Brothers Silenced

By Kathryn Jewel

On August 30, 1993, Roberta Moore drove to work; it was a cold, rainy morning. She had left her two sons and little daughter at home with her husband. He was supposed to make sure they got dressed in time to catch the school bus.
She had been on the job for only thirty minutes when she received a call at 7:45 a.m. Roberta was surprised to hear her husband's voice on the line. John Moore told his wife he couldn't find their sons. Robert, 13, and Benjamin (Ben), 10, were missing.

At 8:25 a.m. the dispatcher with the Price County Sheriff's Department answered a 911 call. Roberta said her husband had found their sons dead on a trail near their home.

Brothers Silenced unmasks the dysfunctional personal lives of this seemingly normal family. This shocking real life mystery proves truth is indeed stranger than fiction. Author Kathryn Jewel, spent over a year interviewing Roberta Moore and uncovering the many complex elements surrounding this case.
The ensuing finger pointing, inconsistencies, and religious obsession are explored in detail. Because of small town politics and petty jealousy within the sheriff's department, critical mistakes were made.

Fans of the true crime genre will be both challenged and baffled as they are led through this psychological maze. Brothers Silenced analyzes the twists and turns of how and why two innocent children were shot to death and left in the woods so close to their home.

• Language: English
• Publisher: iUniverse
• Release date: May 25, 2006
• ISBN: 9781469712048

Kathryn Jewel

Kathryn Jewel is a substance abuse counselor with a degree in psychology. She is a proud Texan living in a small town with her husband and cat. This southern charmer?s second book Ultimate Sacrifice will be released in 2007.

Book preview

Copyright © 2006 by Kathryn Jewel

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ISBN-13: 978-0-595-39492-0 (pbk)

ISBN-13: 978-1-4697-1204-8 (ebk)

ISBN-10: 0-595-39492-2 (pbk)

ISBN-10: 0-595-83889-8 (ebk)

Contents

AUTHOR’S NOTE

ACKNOWLEDGMENTS

MEMORIES OF ROBERT AND BEN

PROLOGUE

Chapter One

Chapter Two

Chapter Three

Chapter Four

Chapter Five

Chapter Six

Chapter Seven

Chapter Eight

Chapter Nine

Chapter Ten

Chapter Eleven

Chapter Twelve

Chapter Thirteen

Chapter Fourteen

Chapter Fifteen

Chapter Sixteen

Chapter Seventeen

Chapter Eighteen

Chapter Nineteen

Chapter Twenty

Chapter Twenty-One

Chapter Twenty-Two

Chapter Twenty-Three

Chapter Twenty-Four

Chapter Twenty-Five

Chapter Twenty-Six

Chapter Twenty-Seven

Chapter Twenty-Eight

EPILOGUE

AUTHOR’S NOTE

This is a work of nonfiction. The account you are about to read includes countless hours of interviews with family, friends, and acquaintances of the Moore brothers. To those of you who have lived through this heinous tragedy, thank you for your memories, insights, and knowledge of this case.

This book does not in any way, attempt to implicate or insinuate any particular person or persons were involved in, or responsible for, the deaths of Robert and Benjamin Moore. No one named has been found guilty of any wrongdoing relating to this incident.

The Jehovah’s Witnesses are discussed frequently throughout this book. I would like to go on record as saying, I do not believe this religion was in any way responsible for or connected to the deaths of the Moore boy’s. There is absolutely no evidence to support this preposterous theory.

My research materials also included police reports, and electronic and print media. I am especially grateful to the experts who bravely examined the evidence in this case, all these years later and weren’t afraid to expose the truth.

Much of Roberta Moore’s own words are used in the telling of this story as she related them to me, including the intimate and personal details of the Moore family. John Moore flatly refused to be interviewed for this book. Any negative conversations or threats attributed to him come directly from his ex-wife, Roberta. Therefore, it must be stated that except for the police reports and court records, his words are alleged.

Nothing in life can prepare a parent for the devastating consequences of the death of a child. The very idea goes against all human experience and reason. When this happens, the universe becomes ruled by chaos and the very laws of nature are interrupted. The loss of two children at the same time is unthinkable, the pain too immense to bear. Roberta and John were forced to face this distorted reality in 1993.

Writing this book affected me profoundly, at times almost to the point of obsession. I attempted to remain impartial in my narration of this true-life mystery. The more I investigated, the odder things appeared. A quote from Alice in Wonderland frequently came to mind, curiouser and curiouser.

The events in Brothers Silenced are real or as close to real as humanly possible. I attempted to relay the facts with honesty and fairness. Most names used in this book are real; some have been changed for privacy’s sake.

ACKNOWLEDGMENTS

First and foremost, I would like to thank my family for their support during the writing of Brothers Silenced. They endured countless hours of exasperated discussions, as I attempted to unravel this mystery. A special thank you goes to my first fans, my daughters, Tiffany and Kelly. These two lent their unyielding encouragement; assuring me when I doubted myself that this story needed to be told.

I am lucky enough to live with an expert computer technician. My husband, August, made sure I was able to get my manuscript from the keyboard to my publisher. He never complained even once when I shook him awake in the wee hours of the morning to repair my crashed computer. Brothers Silenced is as important to him as it is to me. He supplied constant and necessary assistance during this entire process. For this, I am truly grateful.

I would like to thank the few men of Price County brave enough to speak the truth. Michael Roberts, Richard (Dick) Heitkemper, and Neil Holm were fearless; they earned my deepest appreciation. District Attorney, Mark Fuhr, was an exceptionally nice man who was open to the possibility of any new truths being uncovered.

C.D. Flowers and Dr. Ed Friedlander are the heroes in this case. They were courageous enough to delve into the darkness and present the facts. Their expert opinions were both candid and professional.

Special Agent Christopherson from the Wisconsin Department of Justice, was the first person who truly listened to my story and believed the odd inaccuracies involved in this case. His optimism and genuine interest filled me with a renewed sense of hope. Even though his caseload was overflowing, he took the time to investigate this puzzling tragedy.

Some exceptionally good things occurred as a result of this book. I met several new friends who will continue in my life, long after the ink has dried on the last page of Brothers Silenced. I am proud and honored to call Sharon and Steve Meissner my friends. This couple fought for and won justice against all odds for their precious son, Gregg.

A special thanks goes to the award-winning author, Lois Duncan. She is a staunch crusader for all families who have lost loved ones in suspicious circumstances. Her daughter, Kaitlyn Arquette was murdered, and so far, no one has been prosecuted for this crime. Lois’ book, Who Killed My Daughter, is a testament to a mothers love and determination to find justice for her child. She is also the creator of the realcrimes website. This site presents unsolved cases and attempts to find answers for suffering family members.

Rochelle Parask and Patricia Knaack are wonderful women who were affected deeply by Robert and Ben’s deaths. Their heartfelt quest for the truth kept me going. It is not always easy to find women of honor who care so much about justice in a crime that happened so long ago. These ladies are awesome.

I want to personally thank the creator of the twistedbadge website, Mike Madigan. Mike’s whistleblower site exposes corrupt law enforcement officials misconduct. In fairness, it also promotes officers who bring honor to the badge. Mr. Madigan is a brave man and tireless seeker of honesty and equality.

MEMORIES OF ROBERT AND BEN

You both came screaming into the stark radiant light of this world

Two beautiful chubby boys with cherub faces and exploring fingers

Fate was kind; you were brothers by birth, best friends by choice

Reaching forth to discover the amazing wonders of this life

Joyous, gleeful laughter couldn’t be contained

Golden hair shining in the sunlight, round rosy cheeks, perfect smiles

Footsteps running freely, noisily, resoundingly down the stairs

Tumbling, roughhousing in the green fields with no cares or fears

Swimming, carelessly splashing in the safety of the backyard pond

Sharing jokes, candy, and life’s mysterious secrets

Long bike rides together down gravel roads, exploring the unknown

Unexpectedly, with no reason or explanation, evil cowardly sought you out

Without warning, Fate was cruel; reneging on its promise of long days ahead

Robert and Ben, time cannot erase your memory; your innocence remains

Emblazoned on our broken hearts forever.

Copyright©2006, Kathryn Jewel

In Loving Memory

of

Robert Lewis Moore

and

Benjamin James Moore

Robert: the oldest; quiet, loving, protective, sensitive, funny, comedian.

Benjamin: the little brother; friendly, loving, outgoing, playful, joker, innocent.

I never met you, but I know you.

You have permanently touched my life.

All your days were shared together

As you shall remain everlasting.

PROLOGUE

On August 30, 1993, residents of the small rural town of Ogema, Wisconsin awoke to an unusually chilly, rainy morning. Most people hated to see the weekend end; so, on that particular Monday everyone stayed snuggled cozily under their warm quilts until the last possible minute.

When the alarm clock jingled loudly the family living in the red farmhouse on Prentice Road started waking up to what they believed would be a typical day. The Moore household consisted of the father, mother, two brothers, and a little sister. The Moore brothers, Robert, 13, and Benjamin (Ben) 10, were like most boys their same age. They disliked being roused up so early in the mornings for school. The brothers usually rushed to get dressed for school; hoping there would be enough time to play a quick game of Nintendo before the bus screeched to a halt at the end of their driveway.

John Moore got out of bed before his wife Roberta; he wanted to make sure the furnace was working properly, the wood floors were ice cold on mornings like this. The first task the children normally performed in weather like this was to put on shoes and socks; otherwise, walking around barefooted was too uncomfortable.

Roberta tumbled out of bed around 6:45 a.m. and dressed quickly. Her mind was already thinking of the busy day that lay ahead. She reminded her husband to pin the nametag on little Lisa’s dress before she left for school. It was her fourth day of kindergarten.

Roberta walked downstairs into the kitchen for a quick cup of coffee. The phone rang as she took her first sip. Her sister, Mary, was calling to assure her that she and her family had made it safely back to Connecticut from the family reunion the previous weekend. The sisters talked for several minutes. When Roberta hung up, it was close to 7:10 a.m. and time to leave.

She opened up the umbrella and walked quickly to her dark blue Ford Ranger pick up truck. This morning she was optimistic about her vehicle starting. It had a tendency to act contrary on cold mornings. Thankfully, the engine roared to life right away.

As she drove out of the driveway and turned onto Spring Road, she noticed weaving tire tracks, and wondered who was driving drunk so early in the morning. Roberta’s short commute to work took fifteen minutes. She arrived at her dad’s house at 7:25 a.m. Cy Paul eagerly waited each morning for his daughter’s visit. She was his primary caregiver, employed by the county to attend to the elderly mans’ personal needs.

Roberta had been there for only twenty minutes when the phone began to ring. She answered, surprised to hear her husband’s voice on the other end. John told her he couldn’t find Robert and Ben; they were missing.

The woman was momentarily stunned, and could not comprehend what her husband was trying to tell her. What did he mean her sons were nowhere to be found? The boy’s always stayed close to home. It was time for them to go to school. She felt a nagging uneasiness, but assured John she would leave for home immediately.

That phone call would change Roberta’s life forever. It also cast a shadow of suspicion and doubt over the entire family for years to come. The inadequacies and mistakes in the small town sheriff’s department would come to light. Their failure to properly investigate this case and pursue justice for two innocent boys would leave the family and the entire community feeling hopeless. Unanswered questions surround this case, with no clear, truthful answers in sight.

Chapter One

The officers of the Price County Sheriff’s Department in the town of Phillips, Wisconsin were getting ready for what appeared to be another quiet uneventful day. A fresh pot of coffee had just finished brewing, the strong aroma wafted through the glass partition into the small waiting area. The local law enforcement headquarters is housed in an inconspicuous brown brick building that stands at 164 Cherry Street. Even though it was August 30th, the weather was unseasonably cool. The rainfall made the forty-five degree temperature seem even colder.

Mornings were slow anyway, so when Officer Ross Honsa answered the 911 emergency call he was expecting nothing out of the ordinary. Possibly a distracted driver had hit a deer trying to make it to the other side of the road. Instead what he heard on the other end of the line shocked him. As a 911 emergency operator, Officer Honsa had been trained to expect the worst. He was used to dealing with hysterical, out of control people in distress. Nothing had prepared him for this call.

Out of habit he looked at the clock and logged in 8:25 a.m. as he picked up the phone. At first he couldn’t quite comprehend what the lady was telling him. The stunned Officer listened intently. The woman on the other end of the line announced in a matter-of-fact tone that her name was Roberta Moore. The frightening words she spoke next would haunt the dispatcher years later.

My two sons were supposed to go to school this morning. But my husband John found them in an old car on the Rails-to-Trails snowmobile trail, about a quarter mile south of Spring Road. I believe they have shot themselves.

Before Mrs. Moore had finished her story, the officer’s adrenaline was pumping fast and furiously. His heart went out to this woman. No mother should ever have to make a phone call like this; it was almost too harsh to imagine. He assured the caller all emergency personnel were being dispatched immediately.

Deputy Michael Roberts had only been a law enforcement officer for the past four years. The young cop was well muscled, handsome, and blue-eyed with a quick smile and sharp wit. His usual assignments included responding to minor disturbances. Many times he referred fights between intoxicated husbands and wives. On other occasions he was called to direct traffic tie-ups; logging trucks often stalled on the highway blocking impatient motorists.

Luckily, so far, he had never encountered any serious problems he couldn’t handle in the line of duty. This was no surprise since Price County was not exactly the crime capitol of the state. This was small town America with small town problems.

The deputy was casually cruising down the highway in his squad car. His workday had started only an hour before. Suddenly he heard an excited message over the static of his radio. The dispatcher advised him to return to the office immediately.

He instantly turned the cruiser around and headed back toward town. As he drove he heard a page sent out to the Prentice Ambulance Service. They were advised of an emergency run to the town of Ogema. Roberts sped down the road sensing something major had occurred. In his wildest imagination he could never have envisioned what lay ahead.

The deputy walked quickly through the parking lot and entered the building through the side entrance. He was promptly met by Chief Deputy Tim Gould who announced ominously we may have a double homicide. Let’s go. The two men sprinted to Deputy Roberts’s car.

They sped down Hwy. 13 towards the town of Ogema with lights and siren blaring. The twenty-five-mile drive usually took twenty minutes. Today they reached the intersection of Spring Road and the Rails-to-Trails in record time arriving at 8:50 a.m.

Upon arrival the Officers saw, much to their dismay, the road was already crowded. One of the Prentice Ambulances was parked on the side of Spring Road along with several private vehicles. Roberts and Gould parked their car on the shoulder of the road near the entrance to the trail. They bounded out and quickly started walking into the path.

The Taylor-Price Rails-to-Trails, is also known as the Pine Line Trail. It stretches twenty-six miles long. The old railroad bed extends from the towns of Prentice to Medford. It is now solely a recreational trail used for bicycling, all terrain vehicles (ATV’s), and snowmobiling.

The long, smooth thoroughfare was surrounded on both sides by thick woods and tall, dense trees. Normally on a weekday at this time of morning the trail was desolate and eerily silent. Today it was crowded and the atmosphere was charged with foreboding doom.

When the men had hiked more than half a mile south on the path, they saw another Prentice Ambulance. Roberts observed several men walking around the vehicle with more following. He didn’t know what he was going to find, but an overwhelming panic was beginning to take hold. If this was a crime scene they were in trouble already. Too many people were swarming around carelessly. This could contaminate any pertinent evidence.

The two officers jogged up to the group of men, ten in all. Nine were familiar ambulance crewmembers and Emergency Medical Service workers. The tenth would remain unidentified, at least for the moment. The ambulance had backed all the way down the trail. In front of it was a small red Nissan pickup truck.

The truck belonged to Ronald VandenElzen. He was a large man, built like a professional wrestler, with glasses and fiery red hair. He was also a firefighter and first-responder. What he was mainly known for was being one of the most experienced EMT’s in Price County.

Directly in front of VandenElzen’s truck, only ten feet away sat a small white 1980 Mazda station wagon. The front of the car faced south. The back end of the Mazda was directly in front of VandenElzen’s front bumper. The old, rusty car had been spray painted with graffiti; and the rear hatchback was open.

As Deputy Roberts got closer to the stationwagon, he saw what appeared to be two bodies lying on the ground behind the car. At first the hideous display made the young Deputy stop. He took several deep breaths and whispered, My God, what happened?

He continued on, telling himself he had no choice no matter how unsavory the task at hand. Two blonde male juveniles lay face up. The smaller, younger looking child’s head faced west. The larger one faced the east.

The larger boy’s feet and lower legs were at least twelve inches underneath the back end of the car. The smaller males’ feet were almost touching the lower legs and feet of the larger boy. Both were barefoot. Their feet were scratched up, dirty, and covered with leaves. Their hands were in the same condition. The smaller child had a long rifle lying obscenely between his legs.

The youngest child had obvious trauma to the right side of his head. A small amount of blood dripped from his mouth. Both eyes were closed. This looked particularly out of place since his cheeks were still rosy. He was turning pale quickly right before the stunned audience.

His short sleeve, pink, tee-shirt was stained with blood on the front and back. His blue jeans were dirty and covered with droplets of blood. Officer Roberts was having an especially hard time dealing with the macabre sight. The little boy was so small and innocent looking. He looked to be around ten years old, the same age as his own son at home.

At first glance the older boy did not appear to have any outward signs of injury. The skin on the top of his left hand was torn and bleeding. His eyes and mouth were partially open. He was completely white; rigor mortis had already begun. His feet could not be seen because they were underneath the back of the old car. He was wearing a short sleeve, orange, tee-shirt. Blood soaked the back of his shirt. His blue jeans were well worn. They had no hems and were partially rolled-up.

Chief Deputy Gould instructed Officer Roberts to direct everyone in the area away from the scene. They were sent back to back to Spring Road. The officers then asked first responder VandenElzen to tell them exactly what had transpired. They listened intensely as he described his detailed actions.

He explained that he had heard the emergency call for help via the radio in his truck. He was only about ten minutes away from the Rails-to-Trails, so he immediately raced to the scene. As he came upon the trail and started to drive in he came upon Neil Holm’s waling towards the scene. Neil was a good friend and fellow first responder.

His buddy jumped into the bed of his pickup. They drove the rest of the way together. The two men slowed down when they spotted the station wagon sitting strangely still. They parked behind the station wagon and called out to see if anyone would answer. They waited several minutes before approaching because the gun was lying with the boys.

The men received no response. As they observed the scene it became apparent they were in no danger from the two boys. VandenElzen and Holm’s walked slowly up to the two people lying on the ground. Neither man could believe the ghastly sight before them. When the truth took hold, their blood ran cold. They were looking at mere children.

The shaken men walked closer to the smaller boy first. The trauma was clearly visible to his head. They did not touch him.

At first glance, no apparent signs of injuries could be seen on the larger boy. He was very white, still VandenElzen attempted to take a carotid pulse using his fingers. He was unable to feel one. He ran back to his truck, got a stethoscope, and checked the boy for a heartbeat. There was none. The first responders could not help these boy’s, it was much too late. The disheartened men returned to VandenElzen’s truck and waited.

A short time later, the Prentice Ambulance unit backed into the scene. The emergency personnel were updated on the situation by the first responders. At this time, Bill Draeger an EMT with the ambulance service felt

Reviews for Brothers Silenced

[kimmyd76 · Rating: 4 out of 5 stars]

A murder deemed a suicide. These two boys I believe did not kill themselves which is what most will know once they read this book. I hope one day justice will be served and that whoever is responsible for these deaths has not committed any other murders in the meantime.

[Rosie Friesen · Rating: 2 out of 5 stars]

The story has potential but oh my word! The grammatical, spelling and other errors render the book unreadable. I badly wanted to find out what happened, but I had to quit because it's too hard to follow while mentally rewriting everything so it makes sense. Please edit this book and then republish.

[Linda Jones · Rating: 4 out of 5 stars]

This entire book was a fascinating but sad insight into one mother's quest to find answers about her two boys' suicide and the possible motives .... truly heartbreaking and sad.