My name is Theresa Jackson. I now reside New York.
I used to be a loving wife, mother and responsible working woman. That description of me as an entirety died on Monday
Afternoon, March 24th,1986. That was the afternoon I came home and discovered my beautiful, precious, 17 year old daughter
Tina Mancini, had put my 357 Magnum in her mouth and pulled the trigger.
Tina was seventeen years old. She was built like a thoroughbred stallion. Nine years of gymnastics gave her a very well
defined body. All five foot three inches of her was deeply tanned and muscular, but not grossly defined muscles. Her cute
heart shaped face was a cross between Sally Field and Valerie Bertinelli. Her full, fluffy, medium length bleached blonde
hair made her big brown eyes outstanding. They had so much expression.
Her entire persona was expression. When she walked, there was expression. She didn't just walk.... she strutted and
bounced at the same time. Her every move and every look had purpose.
Even in Tina's look of sadness or anger, there was purpose. If you knew Tina, and she was looking at you, and she was
quiet... you would suddenly experience anxiety. You would immediately start wondering what the devil she was up to.
If you knew Tina... you never knew a dull moment. Tina was totally unconventional. Tina did not conform to society.
But Tina was adorable, cute, and very witty. She was a prankster beyond belief.
A dare was a challenge. She never let one dare go by her. Tina's entire life was a challenge. If there was no challenge
in a day, she created one.
Tina was also extremely talented. She sang and wrote songs. The lyrics to many of her songs expressed how deep Tina
was. They showed her individualism as well as her unrequited love.
Even Tina's talent was a challenge. She wanted to be rich and famous while she was still young. It was this last challenge
that Shattered her dreams as well as mine, and the dreams of her brothers.
At the time of our tragedy, all our dreams were running a muck, My ex-husband, Allan Jackson, had left us in mid November,
1985. That was six months before Tina's suicide.
In December of that year I turned 39 years old.
I was single for the first time in my life and I was having an identity crisis. Jesus, you'd think if my kids didn't
understand what I was going through, they would at least let me go through the Damn Crisis in peace!
But Noooooo! Chip... my 15 year old tall, good looking blonde, blue eyed son with a gorgeous head of hair any woman would
give her eye teeth for, shaved his head. He didn't just s 'have his head... he left a patch wide enough and long enough to
be called a "Spiked Seven Inch Mohawk." He did shaved his head and quit school all in the same day.
At the same exact time Chip jumped into his identity crisis, Rico, my 20 year son fell into his. Rico, was incredibly
handsome, dark haired, blue eyed and also exceptionally talented. Rico fell in love for the first time. His girlfriend was
a dark haired, dark eyed 17 year old beauty from El Salvador.
Raquel couldn't have come from a finer family. All her brothers and sisters were very good looking. Her mother was just
as beautiful. Raquel had long, thick, wavy blue black hair and eyes as black as coals. Her skin was as white as snow. She
was very petite, and I loved her the moment I met her.
I knew were in for trouble right from-the start. Raquel's father still lived in El Salvador. He had relocated his family
to Coral Springs Florida for their safety. Her father was a political big wig and I knew he would never approve of this match.
Rico had just quit another job, so he was now an unemployed lead guitarist... future Rock Musician. I definitely knew
Rico would never be the ideal son-in-law.
But wait... my crisis was not complete yet. It was Tina's turn to make my day. New Years day Tina told me her goal was
to do her "thing" now. This year she was going to do everything she could do to start her band and pursue her singing
A week later she came home with the answer to all her money problems. Tina decided she was going to be a topless dancer
and she would do it whether I approved of it or not.
She said she did not want to leave home, but she would if I would not help her. She stressed the fact that she could
not depend on any of her friends to take her to and from work.
Tina did not drive a car. With that threat, Tina convinced me she would be safer with me driving her to and from work.
Tina did not do drugs or drink alcohol. She only wanted to dance, make alot of money and save for her future. And so she
But her new profession, though it was only meant to be temporary, was the beginning of our problems. Six weeks later,
Tina's brainstorm back-fired.
After she committed suicide, I could not reveal the contributing circumstances that led to Tina's suicide.
The horror and the shock of her death, coupled with being charged with Procuring Sexual Performances By A Child (Forcing
Tina to dance) and Child Abuse was incomprehensible to me. I knew I didn't force her to dance. Everyone that knew us knew
After Tina died, my father Charles F. Gouveia, along with
my 20 year old son Rico went to the Coral Springs Police with a fabricated story saying I forced Tina to dance.
My father bullied the Coral Springs Police into pressing charges against me. I asked Rico shortly after I was arrested
why he went to the police with my father? Rico admitted he was angry with me and so distraught over losing Tina that he was
in shock. He said he was in a daze, (I could relate to that) and he had so many personal problems.
He said and did everything his grandfather told him to do and say. However, it was too late once the police had his story.
He didn't know how to tell the police his grandfather had taken advantage of him while he was in shock and during one of the
weakest moments of his life.
To make matters worse, Tina's best friend Christina Junchniewicz backed up my fathers story. Christina was angry with
me because she wanted to dance and work with Tina and make alot of money just like Tina.
Two days before Tina died, Christina and Tina were making plans for Christina to go to and from work with us. Tina and
I argued fiercely about it.
I refused to be a part of Christina's scheme to dance behind her mothers back. I put my foot down. I said, "No
What followed after that was what I could not tell in court. I could not tell about the blackmail and what it led to.
I discovered I am called a survivor. Some people are amazed that I survived the entire ordeal. At first I thought I
would die just from the grief of losing my only daughter.
To add to my emotional devastation, my two sons were living
with friends at the time of Tina's suicide, so I felt I had lost them too.
My x-husband came back the night Tina died to help me. His coming back did not impress me one way or the other. He was
always there before, for 9 years, so in my numbness of grief he was supposed to be there.
I thought I could trust him. I was so out-of-it, I had forgotten the past and why we had separated. I was trying desperately
to handle the delusions of insanity that was knocking at the doors of my mind.
I took me a while to realize that all survivors go through that, but to me at the time, it was very real and frightening.
I knew I could not go back into my apartment. My heart would sink and I couldn't catch my breath at the mere thought
of it. That thought would instantly bring back the odor of gunpowder, as well as the smell of death.
I thought to myself, "How am I ever going to get through this?" I hurt all over. It hurt to breath and it hurt
to think. I hurt even-more than I thought was humanly possible when I tried to go to sleep.
It was daylight when I did finally fall asleep. I don't think I even got two hours sleep. When I awoke I was startled
to find myself in a strange place.
This certainly wasn't my apartment. Where were the kids? Where were our things? Where were the sounds, the smells,
the familiar aura every household has?
You are not even aware this aura exists until it is gone. I am sure there are other people that understand this sense
of loss. Perhaps people that have lost their homes and loved ones to the tragedy of a fire or flood or any kind of sudden
disaster that relocates them from their home.
I was totally disoriented. Slowly it began to register. This was my mother-in-laws house. Why? When reality started
to creep into my mind, I tried to reject it. No! This is just a dream... a nightmare. I thought soon I'll wake up.
I walked into the bathroom. I looked into the mirror. My medium length curly red hair looked like a wild lions mane.
Staring back at me were big, dark brown raccoon eyes. So much for water proof, smudge proof eye make-up. I turned and walked
away from the sight of me.
I spotted a coffeepot at the end of the kitchen counter. It had coffee in it and I poured some. The television set was
just two steps away so I turned it on. There was a commercial on and there was a little girl smiling and talking in a tiny
voice just like Tina's.
Within a split second an awful painful gush of a cry exploded in my throat. It came up so suddenly from an enormous pit
of pain somewhere down inside of me. It was so quick, I know I never had a thought on my mind.
It just happened so suddenly. These gut wrenching cries happened on and off all day. As the day wore on, it became
worse when memories caused it. I tried so many times to shut them out, but I was never quick enough at it. The explosion
of pain and anguish would erupt over and over again.
I kept trying to convince myself that I just spent the night at my mother-in-laws house and when Allan comes back from
work we'll go home. I was in and out of reality all day.
When Allan did come home, I was out of reality. Allan came in and sat down at his moms table where I was sitting. He
looked so weary. He was only five foot seven inches tall, but his sturdy, well built frame gave him a strong, powerful appearance.
Tonight though, Allan looked beat. His medium long, light brown hair was greasy looking and disheveled. His tiny green
eyes had lost their sparkle. I shuddered when I looked into them. This was not the man I knew and loved. This man was so
All the same... He was all I had and he was there for me. I felt so lost. I tried to tell him I was trapped in a nightmare
and I couldn't wake up. I tried to tell him what was happening in this nightmare.
I said, "It's still happening." Allan had a blank expression on his face. He reached out his shaking hand and
took mine. I said to him very softly, " You're back again in this dream now, so can you help me get out of it?"
I told him "I need to wake up. Tina wouldn't shoot herself. The boys are gone and you're here and it's just all
I remember my nails digging into his hand and I could feel how callused they were. He was a plumber and had working mans'
I said, "Please help me!." I wasn't crying and I wasn't too upset, because I just knew I was right and Allan
would tell me how to wake up.
Instead his face was ashen, which made his mustache look fake, his lips were tight and his hands were cold and trembling.
I saw tears swelling in his eyes.
Allans' tears spoke the words he was unable to speak. The terror hit me again, only worse than it did during the day.
Last night, I refused to believe it happened at all. I merely went through the motions. I remember telling my best friend
Marsha Moore, "I know this hasn't really happened, but I'll answer the questions for the police anyway."
But I believe sometimes I didn't. I don't remember much of the things I said to Rico or Chip. I feel as if bits and
pieces of that afternoon and evening are missing forever.
Allans' tears pierced my soul with an indescribable pain. The anxiety churning inside me was engulfing my mind. My first
questions were, "Oh my God, Chip, Rico...." Allan said they were staying with friends and they'd be OK.
I knew they needed me and I couldn't get to them. More thinking... more pain. That's all I knew for days was thinking
I felt so venerable. My home and my children were gone. I would never have them again. Out of my grief grew anger.
Anger at God for "letting" this happen to us. We had a beautiful family.
How dare he take it away just like that! What did we do to deserve this? What did I do to deserve this? We were good
Christians. We believed in Jesus and we prayed to God. What more could I have done?
I ascertained Suicide does strange things to people. It makes people often accuse the survivor of having neglected the
one who died. They will accuse the survivor of not being attentive enough to have recognized the "signs."
Why did they allow the suicide to happen? They must not have cared! It took me five agonizing years to discover I am
not the only one that has been through the accusations.
Only one accused of the above? No! The only one ever Prosecuted for another's suicide, Yes!
It must be human nature that people must find someone to put the blame of suicide on. Spouses are generally seen as responsible
for their mates suicide. The survivor sometimes finds it difficult to remarry because of this stigma.
Many religions believe the act of suicide is the ultimate sin and the sinner is unredeemable. They will not enter the
kingdom of heaven. Dealing with suicide is painful enough, but I believe the loss of a child is the-most painful to bear.
And then to even imagine she will never enter the kingdom of Heaven... I am full of unspeakable anguish!
The fact that so many people in their grief blame me for my daughters death makes my burden totally unbearable. After
Tina's death, people made me paranoid about-missing the "signs."
They say most suicide victims send out signals saying "I need help." Did I miss them? Did I ignore them? They
were right under my nose, but I thought that was just Tina and her "Flippant Phrases" she had been saying all of
her life. In short I was prosecuted for ignoring her "signs" too.
My guilt was overwhelming. How could I have ignored the "signs?" She sent out signals didn't she? Sure she
did. Hindsight is 20-20.
At the age of nine or ten years old, Tina started to change drastically. She wanted out of her gifted classes at school.
She became obsessed with the desire to be rich and famous.
Tina also fell in love with Tony Cortese. Tony was one of the cutest boys in her school. He wasn't very tall, and he
was rather on the slim side. He had really cool long sandy blonde hair. He was the lead guitarist for his band called Leway.
Music was Tina's life. Tony was Tina's life.
Tina was always saying, "If I can't be rich and famous - I'll just die!" She'd say, "I don't want to be
rich and famous without Tony."
In the beginning it was so cute to hear her tiny, high pitched bubbly voice filled with such enthusiasm. After a few
years, we just started yessing her to death. With all the will and determination Tina had, I had no doubts in my mind she
would some day be rich and famous.
I even had the same high expectations for Rico. Tina's older brother was a lead guitarist just like Tony. I figured someday
her crush on Tony would fade away. Wrong!
When Tina was 13 years old, she tried unsuccessfully to commit suicide by taking every pill in the house. The only "signs"
I saw or heard were, when she'd say, "I love Tony so much. I'm going to kill myself if he doesn't start liking me."
Sometimes she'd say, "If I can't be in Tony's band I'm going to kill myself." I thought it was just a stage. I
missed the "signs."
But Tina was sharp and on the ball. She was always one step ahead of us all. Tina convinced us and the doctors she took
the pills because the kids at school were spreading gossip about her.
She said she wanted to leave Coral Springs, Fl. where we resided for 15 years and go to Hollywood California where her
real father lived. Tina had never seen her real father, Bob Mancini before.
Rico had convinced her Bob had connections in show business. Tina was now more than ever still obsessed with the desire
to be a Rock Star.
After all this came to light, I asked her why she didn't just ask me, if going to California meant that much to her?
She said she knew I'd say no. Several weeks later Tina was on a plane to Hollywood California. I let her have her way once
again. I had to let her go.
Ironically it didn't work out between Tina-and her father. Less than a year later Tina came home. Her first words to
me were, "Now I know why you divorced Bob!" She said, "I will not call him my father. He is my grandmothers'
I had never belittled her real father in all the years we were divorced. Now, Tina was angry that the Prince she envisioned
her father to be was really a Male Chauvinistic Pig. Tina never referred to Bob as her father again. I noticed this disappointment
embittered her to her very core. She was rapidly losing her faith in men.
During December of 1985, roughly two months after Allan my 3rd x-husband left us, more "signs" were visible
but they didn't sink in. To all of us that knew Tina well, Tina's phrases of "I'll just die if..." or I'll kill
myself if..." were her every day "Flippant Phrases."
Sometime in December of 1985, Tina started saying, "I can't get enough money to start my own band working minimum
wage and less than 20 hours a week. I'll just die if I can't make some real money to get my band started." She also
said so many times, "I need to do this now! I want to be rich and famous while I'm still young!" And she was still
saying, "I don't want to be rich and famous without Tony!"
"Signs,Flippant Phrases," which is which? Do you know how many times people say they want to kill themselves
or someone else? How many times have you heard or said yourself, "I'm going to kill myself if this doesn't work?"
Mothers claim, "I'm going to kill myself if I can't get away from these kids!" Have you ever said, "I'm going
to kill him if he isn't home on time?"
Do you realize those very words can be used against you in a Court of Law?
Our society has become exceptionally casual in their way of expressing various emotions. Such off hand use of suicide
and death submerges the anguish of it. Until you are touched by the reality of the loss of a precious life that means the
world to you, the words are almost meaningless.
Those of us that have been touched by suicide are the walking wounded. We struggle to live silently with our own tragedy.
We experience emotion and pain when someone carelessly uses words referring to death or suicide.
Sometimes the harmless discussion of knives or guns or references to hanging or poison silently rubs salt into our wounds.
You don't know us when you see us because we have learned not to let our emotions show. We have learned not to cry in
public. I learned that lesson real quick. All too often people react to us with pity, revulsion, or condemnation. Twenty years
later, I am still very good at hiding it.
Once you lose a person close to you to suicide you become acutely aware of the "signs" of distress. Exactly
one week after Tina died, Christina admitted to me that she and Tina had signed a suicide pact in blood. She said they promised,
if one committed suicide the other would follow.
When Christina told me what she and Tina had done, it was as if she branded my soul with a hot branding iron. To me this
was a "sign." I just couldn't ignore the "signs" again.
But, I had to keep my mouth shut. If I told the entire truth about Christina and her blackmail attempt, and God forbid
if Christina followed Tina's act of suicide, that would be my fault too. I was sure I would have been held accountable for
another child's suicide.
Am I making this up? Not on your life! Christina admitted the suicide pact existed to a reporter from Sassy Magazine.
The reporters name is Catherine Gysin. It is in print on page 48 of the May 1988 issue. Every time I read the story and the
lies about my family, and me it makes me livid.
Worse than that, the "signs" I saw, Christina and her death wish, was still being flashed.
After I saw it in print, I started asking myself, "Why is everyone ignoring it?" I wondered what Christina's
mother did to make her want to commit suicide? Why isn't her ass being dragged through Child Welfare Services?
I had to remain silent because I was afraid of losing another child. She was now an 18-year-old young lady, but still
a child that I watched grow up since she was 5 years old.
I made the decision not to tell the truth from the heart of a mother, not the mind of a person looking for someone to
hold culpable for such a tragedy.
I knew Christina was feeling all the things I was feeling. I could just imagine the grief, the anger, the guilt, the
depression, the hostility, the terror, the venerability and the exhaustion she was going through. That is more than enough
for any adult to go through let alone a grieving best friend.
I was teetering on the edge, was she? I also knew Christina had been seeing a psychiatrist for quite sometime before Tina's
death. I was told Christina also had attempted suicide. Since everyone else chose to ignore the "signs," I figured
it really didn't matter if I kept my mouth shut.
January 10th, 1990, I was incarcerated to serve part of my sentence, which was 364 days. I had never been in jail prior
to Tina's suicide before. I just knew I would never survive jail.
I was in there twice before, for a few days each time while I was awaiting bail after I lost my Trial after Tina's suicide.
Jail was a hellhole! I knew I'd never make it out alive. I wanted my loved ones and close friends to know the truth. All
the things I couldn't tell in court, I put down on paper. They always knew a piece of the puzzle was missing. They didn't
know I had that piece.
Everyone that read my "confession of Omission" now knew what had been eating me up inside. After they read it,
I caught some flack. Some people were disappointed in me, yet said they understood.
I asked every one of them, "If you were in my shoes, would you have taken the chance on losing another child?"
Funny, most of the men said yes they would have taken the chance, and all of the women said No! What is the reason for such
a difference in perspectives? Maternal Instinct?
I have survived the double shock of suicide and being prosecuted and convicted for being responsible for my daughters
suicide. My sons bear this stigma, but they know I am innocent. If I were truly guilty of such a horrendous crime, I too would
have committed suicide a long time ago.
At one point during my Trial I almost did. I found it very difficult to listen to Dr. Douglas Jacob, a Harvard Psychiatrist
tell the jury he knew what Tina was thinking when she pulled the trigger. This is called a "Psychological Autopsy."
Dr. Jacob obtained his insight by doing a "Mail Order" Psychological Autopsy from Massachusetts.
Dr. Jacob, who lives in Massachusetts was provided only with depositions taken from hostile witnesses. He was not provided
with any of the favorable depositions. These were mailed to him from the Prosecuting State Attorneys Office.
He was also provided with Tina's school records, some doctor's records and all police records. However, Dr. Jacob never
personally interviewed friends, teachers, doctors, neighbors, relatives, or other members of our family. Dr. Jacob's never
met or interviewed my children, my husband or me, ever! He also never saw or went over Tina&'s diaries, letters and song
poems. I had them all.
All these things I mentioned are the most significant parts of a Psychological Autopsy. The doctor doing the Psychological
Autopsy must know all these things that make up the suicide victims life. None of this was done.
What he did was nothing short of giving testimony and findings of an incomplete DNA Profile. It should have never been
allowed to be introduced into evidence or heard by the jury. He did an INCOMPLETE PSYCHOLOGICAL AUTOPSY!
So the Impressive Harvard Psychiatrist did not do all theses things mentioned. He made his judgment and came to his conclusions
using only the damning evidence provided to him by the State and he concluded I was guilty because the State said I was!
He admitted this while on the witness stand during my Trial. He actually used those exact last words... "he believed
me to be guilty because the State said I was!"
Interestingly, it was brought to the jury's attention that one deposition in my favor, given by my youngest son Chip,
was accidentally mailed to him. The good doctor said he threw Chip's deposition out because it did not coincide with the
others. Yes! This too was said by him on the stand to the jury. The jury ignored it!
This doctors Expert Testimony and conclusions he came to, using only damaging evidence provided to him by the State, convinced
the jury I was a bad mother and I was the cause of a horrible family life that caused my daughter to commit suicide.
This man, Dr. Douglas Jacob, took away everything good I ever did in my lifetime by saying I was a horrible person and
mother based only on the damaging information the State Attorney, Kathleen Kearney, told him about me. Which, by the way was
Instead of fond memories of our past, because of this man, I still to this day, in 2007, have gut wrenching crying jags.
You have to realize my face and my daughter's face was on front pages of Newspapers all over the world for almost two years
prior to my trial and for over three weeks every day of my trial! This is a trauma I shall never get over. I still cringe
when someone takes a picture around me and there is a flash.
The lies and bull shit were read by millions and millions of people, including the President of the United States. I have
news articles from Africa & Australia. They are really and truly from all over the world. For years after my ordeal, strangers
would say, "you look so familiar."
Thank God I have gotten fat and ugly now. I never hear it anymore!
The News media coverage was Global. My sons and myself have been on the Geraldo Show twice, the Donahue Show, and countless
major news programs like A current Affair and Lary King Show, Good Morning America, etc. We even did several Radio Talk shows
about my case and parental responsibility.
I had producers from Coast to Coast want to make Major Motion Picture about my story! Not the true story... Noooo... they
wanted the spicy lies and bull shit story. They wanted the Notorious Momma Story. They offered "big bucks," in the
six figure range. I told them "Over my dead body!"
As of June, 2007, I have not sold my Literary or Movie Rights to anyone. I have not written any books, made a Major Motion
Picture or Movie of the Week yet. Nothing has been done based on the facts from me except a few short stories like this one
on the Internet. If there are any movies (I heard of one) they are done on hear-say or from Public Records, which are 90%
Over 20 years have gone by now. I believe this is a long enough grieving period, as well as grace period, that should
prove to the news media, as well as the State and other skeptics, that I never was trying to gain monetarily from my family's
As if in a feeding frenzy, the Press and Television Media continually publicly accused me of trying to profit and collect
"blood money" right after Tina's death, throughout my trial and even after my conviction.
To add insult to injury, the State of Florida paid Dr. Douglas Jacob over$12,000.00 for his Mail Order Psychological Autopsy,
plane fare, hotel food and transportation, which they expect me to reimburse them for. This is of course a humiliating rip-off.
According to Florida's version of the Son of Sam Law, I am expected to pay them $36,000.000 for my trial, incarceration,
and probation. This I have personally promised to do anyway, when I finally come forth with my "accounting of the true
facts" surrounding my families tragedy.
To make matters worse, my attorney at the time thought I was more valuable to him if I was found guilty first and then
won my appeal. He told me, my family and friends many times, if I lost, it would be better for the Book and the Movie. We
had no idea what the hell he was talking about.
I was in shock for so long prior to my Trial, that I did not comprehend any talk about Books and Movies! My family and
close friends were all in such a state of shock, we would look at each other and say "oh, OK." That seemed to be
the extent of our vocabulary throughout the whole ordeal. "Oh OK!"
It was very difficult to listen to the Dr. Jacob's routine of lies and bullshit hypothesis's. Then I also had to watch
my X attorney, Kenneth Whitman sitting in his chair with his nose stuck up in the air and his pursed lips all puckered up,
constantly running his hands over his "perfect hair." He was so busy primping and posing for the cameras, he allowed
outright lies to be told on the stand!
He never objected once to the lies. I tried so many times to get him to objected and could have proven the lies to be
falsehoods or hearsay.
Well he did once object to my father lying on the stand but the judge let it go.
Mr. Whitman also surprised us all as he reiterated to the jury and the whole friggin world that I was a crazy person...
as crazy as my daughter. Then he proceeded to tell them about a bizzare lifestyle we lived which was nothing but lies that
he made up as he went along.
This is the God's honest truth.
I provided so much evidence to my attorney that proved I did not take all my daughters money and live off my daughter's
I gave him over $6,000.00 in receipts that Tina kept in a shoe box, for almost all the things my daughter spent money
on in less than 3 months.
She bought so many things for herself, her friends and for her brothers. She actually spent more than $6,000.00, because
some receipts accidentally got thrown away. She also had over $3,000.00 in the Bank and $2,100, which the State confiscated
from her purse when she died.
Mr. Whitman deliberately did not present this evidence to the court in my defense. He chose to let the jury believe what
the State told them, that took all my daughters money and I lived off my daughter's earnings.
The jury was told by State Attorney, Kathleen Kearney I took all her money and made her dance to support me. Because
of Ken Whitman withholding evidence, the jury believed her accusations to be fact, since there was no mention of where Tina's
thousands of dollars went.
It is supposed to be against some kind of law for an Attorney to with hold evidence, isn't there?
If I could account for over $11,000.00, just how much money did they think a girl could make in less than three months
"dancing?" Dancing Legally I might add. Think about that? Can the average person make over $11,000.00 in less than
3 months? Legally? My attorney got away with withholding evidence.
It got better. There was more evidence. I provided to my X Attorney Kenneth B. Whitman. I gave him Tina's letters from
California she mailed to me, that was supposed to be used to prove my daughters love and devotion to me. He took her words
out of context and used them against us.
Tina wrote a couple of times in her letters to me while she was living in California with her "Real Father&"
and about her beliefs in the "spirit world." She also wrote over and over, how much she missed her brothers and
me and wanted to come home.
My attorney said he needed the letters to show to the jury how much she loved us and wanted to come home. He proceeded
to read to the jury only the parts where Tina mentioned "Hauntings" and "Spirits." Then he told the jury
that Tina and I were both crazy and not responsible for our actions. Instead of defending me, he actually helps the States
Prosecutor win her case.
It was as if the two were in cahoots with each other. I had to sit there and watch my own Attorney portray a lifestyle
that did not exist. It was truly unbelievable, but the jury, the reporters and the news media believed it.
Whenever we would question something Mr. Whitman did that was not correct and what he should have done, he would pucker
up, purse his lips and hiss out, "I told you not to question anything I am doing!" He said that a lot! He puckered
a lot too!
Interestingly enough, Kathleen Kearney, the States Prosecutor, earned her Judgeship by winning my Nationally Publicized
Case. The news media repeatedly claimed she was being groomed for a Political career.
Several years later, after receiving her Judgeship as her reward for wrongfully prosecuting me, she was appointed as Secretary
of Children and Family Services by Florida Gov. Jeb Bush, our President's brother. This made her Privy to the Governors Mansion.
I do believe there is a God, because several years after her appointment, it was made public that over 500 missing children
in Broward County Florida had not been located and were still missing. Several News Reporters took it upon themself to try
and locate just one of the children. They were successful in locating nine children in a matter of days. Boy did the shit
hit the fan!
Around November 14th, 2002, when the fact that there were 500 plus missing children under her care became highly and Nationally
publicized along with the Sun Sentenial reporters success, she quickly resigned. However, instead of resigning in shame, she
cleverly resigned with a glorified last statement to the press, "LET ME BE REMEMBERED FOR ALL THE GOOD I HAVE DONE!"
That stunt left everyone beneath her, all the "little people" to take the brunt of the blame. People got fired
left and right and some jailed! But not "the Little Darling of the Florida Governor and Broward County's Courthouse!"
I am sure some day she will come back to her Politics boasting, "REMEMBER ALL THE GOOD I DID!"
I sat through the entire three weeks of my Trial with a frozen look of horror and disbelief on my face which the jury
and my peers mistook for not having any remorse. I also watched my own attorney hand me over to the State on a silver platter.
Really and truly, I was in shock by the things that man, my very own Attorney, said about my family and me. The true story
is now so bizarre that it is stranger than fiction.
The sequence of events as they unfolded after my trial, made my life unbearable. My trial ended October 31st, 1987. I
fired my first attorney, Kenneth B. Whitman on Friday, November 13th, 1987.
On Dec. 13th, 1989 my new Criminal Attorney, Richard Lubin of West Palm Beach, lost my Appeal. I don't blame him. How
could he undo all the damage Kenneth Whitman, State Attorney Kathleen Kearney and the News Media had done?
You never have a second chance at first impression. Mr. Lubin was given 20 minutes before the Fourth District Court of
Appeals to argue my case. He argued the Psychological Autopsy issue. He didn't stand a chance!
I was told that other Attorney's commented that he should have argued Ineffective Assistance of Council and Conflict of
Interest, since Kenneth Whitman had monetary gain if I was found guilty. After all, no one would be interested in a story
of a woman found innocent.
Whitman had me assign 100 % of all my Book and Movie Rights to him, which is in violation of the Florida Bar Association.
Whitman got away with it.
Appeals are very seldom successful. I found out the hard way that not only is Perjury acceptable but there is no punishment
for Perjury. A Court of Law is not always the place where there is Truth and Justice for all!
That expression, "The Pen Is Mightier Than The Sword" weighs heavily upon my soul. I believe the Pen, the Book
is the only way lies can be exposed and truth can be told. However, that justice for this writer, is only within my heart.
On October 7th, 2000, my 80 year old father, Charles Gouveia, the person that initiated my arrest after my precious daughter
committed suicide, was brutally murdered by his live in girlfriend, 38 year old Donna Buchanan, in his Modest home in North
Andrews Gardens, in Fort Lauderdale, Florida. She viciously stabbed him over 55 times. My son Rico, the grandson he manipulated
could only say, "you live by the sword, you die by the sword."
Donna Buchanan was incarcerated at Broward County Jail for over two years after my father's brutal murder. There never
was a trial. Two and one half years later, Donna took a plea bargain and got 15 years with time served for the two and one
half years. Life is cheap in the end.
February 27th, 2004, I sat at a computer in a bedroom in my son Chip's apartment editing this story. My home I owned with
my significant other of 9 yrs was burned down Nov 30th, 2003. It was totally gutted and a total loss. An arsonist set the
fire less than one half hour after I left one evening to out to diner with a dear friend.
I lost my beautiful precious Cockatoo Princess in the fire and almost everything I owned and worked so hard for and collected
along the way for over 30 years in the blaze that took over 40 firefighters from three counties to put out.
I spent 20 years working my tail off and trying to put myself back together. I put this Short Story, a Teenage Suicide
Script and the beginning of a book on the back burner while I tried to create a happy home for my X significant other and
myself. I guess it wasn't meant to be.
I am still working but in New York now. I ask myself, is this God's way of slapping me in the face and telling me, I
have to finish everything I should have completed before I tried to get on with my life?
The Book and or Teen Suicide Script, if turned into a movie might save just one life. The full length Book has many messages
for the "normal People" who think, "that can never happen to me."
Well, for some of you, a different version of getting screwed over by the system that was put into effect to protect us...
will get some of you.
I can't be the only one that had down right lairs on the witness stand and an Attorney and a State Attorney that was out
for fame and fortune for themselves at my expense.
I hope that if a few people have the opportunity to read about my heartaches and experiences I might get through to some,
and you will believe that, "yes," this or something similar can happen to you, and your whole world as you know
it will cease to exist and you can never get it back.
I hope and pray that no one else will be persecuted for something they did not do.
UPDATE on Kathlene Kearney:
Published Friday, December 12, 2003
Ex-DCF Secretary Loses Law License
Former Department of Children & Families Secretary Kathleen Kearney had her law license suspended Thursday after failing
to answer a bar complaint filed during her divorce proceedings.
The Supreme Court suspended Kearney's license for 91 days after she failed to respond to a complaint filed over her behavior
during divorce proceedings in May 2002.
The bar sent her a copy of the complaint three times from July 17 to Sept. 13, 2002, and received no response. During
that time, Kearney resigned her position at DCF as it underwent scrutiny for the disappearance of Rilya Wilson, a 5-year-old
Miami foster child who was missing for at least 15 months before the department noticed. The girl was never found.
|THE VERDICT! GUILTY!
|HANDCUFFED & TAKEN AWAY
I WOULD GLADLY DIE FOR YOU TO BRING YOU BACK!
If there is LIFE AFTER DEATH,,, I will LOOK for you HARDER And FIND you SOONER!
If Suicide is a SIN, I will FIND you in the DARKNESS and I WON'T GO TO HEAVEN WITHOUT YOU!