Parole Protest 2018… Here We Go Again

Carl Edward Chambers is up for parole again.  I don’t think there’s a lot ‘new’ to say.   He should never walk free. Period.   I understand the asinine rules of mandatory release that the state of TX didn’t think through when they allowed for first degree felons to be freed, even if on parole/”supervision”.  Repeat offenders and those who have caused bodily harm to another human being have no business being among law abiding citizens.  They lost that right with their CALCULATED  DECISIONS to hurt others.    The State of TX is complicit with what happened to me.  All they can do now is keep Chambers contained like the animal he is.

1.  He plea bargained to a 60 year sentence, and is not due for mandatory release (again) YET.   It’s time he does ONE thing positive, and complete his incarceration (as much as possible with “mandatory-freedom-to-hurt-more-innocent-people” still in play with this case).   He’s already botched one round of mandatory release, so why give him the chance to hurt someone else?   THAT is my primary reason for continuing to protest his release.   My life is trashed, and I’ve made sure I have plenty of options for defending myself.   He was very calculated with what he did to me, even stealing my address and phone number from the sister he was staying with, in order to target me.   I can’t be the only woman who reminds him of his first wife…. that’s what I was told- I looked like her.   I’m fairly standard-issue…. overweight, brown/gray haired middle-aged white woman.   Lots of targets in the ‘free world’.

2.  EVERY time he’s been on parole, he’s committed a more violent crime.   Murder is the only thing off of his resumé, that we know of.   Why give him the opportunity?

3.  I’m getting older, and have multiple medical issues, to the point of being disabled for over a decade.   Because of the severity of what Chambers (I refer to him as Numbnuts) did to me, NOBODY else has touched me.  I can’t stand the thought of being ‘handled’ and violated.  The sensation of having another human’s body heat and breath near me is nauseating.   So, I know I’ll die alone.   When I was younger, I always envisioned a life with a husband and house full of kids.   Normal. Happy.  Fun.  LOVE.

4.   My parents are both gone now, but they suffered in knowing what had happened to me.  My dad read the very graphic police statement I gave, when they visited  just  a few months after it happened.  There is always collateral damage when someone violates another human being.  My folks didn’t deserve to have to deal with what happened to me.  They lived 1200 miles away, and I didn’t want them to come initially since there was so much going on with statements, meeting with various legal folks and the rape crisis volunteer, etc.  I encouraged them to talk to their pastor, or even friends… but my mom’s close co-worker at the time took me to dinner the next time I flew home, and asked if I’d been raped- she had watched changes in my mom, and mom wasn’t talking about it.

Initially, my mom just wanted to know if I was pregnant, and I was- but thankfully the spawned little bastard fell into the toilet at about 10-12 weeks after the rape.  I’d never had sex before, so I know ‘what ‘ it belonged to.  I wanted nothing to do with it, but struggled with abortion.  I am adopted, so didn’t want to go that route… so when the cramping started that morning that I’ll never forget, I was SO relieved to see that mass of %50 sociopathic DNA swirl away forever.   Had I gone the adoption route, what could I ever have told that kid if he/she came looking for me ?  How could I ever have spun the tale to make that kid feel like he/she wasn’t one big fat felonious mistake?   And I wouldn’t lie to an adoptee who simply wants the truth about his/her ‘roots’.    That was the only baby I ever ‘carried’…. the impact of the wine cooler bottle that Chambers rammed up my vagina for many, many minutes tore uterine ligaments…. think about that.  What kind of force is required to rip internal, unseen ligaments?    I could not have raised that ‘thing’ without prejudice, and that would have been unforgivable on my part to do to a child.  SO, the toilet ‘delivery’ was a blessing.   And still traumatic.  Rape….the crime that keeps on giving.

5.  The person I was before January 10, 1987 is DEAD.  “She” died the minute I knew what was going on… the knife at my neck, and threats to kill me repeatedly did the job.  My body may have survived, but my dreams of a  husband and kids of my own was gone. For good.   I avoided having time available during ‘normal’ social times like weekends and daylight.   I worked a lot of nights and weekends for a nice excuse to never be alone on a date.   My view of the world was mutated to see ‘plausible risk’ everywhere.  I’ve managed to not be paranoid, but I know that safety is never a guarantee, and nobody really ever knows what someone else is capable of.  That is my worldview post-rape.   There is no ‘safe’.

6.    He still owes me a ‘why?’ answer.   He could easily send it through the Board of Pardons and Parole and it would be forwarded to me.  The lack of any sort of explanation tells me that he would do it again in a heartbeat, and has no remorse.   Just another day for him.  S.O.P.  for Numbnuts.   I used to have ‘revenge fantasies’ early on, involving a vegetable peeler, and Numbnuts restrained in a chair for me to ‘peel’ the part of him that hurt the most.  It’s been years since I imagined that, as revenge isn’t  ‘me’.  But it was a way to cope for a while early on.  Now, I just want what I asked for with the plea bargain.   Sixty years.  No more, no less.  He’ll be in the TX DOCJ system until he’s at least 88 years old.  He’s nearly 60 now- and there is nothing about being 60 that makes him less of a risk.  Last time he was out, he had a lawn-mowing business (enabling him to be alone with homeowners any time he was ‘mowing the lawn’).   How was that idea approved?   He even moved while on “intense” supervision.  So intense he moved without anybody knowing.   Seriously?  That’s “intense” supervision?   I was told he would have an ankle GPS monitor and have to give detailed daily activity plans to his parole officer.   I guess “moving today” didn’t make the list.    Convict + secrets = more crime.

7.    Last go around with parole, he had obviously lied his way into the life of some woman with no self-esteem,  and she married him.  WHILE IN PRISON FOR RAPING  AND BEATING ME.    He’s still manipulating women.  Couldn’t have been honest about what he’d done- or she’s just nuts and passively suicidal.    Her grandsons wrote notes on Chambers’ behalf that sounded like someone with an 8th grade education had dictated them.    I guess Numbnuts was allowed around kids because he opted for adults to violate.   NO WAY I’d let any kid I had be around someone like Numbnuts.  Same idea as letting John Wayne Gacy be a Boy Scout Leader.  Just not a good idea.

8.  I’m a lot more angry now than I was years ago.  Mostly it reflects the isolation and no family of my own.   Had I not been raped, I would have had a shot at “normal”.   Chambers killed me.  He killed my dreams. He killed my belief that most people are good. He killed my ability to feel whole.  He killed any desire to be physically close to another person.  He tormented my parents.   He impregnated me and caused weeks of torment until the spawn was flushed.   He’s shown no remorse that I’ve ever heard about (but he’s a sociopath, so not expecting much there).

Geez… just thought of this.  For  8 years more than half of my life, I’ve been a rape survivor.   Still dealing with the aftermath of someone who CHOSE to make his life useless and cause irreparable damage to mine.   My life stopped at age 23.  And yet 31 years later, I’m still having to justify keeping my “killer” locked up.

 

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2015… Another Parole Hearing for Numbnuts

Here we go again.  The numbnuts (does he deserve a human term?) who raped, sodomized, and beat me for 6 hours in 1987 is up for parole… again.  The same numbnuts who has been on parole at least 5 times since he was 18 years old, and NEVER got off parole before offending again, with increasingly more violent crimes.  He’d been out for less than 40 days when he raped me.  SO what other reasons could I have that I haven’t  stated before, for keeping him behind bars for at least another few years?

Carl Edward Chambers TDCJ # 453210 Convicted rapist

Carl Edward Chambers
TDCJ # 453210
Convicted rapist

I want him in prison for my own peace of mind.  There.  I said it.  Maybe it’s selfish, but that Saturday morning in January 1987 changed my life forever.    I don’t want revenge- I want the sentence he agreed to when HE changed his plea mid-trial, and said he was guilty.  He agreed to a 60 year sentence, and he’s proven repeatedly that he can’t function on parole.  He does something to get back ‘in’. Every. Single. Time.   I realize that there are mandatory release dates- and he’s already blown through one of those.  He will reoffend eventually if he’s let out- and at what cost?

I protest his release because of what he’s capable of doing to someone else.   He’s 56 years old now, and I have no doubt that he still  has the strength to repeat what he did to me, and possibly ‘finish’ what he started, and actually kill someone.   I have no doubt that he would have killed me had I not escaped.  He’d talked about it, and ‘acted out’ dismembering me.  I knew his name, where he was staying, his sister’s name (it was her baby I was taking care of that even put me on his radar- before he stole my address and phone number from her purse, and hunted me specifically- I looked like his first wife). He couldn’t leave me alive.  He plans and carries out his crimes.  His last victim before he attacked me (for whose crime he was on parole) said she would have fought harder for a better sentence if she’d known what he could do (he put a screwdriver to her neck at an Austin bus stop). That means he wouldn’t have been out of prison that Saturday morning, and I wouldn’t be writing this.  I do know what he can do, and I won’t just sit back and let him slink around the justice system without my presence ( if only on paper) being known.

I had always dreamed of having a husband and a bunch of kids.  January 10, 1987 changed all of that.  My first experience with sex was being brutally raped at 23 years old.  And it was my last.  I don’t want anybody that close to me.  I don’t want to smell someone’s breath in my face, or feel their sweat against my body.   I don’t want to be a body orifice for someone else’s ‘amusement’.  I don’t ever want to feel that pain again.  Numbnuts impregnated me. I had his offspring inside of me- but evidently it was defective, because after a lot of cramping one morning,  it fell out into the toilet about 10-12 weeks after the rape.  That’s a visual I can’t unsee… the tiny placenta and jagged edges of tissue sitting in the toilet.  I didn’t want that baby, but it was still a baby.  The only one I’d ever carry.  It was a blessing to lose it, since I couldn’t imagine any of the other alternatives.  But it added to the pain of the entire situation.

If he got out because I didn’t remind the parole board what he’d done to even BE in prison, and did something to someone else, I couldn’t live with myself.  I have to be active in this process, and yet I hate it.  I hate knowing that the date/year is coming up AGAIN, and I’ll have to think even more about that morning, and put something into words that will make some sort of impact on those who decide MY fate with his freedom… or hopefully, continued incarceration.  I shouldn’t even know about the parole process.  Nobody should.

I hate the word ‘victim’.  I was a victim while he was hovering over me, beating me, fucking me (it wasn’t  sex;  it was a brutal, vulgar act- I don’t use that word lightly), sodomizing me, and holding a knife to my neck.  Or spine.  He had me get on my hands and knees when he peed, and used one hand to trace the knife along my spine.  But when I got away from him and got to the phone in my neighbor’s apartment to call 911, I became a survivor.  Or at least I had the chance to be a survivor.  It took a while to actually morph into someone who wasn’t defined by what happened that day.  It took a lot of work.   When the parole reviews come up, I feel that ‘victim’ thing all over again, and that makes me feel like I’ve failed at surviving.  But in the end, he doesn’t define me.  He changed a LOT in my life that day, and in many ways my future was murdered.  At least the one I’d dreamed about.  But Carl Edward Chambers, career criminal, doesn’t. Define. Me.

I was able to have a good nursing career until 2004 (and very briefly in 2005) when I became permanently, physically disabled. Twenty years. Too short, but it still mattered.   That was what defined me.  It still does, even this many years after having to stop work.  I will always be an RN, and even though I’ll never use it again, I keep my license active.  I don’t want to say I was an RN.   I AM an RN.  I was raped, but I am a nurse.  I’m a daughter, cousin, niece, and friend.   I was never a wife, mother, or grandmother.   He took that.  But he didn’t take the things that really made my life mean something.  I was able to help people, and show some compassion.  I have been able to answer questions for family and friends who were facing medical challenges or terminal illnesses, and needed someone who they felt was a reliable resource during those chaotic and painful  times in their lives.  That is what defines me.  My mission has been, since the decision to go to nursing school, to be useful to others.  He didn’t change that.

I believe that things happen for a reason.   I also believe that I don’t always have to make sense of the reason… that God has it figured out.  But just maybe He allowed me to be raped because I won’t sit back and do nothing about his parole reviews. Maybe I can help keep someone else from knowing what this is like.  Maybe that is my purpose in this.  The rest is up to those who vote on numbnuts’ parole  status.   At least I know I did what I could.  Sometimes, that has to be enough, but I hope with all I am that his parole is denied.

Numbnuts Had Parole Denied

I got a bit of good news this morning. Actually, it’s a lot of good news. The man who raped me was denied parole by the Texas Board of Pardons and Paroles yesterday. The next parole review will be August 2015 and I’ll be notified about 4 months before that so I can send my stack of reasons why he shouldn’t be let loose on a civilized society (well those of us who are civilized anyway). Again. I can ask friends and family to send another bunch of their reasons to keeping Carl Edward Chambers locked up. The next mandatory release date is in 20 years. He got a 60 year sentence, and because of the laws at the time of his sentencing, he has these ‘mandatory’ release dates. Until then, he gets ‘reviewed’ every three years.  I just get back into a routine of not thinking about him roaming the streets, and that possibility comes into play again.  He had to serve the first 20 years without any chance of parole, but after that it’s been a roller coaster.

I was a very young 23 year old in 1987 when the rape happened. I didn’t have a clue about evil people- or about people who were so damaged that they committed crimes like Chambers did.  There was little doubt among the officers who investigated the rape that murder was the goal that day.  I knew who he was, where he lived, and that he’d been in prison (the naive part of me didn’t have a clue why he’d been in prison, or what ‘Huntsville’ Texas prison really was- a farm for the worst of the worst). With me dead, he would have had access to everything in my apartment and my car. He would have been long gone by the time I’d been noticed missing. I was still off of work from a back injury, so it could have been a week or more.  Probably when I started to stink up the place, bothering the neighbors.

I fight to keep him locked up because of what he did to me (other blog posts go into more detail, and there are more details to come, in due time). But I also feel he should serve as much as he agreed to when he plead guilty part way through the trial. He heard me testify, and whoops- time to change his plea from not guilty to guilty.  How often does that  happen?  Then he agreed to the equivalent of a life sentence, or 60 years (I wouldn’t accept less than that in the plea bargain, and was ready to let the judge have at it). To me that either shows that he’s incredibly stupid, or there’s a shred of conscience in there somewhere.  His sister (mom of the baby I took care of, and how I was introduced to the monster) even testified on the side of the prosecution; she had told me that he’d always been the ‘black sheep’ of the family.  I’m thinking more along the lines of black heart. Cold. Hard.  She was a sweet kid with a baby.  She knew nothing about what he was capable of; his prior offenses were violent, but not to the point of actually physically hurting someone. He tore me up.

And yet, there’s also part of me that wonders what in the world happened to him to make him the way he turned out.  That’s not in any way condoning what he did, or making him less responsible. But I do wonder. The other siblings weren’t felons (at least then; no clue now- but the sister I knew was a sweet kid struggling to make a life for her baby).  I’ve forgiven him- again, that doesn’t erase culpability. It just keeps my life from being all about him, and how to get even.  There is no way for him to give me that day back, or undo what he did to me.  It’s in God’s hands…He’s got MUCH more at His disposal for punishment than I do.  Frees up my head not to be mad all the time.  Did Chambers alter my life forever? Yep.  But he can’t do anything to take it back.  An apology would be nice, but I don’t think I’d ever trust that it was genuine, so why bother?

I do wish I’d been taught that I had the right not to help someone who seemed potentially harmful, or gave me knots in my stomach.  I didn’t feel that I had that right- I was taught to help my neighbors, and ‘neighbors’ meant everyone.  I wasn’t taught to think through what I knew about someone (no matter how minimal) and base a safe decision on that.  That was a very hard lesson to learn- and it didn’t have to be that way.  Christian parents and youth leaders need to be teaching their charges that it’s OK to stay safe; it’s not a sin to avoid being assaulted or murdered. They need to know how  to identify potentially harmful situations.  God gave us brains; they need to be used.

Well, now I’m off the hook for another 31 months, until I get the next letter telling me the next review is coming.  And I’ll cry, and relive parts of the rape that get shelved periodically.  I’ll talk to another lead voter on the parole board (this one was very kind; I can’t imagine having that job). But I’m never really ‘done’ with the rape, or Chambers.  I never forget.  I never had the life I thought I’d have (married, kids, house with a dog… I did get the dog).  I never let anybody touch me after that, and was a virgin before (my beliefs are that sex comes after the wedding).  My life became abnormal.  I don’t think I’ve been all that abnormal, but  I missed a lot.  As I get older, that sinks in more.

But I still believe that it happened for a reason. I don’t believe God ‘made’ it happen, but it can be used for good.  I’m still figuring all of that out (so I’m a bit slow).  If it can’t be used to help someone else, then it’s for nothing. I can’t allow that- so I still muddle around in my own head, searching for ways to be of use through this. Chambers can’t win this one.  I can’t let him. He took enough without my permission…this is on me.