Kathy E <[EMAIL PROTECTED]> writes:
This is the confession David Graham gave to the police concerning the
murder of Adrianne, I do think I had sent this when we were covering
Zamora's trial, but for those who didn't see it, here it is for your
info, one thing should be noted, Graham was very helpful when giving
this confession to the police, even typing it up for them.
================
It was November 4th, and I was giving a friend a ride home late one
night after returning from a cross-country meet in Lubbock, Texas.
Adrianne surprised me by asking me to take some turns that I knew were
out of the way. After being directed onto a dark path behind an old
elementary school, I parked the car. The events that followed are not
pleasing for me to relate, as they go completely against the moral
background I have grown to appreciate. They were sexual activities,
short-lived and hardly appreciated.
I did willingly concede to the girl in these actions, but I knew they
were wrong. Never before had I participated in anything so meaningless
and painful. Painful, that is, because I was letting down the one person
I had swore to be faithful to. These actions were immediately regretted.
In an attempt to make them right, I confessed to my good friend Joseph
hours later. I simply asked for him to listen, then forget. If anyone
tells Diane, I said, it will be me.
The month that followed was one of guilt and shame. I was always being
told by Diane that our relationship was perfect and pure. The love we
shared would never be broken, no one would never come between us. No
one, that is, except that one girl that had stolen from us our purity. I
could never hold anything from Diane, nor she from me. She knew in my
eyes that something was wrong the moment I decided to confess. When I
did tell her, I thought the very life in her had been torn away. She was
angry, she was violent, and she was broken.
For at least an hour she screamed sobs that I wouldn't have thought
possible. It wasn't just jealousy. For Diane, she had been betrayed,
deceived, and forgotten all in that one meaningless instant in November.
The purity which she held so dear had been tainted in that one unclean
act. Diane had always held her virginity as one of her highest virtues.
When we agreed to be married, she finally let her guard down long enough
for our teen-age hormones to kick in. When this precious relationship we
had was damaged by my thoughtless actions, the only thing that could
satisfy her womanly vengeance was the life of the one that had, for an
instant, taken her place.
Diane's parents had similar problems in their relationship. She knew her
father had often cheated on her mother. Diane didn't want Adrianne to be
the same woman for me that her father had in his affair. The request of
Adrianne's life was, not for a second, taken lightly by me. I couldn't
even believe she would ask that of me. Well, Diane's beautiful eyes have
always played the strings of my heart effortlessly. I couldn't imagine
life without her; not for a second did I want to lose her. I didn't have
any harsh feelings for Adrianne, but no one could stand between me and
Diane. I was totally in love with her and always will be.
I regret it now, for never did I imagine the heartache it would cause my
school, my friends, Adrianne's family, or even my community. I guess I
just shut it all out of my mind that instant when I convinced myself
that Diane was even worth murder. After Diane gave me the ultimatum, I
thought long and hard about how to carry out the crime. I was stupid,
but I was in love.
The plan was to call Adrianne and convince her to come out to my car;
that worked. The plan was to drive her out near Joe Pool Lake; that
worked. The plan was to (and this was not easy for me to confess) break
her young neck and sink her to the bottom of the lake with the weights
that ended up being hit into her head; that didn't work. Diane was
hidden in the back of the car. It was late, about 0030 hours (12:30 am)
on the morning of December 4th, 1995. I realized too late that all those
quick, painless snaps seen in the movies were just your usual Hollywood
stunts. The quick and painless crime turned into something that
basically scared the [expletive] out of Diane and I. We realized
that it was either her or us, and Diane struck her in the back of the
head with one of the weights while I held her.
I could see in Diane's eyes that she was confused and scared. She was
first acting out of passionate rage, but now she was fighting from
instinct. Adrianne somehow crawled through the window and, to our
horror, ran off. I was panicky and just grabbed the Makarov 9mm to
follow. To our relief (at the time) she was too injured from the head
wounds to go far. She ran into a nearby field and collapsed. I wanted to
just jump in and drive off. We were both shaken and even surprised by
the nature of our actions. Neither Diane nor myself were ever violent
people. In that short instant, I knew I couldn't leave the key witness
to our crime alive. I just pointed and shot.
I was very confused and scared; I probably looked like the proverbial
headless chicken running around the crime scene. I fired again and ran
to the car. Diane and I drove off. The first things out of our mouths
were, "I love you," followed by Diane's "We shouldn't have done that,
David." Well, nice time to tell me I just wanted it to be a dream. We
took the quickest route to I-20, where we decided to head to a
well-trusted friend's home. John Green did exactly as I suspected:
allowed us through his window (the usual entrance place to his room),
allowed us to clean up and collect our wits, and even loaned me a pair
of shorts. My clothing had blood stains on them, and we disposed of them
in a dumpster near Diane's house.
We then went back to Diane's house, where we cleaned out the car and
went to sleep by the fire. The next day, we returned the weights to my
house. Diane was in shock. I was just scared. Neither one of us knew
why, anymore, we had just done that. The following days at school were
so mentally tough, they make my summer at the Air Force Academy look
like a walk in the park. Never had I even imagined so much guilt. They
announced it on the intercom, my friends talked about it in the halls,
everywhere I turned, someone was crying or just staring in shock for
reasons I alone was the cause of.
I saw Adrianne's mother in the grocery stores; I read articles of how
her family was coping in the papers. One thing, in particular, has
haunted me constantly for the past eight months. I read a quote from
Linda Jones in which she said, "I hope that her killer is out there, and
he's just being eaten up with guilt." When I read that, I just wanted it
to all go away. I wanted to be able to drive Adrianne back home, to go
to sleep, and to wake up back on December 3, free to make my decisions
all over again.
Diane wanted to go back also. For weeks, her infatuation was with just
being able to go back before September 26, when she wrecked my truck and
injured her hand. She wanted to change that, and she wanted to keep me
from going to Lubbock. Diane was constantly depressed from the guilt.
She was also scared that I would be arrested. She used to worry herself
sick in school over me and have to call me as soon as school was out to
make sure I was OK. It didn't really matter, however, what any police or
detectives found. What happened was over. Adrianne was gone, I was
responsible, and it wasn't going away.
Signature
/s/
David C. Graham
September 6, 1996
--
Kathy E
"I can only please one person a day, today is NOT your day, and tomorrow
isn't looking too good for you either"
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