trench coat. He always had stories for anyone who would listen to him. Mark was so fond of prosecution, but also of flying. To this day, when I see a small prop plane in the sky, I smile with Mark on my mind.
I choose not to write about the days following January 31, 2013 (Mark’s death), with one exception: I recall hearing news travel through the office that prosecutor offices from across Texas, as well as the TDCAA administration, reached out to us immediately offering assistance. Those gestures were most appreciated, but the general feeling in the office was that we were moving forward together; nothing was going to stop us.
Shirley Bruner
Victim Assistance Coordinator in Kaufman County
I was in the office on January 31, 2013, preparing my work for the day when I get a call that a shooting at the courthouse annex in the parking lot had occurred. Mark Hasse, one of our prosecutors, had been murdered. This was not real to me—I just could not believe this was happening. I was worried and scared for our office and courthouse families. I was also thinking who might be next.
After that, people from so many law enforcement agencies were in our office, and the secretaries were helping them go through Mark’s cases in the investigation of his murder. The girls worked nonstop. The office had such a sense of loss, as though you were in a dream and were just waiting to wake up. We were just praying that the person responsible would be caught soon.
Mark was a good prosecutor. He was always a very caring person. When it came to the victims, he was there for them. I remember one case that involved a child and she was in the hospital. It was Christmastime. Mark went out and bought presents and he was going to take them to the little girl. He said he was going to spend Christmas with her.
Mark loved chocolate and he came to the candy jar daily. He came around to my office every day to ask how I was and to sit down to discuss a case he may be working on. I miss those chats and I think of him and his family often.
On March 30, 2013, I was watching TV at home when I got a phone call from Michelle Stambaugh, our office manager and Mike McLelland’s personal secretary. She told me Mike and Cynthia both had been shot and killed at their home. I was so shocked and stunned by this. It just could not be happening. I thought about their families and what they were going through with this loss. Mike had been so bound and determined to find the person responsible for Mark’s murder.
Mike always wanted to make a difference for Kaufman County. He really cared about his office and his staff. He was always so thoughtful and cared about the safety of his people. He was so excited to be a part of a program we put in place for observance of National Crime Victims’ Rights Week. He liked to be involved and was always cheerful and ready to listen to you. Mike and Cynthia liked to entertain; Cynthia would bake cookies for our office, which Mike would proudly bring in. He would come around and announce that he had cookies for the office.
We still cope with the loss of Mark Hasse and Mike and Cynthia McLelland, and we pray that God continues to give us strength to do our work and keep all of us safe.
Bill Wirskye
First Assistant Criminal District Attorney in Collin County
No case I’ve handled is more indelibly imprinted on my mind than the murders in Kaufman County in early 2013. Because it often seems to me like the murders happened yesterday, it’s difficult to believe that Mark, Mike, and Cynthia have been gone for 10 years. In thinking about their deaths, I’d like to share some personal reflections and give an update on the case.
Mark Hasse and I had much in common: We both started our career in the Dallas County Criminal District Attorney’s Office, we had many mutual friends in the North Texas legal community, and we shared a love of prosecution. It was, and is, hard for me to fathom that he was killed for doing what he loved—prosecuting cases. Back in 2013, I doubt many Texas prosecutors thought we could be targeted for seeking justice. I know that thought never seemed real to me. That all changed when Mark was gunned down outside the courthouse.
Mark was 57 years of age when he was murdered—10 years older than I was when I joined the case. Only now that I’m 57 and looking forward to many more years of enjoying life can I fully appreciate just how short his life was cut. In fact, the conversation I had with him the week before his death was centered on his plans for the future. He wanted to spend more time with his family, flying, and working on airplanes. Mark had many more years in front of him and I’m sad to think of all the pleasant experiences he missed. His colleagues, friends, and family members miss him terribly.
Mike and Cynthia McLelland were far from the anonymous homicide victims that I’d come to expect after years of prosecuting murder cases in a big city. I knew both of them, and I knew them to be good people. I watched them struggle to process Mark’s murder, and I admired how they tried to comfort and rally the members of the Kaufman County Criminal District Attorney’s Office as they persevered to keep prosecuting amidst fear and grieving. Then on the day before Easter Sunday 2013, I watched that office try to process the unprecedented: losing Mike and Cynthia so shortly after losing Mark.
These days, I tend to think of Mike and Cynthia’s grandchildren. I sometimes see their photos on Facebook, and I can sense the terrible toll that the murders have inflicted on the next generation of their family. I hope their grandkids grow up knowing what fine people their grandparents were, even if they never got a chance to meet them.
As for the capital murder case against Eric Williams, who murdered Mark, Mike, and Cynthia, the capital post-conviction process is on track. We are out of state court, having prevailed on both the direct appeal and the state writ. His death sentence is now in federal court on a writ, and we remain optimistic about the ultimate outcome. Kim Williams, his wife and accomplice, pled guilty for her role in the murders and is currently serving a 40-year prison sentence. Rest assured that even after all this time, a dedicated group of Texas prosecutors continues to work this case on a daily basis.
Interest in the case remains high, and I’ve been informed that “Dateline” will update its original episode on these crimes to mark the passage of 10 years in an episode that will air in the next few months. There have been numerous other TV shows, podcasts, and books written about the case. It seems almost monthly I get a new media inquiry about it.
As I look back at the murders and the death penalty trial, it’s hard to take away any positives. But I do have warm feelings for the many dedicated professionals from diverse agencies and backgrounds who came to together in early 2013 to successfully solve and prosecute these murders. It was police and prosecutors at their finest, motivated by the need to stop the killings. These professionals remain some of my closest colleagues and friends. While many have moved on professionally, we remain bound together by our work 10 years ago in Kaufman County.
Processing unbelievable loss while living in fear was a challenge for Kaufman County 10 years ago. The Kaufman community and the DA’s office have survived and continue to thrive. But I know everyone who lived through that time still carries scars and a profound sense of loss.
Michelle Stambaugh
Office Manager in Kaufman County
Oh Lord, Mark Hasse was a walking story! Every single day you were sure to hear a new story (or a repeated one, as often happened) about one of his high-profile trials, flying planes, or the plane crash in 1995 that almost took his life. Mark was a very animated storyteller, and as much as we loved (and endured) his stories, we all knew that once he started a story, you were in it for a minimum of 45 minutes! And I’m certain there is not a person who loved the annual Ugly Christmas Sweater contest as much as Mark. We all thought his everyday sweaters were lacking in style, but he loved them and wore them proudly. In fact, because of his sweaters, we continue to honor him with ugly sweater days.
Mark also loved prosecuting. He loved putting away the bad guys, and he loved recounting his prosecution wins. He was a very eccentric man. Definitely a little on the odd, nerdy side—but so stinkin’ funny and you could not help but love him. He always had a smile and story for everyone, he loved taking care of his mom, and he loved bidding on things on Ebay. He would submit bids on vehicles and other items and track the bids the entire day, anxiously waiting to see how the auction turned out.
Here’s one funny, quirky memory: Mark loved Country Time Lemonade. He would keep 12 packs of the cans in the office fridge. He always knew how many he had in there. When lemonades would come up missing, he would check people’s trash cans to try to solve the mystery of who was absconding with his drinks. He would have given the lemonade to anyone who wanted it, but the fact that they were taking it without asking made him crazy. Still makes me laugh.
The election that Mike McLelland won, putting him into office, was actually a really ugly campaign, and we had really loved working for our prior DA. As a result of the campaign and circulating rumors, we were all anxious about him coming into office. And, quite honestly, we worried about this experience and how he would lead. But Mike and Cynthia really ended up winning our hearts.
After the election, he reached out to me to help with the transition between administrations. He would send messages to the office through me and began having meetings with staff to put their minds at ease.
He could definitely be an intimidating person. But after he took office and everyone got to know him, he was really a big ol’ teddy bear. He and Cynthia really cared about the office and the staff. They would have Christmas parties at their home and invite the whole staff, Cynthia would bring weekly treats to the office, they loved everyone’s children, and Mike actually gave both of my daughters their first real jobs by allowing them to do part-time work in the office during their summer breaks in high school and college. Mike always wanted to know what was going on with everyone’s children and what activities they were involved in, and he always had a story to tell the kids to offer advice for whatever they were involved in (and it was most likely going to have some reference to something he experienced in the military).
Here’s one funny story: Mike decided at one point that he was going to get into shape so he joined the local gym. He would stop by and exercise in the morning on his way into the office. During one of his morning exercises, a bar that he was working from broke (I’m still not clear on the specifics) and he face-planted on the floor. A day or two later the bruising had set in, and he walked in one morning with two black eyes, bruised cheeks, and a bruised forehead. Once I determined that he was OK—and after calling Cynthia to confirm (because she had been a nurse)—I have never laughed so hard. I still laugh today when I think about this big man walking into the office with his face bruised like that—and not because of some grand story, but because the bar broke and he fell!
When Mike came into the office, he primarily wanted to be an administrator and leave the prosecuting to the prosecutors (those were his words). But when big cases would come in, he certainly went into the courtroom. He was absolutely not the usual prosecutor, nor did he have a great deal of experience prosecuting, but he was a good leader and definitely started programs and practices that made the office a better place for the staff. It had been really hard over the years to get raises approved for the support staff, so Mike decided that he would pay for people to take a paralegal certificate course. He used that additional training and certification to request increases for them. The girls were so grateful! This is still a practice that has continued to this day.
A sad thought I often have is that a position that Mike worked so hard to win, having run in two elections, is the very thing that took his life.
The morning Mark was shot, I was at my desk on the phone with my dentist’s office trying to schedule appointments. We heard that shots had been fired outside the courthouse and the bailiffs were checking it out. Moments later, my colleague Ashley Cook came to my desk and said, “It was Mark! Mark was shot!” Within moments everyone in our office had gathered and the courthouse was cleared.
There was lots of confusion. Was Mark alive? Was he not? We heard there was also a car chase? So many bits and pieces of information were trickling in, and we were not sure what was true and what was not.
We were finally told that Mark had been taken to the hospital in Kaufman and we were all to go there; they had a room ready for us. Mike had the sheriff’s department escort us over to make sure we all safe and accounted for. We all sat there numb, in shock and disbelief, waiting for word as to Mark’s condition. Finally, Mike came into the room and he had clearly been crying. The first words he said were, “Those MFers (abbreviated for politeness) killed Mark.” Tears and more tears. Why in the world? And who does this?
Everyone’s phone was beginning to ring with loved ones wanting to make sure that people who worked at the courthouse were OK. I remember that I had not been able to answer my cell phone for a while in the midst of all of the chaos. When I finally checked my phone, there was a voicemail from my daughter who was in lockdown at her school. She was crying and saying, “Mom, please answer your phone. I’m scared.” Not only had this horrible person created fear within our DA family, but he was affecting our children and family too.
The most heartbreaking of all the calls were the repeated phone calls we were getting from Mark’s mom. She had heard that there had been a shooting at the courthouse, but no one was releasing the name of who had been shot. She had been trying to reach Mark on his cell phone and was getting no answer. She kept calling our receptionist’s phone asking about Mark. Officers and a Department of Public Safety victim advocate were on their way to her house to break the news to her. We were instructed to tell her that we were accounting for everyone and would forward her message. Our hearts were breaking for her and we could not say anything.
In the hours immediately following Mark’s death, there was no work at the office. In fact, the following week we all showed up, but work was probably at the bare minimum of what had to be done. However, there is nowhere else we would have been. We all wanted to be in the office. Grief counselors were brought in—and we appreciated all that people wanted to do for us—but the reality was that we just wanted to be with each other. As the days went on there was a determination to keep going. And as more time passed, I really think everyone began to settle down and have a small sense of feeling comfortable again and breathing. And then the unthinkable happened: Mike and Cynthia were murdered in their own home.
My husband and I were at Sonic that evening when our pastor, Jerry Groom, called and asked me if I had talked to Mike that day. It was not uncommon for me and Mike to talk after hours and on weekends about the office. However, this was Easter weekend and not a lot was going on at the office so we had actually not spoken at all that day. I asked why and he said that he had heard that Mike and Cynthia had been shot in their home. What in the world?!
I immediately hung up and called David Byrnes, our sheriff at the time. He answered the phone, and I knew immediately by his somber tone that something was not OK. I told him about the phone call I had just received, and he told me that he was at Mike and Cynthia’s home. He confirmed they had both been shot and were deceased, and I will never forget his next words: “Michelle, I have never seen anything like this.”
Between the tears, not being able to breathe, and being sick to my stomach, all I could think was, “What do I do? What do I do? What do I do? I’m the office manager and need to make sure everyone is OK and that everyone knows.” I began calling each prosecutor and staff member to tell them there was an office emergency and asking them to meet me at my church, which was at the center of town. After everyone arrived, I shared with them what had happened. I cannot begin to tell you the amount of sadness, anger, and fear in that room that evening.
There were so many questions and we had no answers. We were all fearful, as it was now clear that whoever had killed Mark and now Mike and Cynthia had something against our office. And this person was not afraid, as he went right into Mike and Cynthia’s home. We were scared!
A Forney police officer later arrived at the church and began asking us questions and giving us more information. He told us they had no idea who the perpetrator was or if they had more targets, but to be safe, they would encourage each of us to not stay in our own homes that evening. What!? I think that set off a whole new level of reality and fear for us. They did not want us to stay in our own homes? Was someone really aiming to pick off people from our office? I had two young daughters at home and we were scared.
Everyone began making other arrangements for the evening. For us, we had no family in the area, so we took our girls and went to a local hotel for the night. I remember as we checked in and it was raining, a man got on the elevator with us. He was soaking wet, carrying his muddy boots in his hand, and looking a little disheveled. Could this be the person? I held my girls a little closer, and my husband put his hand on the gun he was carrying in his pocket. From that night on through the next couple of months, every noise outside of our house scared us. Every person who seemed different was scary to us. Dogs barking outside our window scared us. We were all scared.
And while law enforcement kept saying they did not know who it was, we all kept saying it was Eric Williams.
That Monday, there were lots of tears and not a lot of work happening. Some people just sat together—no words were needed. Others sat and talked through their take of the events from the weekend; shared memories of Mark, Mike, and Cynthia; shared their questions—like why had Mike sent his security detail home that weekend? He’d had security at his house since Mark’s murder, as did most of our prosecutors. But this was Easter weekend and Mike was Mike—he probably sent them home to be with their own families. And then, how did Eric know that no security was going to be there? And why did Cynthia feel so comfortable to open her door at 6 o’clock in the morning? So many questions.
When Eric and Kim Williams were finally arrested, the investigation and prosecution of Mark, Mike, and Cynthia’s murders absolutely strengthened my belief in the justice system. And I think I can speak for the majority of the people who worked with us at the time of the murders that if nothing else, it created a determination and resolve that those murders would not be in vain and that we will keep showing up every day to bring justice for crime victims in Kaufman County.
Their murders definitely had different effects on each staff person at the time. Some had to have counseling, some still struggle with PTSD from the murders, and others are like me—we tuck it neatly away and keep going—until a television show or interview comes across the TV, someone asks about the murders, or one of Mike’s children comes to the office to visit (which they usually do once a year). Then the memories return and so do all the fears and sadness. It’s crazy how you can so vividly remember specific moments, thoughts, feelings, smells, conversations, etc. from such a traumatic moment and how all the original feelings can briefly return.
One of the biggest takeaways for me, which might be common sense, is to make sure people know how much they are appreciated and how you feel about them every day. You absolutely never know when your last day may be. Mark did not know when he dressed for work that day and got out of his truck that it would be his last day. Mike and Cynthia had no idea when they went to bed Saturday night that it would be their last evening together. Every day is a gift—we need to remember that and live that way.