Murder in Hercules

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No this isn't a mythological tale of some made up murder, sadly this happened and is very real, I wrote this nearly two decades ago, for a creative writing class, the assignment to write about something that changed your life forever. I decided to write about the double Murder or two family friends... Disclaimer this is shared unedited but Brendan was twelve not thirteen... I have taken out the name of Brendan's Mother and Neal's widow for her privacy as well as their last name, again for privacy There are defining moments in our life, moments that come with lessons. Lessons we probably would rather not learn, but no one said everything in life is easy. I learned the lesson of just how hard life could be when I had gone out to the front porch on a chilly February morning to get the paper. Little did I know headlines that read something like “ Father and Son murdered in their home in Hercules CA, “( A small town nestled in the bay area ) would shatter my sense of serenity. Reading the article I learned that it was Neal and Brendan who were murdered. They were life long family friends, Neal had gone to high-school with my parents and was a good friends of my dad even back then. Neal was a man with a kind and caring heart, the kind of man who would hire a friend because he needed a job, not because Neal needed help. Brendan, his son, who was only thirteen at the time was the same boy I use to watch in amazement, when we would go visit, as at the age of two he was able to read and write simple words, recite his alphabet and hold conversations with the adults. I was ten when he was two and I was absolutely amazed at what Brendan knew. My heart was sick when I found out they had been murdered because Brendan had his whole life ahead of him, but someone took that from him. I felt even more sick when I discovered that just before Brendan was killed he had learned that he was going to be going to Hawaii the following summer with some of the brightest kids in the country, as part of a special honors program. Almost immediately speculations as to what happened to Neal and Brendan started getting out, and the gossiping began. Some said it had been a robbery gone bad, which didn’t make much sense because in a house full of valuables that reached in the tens of thousands of dollars only a VCR, Brendan’s backpack and two hundred dollars were missing. Right away robbery as a motive just didn’t click, to me, and to most everyone else I knew who were close to the Abernathy’s. Others said it was the mother that was involved in the murder of her husband and son, but I knew that could not be either. Her face radiated with love every time I saw her around her child, and she lost that glow when she came home from work to find the sickening sight of her husband and son slumped on the couch, their skulls shot open. I can not even begin to imaginethe pain she must have felt as she found them both dead, I would not even want to imagine that kind of pain. Pain that was only intensified when she heard the accusations against her. How anyone could believe she killed them or had someone kill them is beyond me. Some went so far as to say that Sue was involved in some kind of love triangle, that she had another boyfriend on the side and she was murdered Neal and Brendan to which is the reason why she had her husband and son murdered,but even if this was the case why would she have her son murdered? The son she wished she could take the place of, and why wouldn’t she just divorce Neal instead of have the man who fathered her only son murdered. It was said by some that the murder was actually committed by a kid, a kid, Brendan had tried to tutor, but the kid was apparently a known troublemaker, and was jealous of Brendan. He had apparently been with Brendan the day he was murdered, for a tutoring session, though that was never proved either. None of the theories were proved, and even seven years later a killer has not been caught, no one can agree on what happened, and no one has come forward. The funeral was held in Hercules, and my Mother and Father went down a few days after the murder for the funeral, a sad occasion in any circumstance, but even more so because Neal and Brendan had been murdered. The gunshot wounds had been so gruesome that they gave a closed casket service. Neal and Brendan had their Memorial service and were buried up here though, around Neal’s family, this town where he had gone to school was touched by this tragic event as well, and the services were packed. Sge walked around in a daze, sharing memories, trying to get over the death of her husband and only son. Her friends surrounded her, supporting her, knowing just as I do that She couldn’t have done it. The pain was so evident in her eyes, in her face, pain not guilt. The pain that could only be felt by someone who was going through what she was going through, pain I wish no one ever had to feel. I can remember looking at the sky as the Memorial began, dark gray, with drops of rain starting to fall first gentle rain and then as they began talking about them the rain got a little more heavy, and I can remembering thinking that God himself was crying over what happened to Neal and Brendan. The rain picked up even more as Neal’s Sister sang her rendition of Vince Gill’s “ Go Rest High On That Mountain. “ and the people started crying even harder, sobs that came from the depths of their souls. I observed taking it all in, while drying my own tears. As the song ended though the clouds lifted and the sky turned a magnificent blue, and all I could do is stare in sheer amazement at what God was doing. It was as if he was saying: “ Yes they are safe with me. “ And somehow I knew they were, and could rest comforted in that simple fact, but I could not help wondering about the safety of those left behind. With the killer still loose I wondered when and who they would strike next, and sometimes I still wonder. (C) Michelle R Kidwell March.o1.2004