Isabella: a Pioneer Battered Wife

By Patricia Dalton-Graham

In the town of Garnett, Kansas, in the year of 1919, most of the townspeople viewed the Kings as an idyllic couple. They lived in a big house out at the edge of town and Andrew was reported to be a man of considerable wealth. They thought nothing was too good for Andrews wife Isabella. Or so they thought Many woman sighed as the handsome couple drove by in the latest motor car. What they didnt know, is that evil lurked in the mind and heart of Andrew Jackson King. They also didnt know that Isabella had been living a hellish nightmare for the 32 years of her marriage to Andrew. And the smile on her face as they drove through town covered up her thoughts and the pain of yet one more day of living in this nightmare.

Isabellas only goal in life was to protect her son and his family from the evils of Andrew Jackson King.

As it turned out she was not too far away protecting herself and her family with the fatal shooting of her husband on March 9, 1919. She was arrested on first degree murder and then spent the next two years on trial judged by an all male jury.

• Language: English
• Publisher: AuthorHouse
• Release date: Aug 25, 2011
• ISBN: 9781463418151

Patricia Dalton-Graham

Patricia Dalton-Graham is the great-granddaughter of Isabella. The lineage is Isabella, to Roscoe King, to Marjorie King-Dalton, then to Pat. Pat grew up with her great-grandmother in her life and visited her all the time during those early years in Garnett. Pat said, “Isabella use to give me beads, some loose and some strung together like in a rosary. I loved those colored beads and the two that I cared the most about were the amber and lavender beads that were necklaces. I wore those all through my life and still wear them today. I also have Isabella’s wedding ring from her marriage to Andrew. And several other rings, a small diamond ring, and a small ruby ring.” Pat went on to say, “I truly loved my great-grandmother and I never even suspected what she went through in beginning in March of 1919. Pat spent most of her adult years in Playa del Rey and El Segundo, California. Graduating from Saint Monica Catholic High School in Santa Monica, California. Then to Santa Monica City College, also in Santa Monica, California. Then on to UCLA with a major in Theatre Arts and a minor in Behavioral Science. She worked for Hughes Aircraft as a training specialist for eight years before going in with her mother in a medical answering service as the manager for 14 years. All during that time Pat spent thirty years as a Counselor then the Director of the South Bay Rape Crisis Center located in the South Bay area of Los Angeles County. She lectured all around Southern California on rape and battering with a lot of that time on talk radio and TV. In 1970 Pat married Rhodes (Dusty) Tucker Graham, Jr. who was a Sgt. with the El Segundo Police Department. Dusty has three children in which she helped raise. They are Scott Graham, Michael Graham, and Lori Graham-Sanders. In 1992 Pat and Dusty were divorced and soon after she came back to her roots in Garnett, Kansas. For 15 years she worked on researching and writing this book, Isabella: A Pioneer Battered Wife. She lives in Garnett, Kansas where she is writing another book on some of the true stories and some very dangerous experiences with rape victims, the police, and their rapists.

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© 2011 Patricia Dalton-Graham. All rights reserved.

No part of this book may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted by any means without the written permission of the author.

First published by AuthorHouse    8/22/2011

ISBN: 978-1-4634-1814-4 (sc)

ISBN: 978-1-4634-1815-1 (e)

ISBN: 978-1-4634-1816-8 (hc)

Library of Congress Control Number: 2011910016

Printed in the United States of America

Any people depicted in stock imagery provided by Thinkstock are models,

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Because of the dynamic nature of the Internet, any web addresses or links contained in this book may have changed since publication and may no longer be valid. The views expressed in this work are solely those of the author and do not necessarily reflect the views of the publisher, and the publisher hereby disclaims any responsibility for them.

Contents

Introduction

Acknowledgment

Prologue

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Chapter 6

Chapter 7

Chapter 8

Chapter 9

Chapter 10

Chapter 11

Chapter 12

Chapter 13

Chapter 14

Chapter 15

Chapter 16

Chapter 17

The Trial

Chapter 18

Chapter 19

Chapter 20

Chapter 21

Chapter 22

Chapter 23

Chapter 24

Chapter 25

Chapter 26

Chapter 27

Chapter 28

Chapter 29

Chapter 30

Chapter 31

Chapter 32

Chapter 33

Chapter 34

Chapter 35

Chapter 36

Chapter 37

Chapter 38

Chapter 39

Chapter 40

Chapter 41

Chapter 42

Chapter 43

Chapter 44

Epilogue

Research Acknowledgement for Isabella:

About the Author

Andrew and Isabella King - 1887 wedding.jpg

Andrew and Isabella King, married Dec. 30, 1887

DISCLAIMER

Real names are used for all the major characters in Isabella, A Pioneer Battered Wife. Isabella King is my maternal great-grandmother and I have portrayed her story of my personal knowledge and the research indicated for this historical novel. Any misinformation is purely unintentional.

This book is dedicated to my

Maternal grandmother

Marion Elizabeth Kirk-King,

The keeper of family secrets

I understand, Mummy King,

but you should have told us.

Introduction

IT WAS AUGUST OF 1991 WHEN I first learned that my great-grandmother, Isabella Wright-King, had been a battered wife and she had been charged with first degree murder for the killing of her husband, my great-grandfather, in the year of 1919. All through my growing up years I had never heard of this tragedy in my family. Neither did Isabella’s granddaughters, my mother, Marjorie, and her sisters, Cecile and Virginia. We also didn’t know that we had as much as 250 King relatives spread around Kansas and Oklahoma. Some just a few miles away.

It was my Aunt Virginia who discovered the big find when a distant cousin Earl J. Smith came to Garnett looking for King descendants. Earl and his wife, Veneta, were referred to Virginia who was just about the last of the Kings still living in Garnett. These so-called relatives told Virginia that they were compiling the King genealogy and would be grateful for any information she could give them on our branch of the family. Virginia was puzzled; who are these people claiming to be relatives? In the course of the conversation, Veneta made the statement; the family was split after your grandmother killed your grandfather… Virginia must have looked shocked, because Veneta started to change gears, and said, Didn’t you know? Virginia said, Well, no, are you sure you are talking about my grandmother, Isabella King? Virginia was stunned to say the least. She grew up with her grandmother and thought she knew her very well. This information just had to be a mistake. When Veneta saw how upset and shocked Virginia was she stuttered and said, Well, maybe I have the wrong branch of the family. I’m s-sorry that I mentioned it. Forget I even said it. Veneta had made a big faux pas. Very soon after that, they left, without getting much in the way of information about our branch of the family.

After the Smiths left, Virginia sat for the longest time thinking about this devastating information, and later that afternoon she went to the Library to check the microfilm on the town’s newspapers. Sure enough it was there for all to see. It read, A terrible Tragedy; A.J. King was Killed by a Shot in the Hands of His Wife. It was on the front page of The Garnett Review, dated March 13, 1919. She made copies and this was what she presented to me when I came back to Garnett to visit my mother a few weeks later. Mother had just moved back to her roots from Palos Verdes, California. I remember sitting on my mother’s sofa just looking at the article in disbelief, bewilderment, denial, and some intrigue. I just couldn’t believe what I was reading about my beloved great-grandmother whom I knew and loved during my early years. My cousin Kathleen (Cecile’s daughter) didn’t have a clue either. Kathy also knew our great-grandmother. A scandal like this in the King family? It was just not possible. We came from a prominent family dating back to the founding of the town in the mid 1850s. Why hadn’t this information been handed down to the next generations by the family? Or still, why didn’t the town talk about it? This was a small town in Anderson County Kansas that never got over 5,000 population. And people definitely talk in a small town. We heard a lot of other stuff, but not one word of this tragedy in 1919. Nothing about the killing of Great-grandfather Andrew or Isabella’s arrested on murder charges and her trials. All we hear about Andrew’s death was he had heart problems and died early. Oh yeah, heart problems is not far from the truth, he was shot in the heart.

It took me about a year to grasp the importance of what my great-grandmother went through. A battered wife charged with her husband’s murder. I just had to tell her story. It took about three years of research and then finally, Isabella: A Pioneer Battered Wife was born. As my Aunt Virginia said, Isabella’s plight was probably one of the first documented cases of a battered wife. The rest of the battered wives during that time period were probably thrown down a flight of stairs and buried forever…

Acknowledgment

Isabella: A Pioneer Battered Wife

ISABELLA WOULD NEVER HAVE BEEN WRITTEN IF not for all the help I received from family, friends, and specific professional people. It is only right that I mentioned their names with my complete gratitude for all their encouragement and assistance.

When I first realized like a bolt of lightening in October of 1992 that I just had to tell my great-grandmother’s story, I knew that I had to go back to my own roots for extensive research. So I began where I grew up and where Isabella also grew up, married, bore her son, the unthinkable abuse, the shooting, and the trials, where it all took place in Garnett, Kansas. Once I researched all the information and got the facts, the writing of her life would not be that difficult. Especially the abuse, since I have been a trained rape and battering counsel for over 30 years. I was wrong. It was one of the enlightening, yet emotional, nerve wracking, and painful time of my life. Perhaps due to the wonderful memories of my childhood and upbringing. I was not prepared to deal with this in my family. And the trials were another matter, so when it was time to begin writing the trials with mountains of original court files, I contacted my first cousin, Kathy King, (Isabella’s other great-granddaughter) who is an attorney, for advice. Her best advice and which I am eternally grateful, was, Just begin and write it and you will be surprised as to how well you’ll write given all your experience in the courtroom with the victims of abuse. How right she was. I plunged right in and found it was easier to write than the rest of the book. Thank you Kathy.

Kathy also gave me memories of her growing up with our great-grandmother, especially about the equestrian part of Isabella’s life. Both Kathy and her mother, Cecile, trained under the expertise of Isabella.

To the other members of my family, including my mother, Marjorie King-Dalton, and her sister, my Aunt Virginia King-Herman, encouraged me and became as intrigued as I was about their grandmother and my great-grandmother’s trauma in 1919. I must pay homage to my beloved Aunt Cecile Marie King-Powell. Cecile passed away in 1989 and unfortunately she was not around for this discovery about her grandmother, Isabella.

To my former husband, Rhodes (Dusty) Graham for his constant encouragement and belief in my talent as a writer. Dusty was extremely helpful with some technical advice on the trials since he spent 30 years as a police officer in El Segundo Police Department, in Los Angeles County.

To my parents Marjorie King and Deane Paul Dalton, thank you for giving me the Norman Rockwell childhood, right in Garnett. Neither parent abused me in any way, they were just the opposite, very loving and instructive in my life. My father died over 30 years ago and I still mourn his passing. He was truly the greatest father a daughter could every have. Thank you Daddy.

To my daughter, Lori Graham-Sanders, I owe so much. For without her pushing me and her assistance, Isabella might still be on the drawing board. I had some difficulty writing about my great-grandmother’s abusive life and Lori brought me back in perspective. Lori, thank you for bringing me back into focus and supporting me as to how important this story really is and that I had to keep writing. Lori’s husband Eldon Sanders, also was instrumental in the writing of Isabella by luring me away from my old IBM electric typewriter to a computer. Best thing I’ve every done. Thank you Eldon.

To my first cousin, Col. Robert Allen Dalton, US Army Rt. I owe a very special thanks for his research and information about the Civil War and his technical advice about the state of Kansas. Bob is a writer in his own right and an expert about the old west.

I also thank Laura Russell, Ph.D., a psychologist in Lawndale, California, who spent many hours on the phone and in person explaining the psychological aspects of my great-grandparents. Plus the possible reasons as to why we as their descendents do not suffer from the abuse that Andrew inflicted on his wife Isabella. Dr. Russell was a colleague of mine in the South Bay Rape Crisis Center. My love and many thanks Laura.

A special thanks to Sonia Wolff Levitin of Beverly Hills, California. I give my most eternal thanks. Sonia is an accomplished writer of children’s books and the author of one of my favorite books about rape, What they did to Miss Lily by Sonia Wolff, Harper & Row, 1981. Sonia was there for me in the beginning and gave me extremely valuable assistance and guidance during the writing of Isabella. Thank you Sonia, maybe some day I can pass that knowledge you gave me onto someone else.

To my cousin Beverly Dalton-North who came late into the game of the writing and publishing of Isabella, I thank you from the bottom of my heart, for without you Beverly, Isabella might never have been published. Thank you for always being there for me and listening to my tail of woes.

Last but not least to Isabella Wright-King, herself, I owe you my wonderful life, free of abuse. It is my belief that you were able to stop the behavior with your son Roscoe, my grandfather. You did it and only you can take the credit. Thank you great-grandmother. I know you helped me write this story of your life. I definitely felt your presence in overseeing my writing of your story. I am most grateful that you were there.

This book, Isabella: A Pioneer Battered Wife, will hopefully open up a little more, the widening path of knowledge on the battered wife/women, and the women who kill their batterers. When a woman ends up killing her batterer, it’s usually an act of a desperate woman who thinks she has no place to turn for help or survival. Batterers threatened to kill their women all the time, for that helps to keep their women in line. Total fear of their spouse. Sometimes it comes down to kill or be killed.

In my research for Isabella I discovered many old news articles, dating back to 1858, about wives being beaten by their husbands; some fell down a flight of stairs and died a week or months later. Some just disappeared, never to be seen again. Probably buried somewhere on the property. To the best of my research nothing was done to the husbands; they either married again, or moved on to another town. But they always got another wife. And the cycle repeats itself. One particular news article stated that a man had been taken to jail in the early year of 1879 for whipping his wife. Then he broke out of jail so he could go home and shoot his wife. The article stated that he is in jail again, this time awaiting trial for murder. This was the only article that the batterer actually had to pay for his crime against his wife. I wonder if anything ever happened to him since his defense was, She deserved it! The point here is that she’s gone. She’s dead. She had no safe place to go. It took killing her to stop her pain. No one has the right to hit or kill another human being. No one! No matter what one thinks or knows what the victim did, or think they did. Abuse within a family is not a family problem. It’s society’s problem. We all must take a stand. Men who beat, batter, threatened to kill, and do kill their so-called loved ones, are stupid, ignorant, uneducated human beings. Standing up to a batterer is grounds for killing – or so the batterer thinks. They think they are real men. And real men can’t lose face no matter what.

In those early years up through my great-grandmother’s time, there was no support and no place for a battered woman to go for help. Survival is the upmost, even though a battered woman thinks she’s going to die, and then wants to die after being severely beaten and hurt by her so called loving husband. When a killing of the batterer does take place, it usually is an accident of a harassed and desperate woman. As in Isabella’s case all she wanted to do was stop the abuse and if she pointed a gun at her husband, he would stop. She was not knowledgeable enough to realize that all she was doing was to enrage him more. Isabella was swept off her feet by a tall good looking charming young man. She had no idea and no background of what was to come. Andrew gave her a life from hell.

I wrote this book for several reasons, first to tell my great-grandmother’s story to the world, to document what happened to her all those years ago, and for women everywhere that are in a battering situation, that there is hope. But mostly I wrote this book for Isabella herself, to tell her story in hopes that one person could be saved by her strength and courage when all else seemed to fail. .

Prologue

March 9, 1919 - Garnett, Kansas

ON THE CRISP EARLY SUNDAY MORNING, ISABELLA stood over the almost lifeless body of her husband of thirty-two years. Dazed as to what just happened, Isabella’s light gray eyes were riveted to the blood that was slowly oozing all over the front of his white shirt. It was the brightest red she had ever seen; a ruby red, like the gemstone, seeping slowly from the bullet wound. With the gun shot still reverberating in her head, the once audible clock now soundlessly ticking away as her beloved’s life faded away. For a few brief moments, Andrew’s dark brown eyes locked with hers, his eyes searching in total disbelief… Barely audible he mouths some words as Isabella watched in horror as the last bit of Andrew’s life slipped away from her forever. Then he was gone. As if a photograph was taken, Andrew’s pleading and now dead eyes were caught with hers forever, frozen in time…burning for all eternity in her mind. Isabella, with the gun still in her right hand, slowly slid towards the floor as everything went into a silent void of blackness.

When you’re gone I won’t forget you…

Chapter 1

1902

ISABELLA! ISABELLA! YOU COME BACK HERE!

Isabella King was racing up the stairs towards the bedroom, with her husband Andrew close on her heels in a rage. He was screaming her name and demanding that she stop.

Isabella, come back here, I’m not through with you yet!

She proceeded to climb up the stairs, now on all fours, as she felt him catch the hem of her dress, trying to pull her back for more of his beatings. Her vision was cloudy from her tears that were flowing from her beautiful gray eyes, and sobs were coming from her mouth, and her heart beating so fast that she could feel it in her head. She was propelled by fear and felt Andrew’s hand at the hem of her dress, she started kicking at his hand, while she was almost prone clawing up the stairs. He was pulling her back towards him. He pulled her far enough that her foot landed in the most vulnerable place on his body, his groin. When she kicked him, he fell back while releasing his hold on her.

Bitch, now you have done it, I’ll kill you for this! Clutching his manhood, he screamed like a wounded animal.

Isabella was only grateful that she was free from his clutches, and finally got up from being caught at the top of the stairs. She ran into the bedroom, closing the door in one quick movement, her shaky hands grabbed the door knob, and with her other hand she turned the skeleton key in the lock, shutting Andrew out of the bedroom. But, she knew he was right behind her and that she was in for more abuse because she had defended herself against this monster of a husband. Turning her back to the door and leaning against it, she now allowed the tears to flow at a rapid rate, streaming down her face as she began to cry with loud sobs coming out so fast that she almost lost her breath. She slid down the door, with her arms wrapped around her middle, and finally ended up sitting with her back to the door and with her knees up against her chest. She rested her forehead on the tops of her knees moving her arms to hug her legs together as if she was rolled up in a tight impenetrable ball, crying from the very foundation of her soul with her broken heart shattering into a million pieces.

The door to the bedroom was thick oak, but she could still hear Andrew’s booming and angry voice. Isabella suddenly jumped up from her temporary sanctuary and turned to see that Andrew was breaking down the door.

"Open up this door, now! Isabella, I said