The grass was green, the sun was shining, and the commencement ceremony marked the end of one adventure and the beginning of another.
For Kayla Simmons, graduating from the University of Maine in 1997 was more than just receiving her master’s degree in psychology. It was the closing of one chapter of her life—and the exciting beginning of whatever came next. She had plans, of course. She would eventually return to Maine, find a job, and begin building the career she had worked so hard for.
But first, Kayla had another idea. Before settling into a career, she wanted to see America. She wanted to take a cross-country trip, to put some miles beneath her tires and experience the country beyond the familiar places she had always known. She had no idea where the road would take her, or that one small town in Iowa would change the course of her life forever.
She certainly wasn't looking for love.She was just looking for an adventure.
Kayla had made many friends during her college years, and she often found herself looking back fondly on the beginning of her first year at UMO. She had received a scholarship from Lincoln High School for being a straight-A student for four consecutive years. She had worked hard for her education, and she knew she had earned her place at college. Her interest in psychology, however, had begun long before she ever stepped into a college classroom.
It began with her Uncle Carson.
Carson was her father Richard's brother. When Kayla was a little girl, Uncle Carson was the kind of uncle children adored. He would take her fishing, bring her along for a boat ride, and bounce her on his knee when she was small. He was familiar, loving, and safe.
Then something changed.
Carson became mentally unstable and was eventually placed in a psychiatric facility after attempting to kill his wife and three children. The man Kayla remembered as her uncle seemed to disappear, replaced by someone no one in the family recognized.
His wife, Lura, was a beautiful woman. Their three boys—Ashton, 11, Michael, 8, and Thomas, only 5—were still children when Carson turned on them.
And to think they were all at my parents house to celebrate my 1993 high school graduation the day before, laughing, singing , playing crochet, and just being a happy family.
The story Kayla heard was almost impossible to believe.
Carson had a hammer in one hand and a kitchen knife in the other. He was screaming and yelling like a man possessed, striking out at anything that came into his path before he turned his anger to injure or kill his own family.
And the first thing he attacked was the fish tank. Apparently, he smashed it before turning his attention toward the people inside the house. The aquarium shattered, and what had been an ordinary household fish tank—filled with guppies, goldfish, and angelfish—became a menacing cascade of broken glass and water spilling across the floor. The crash echoed upstairs, and Lura, awoke from the crash, and had ventured downstairs to see what the ruckus was. At the bottom of the stairs, in the dim glimmer of a nightlight, she saw water and glass on the floor, and the sound of something growling, then a hushed mumbling. It was an odd sound, then a whooping sound, like an Indian on the warpath. Lura peeked around the edge of the staircase, and saw in the shadows, a man she did not recognize. It wasn't her husband, but a crazed animal, and he was running at her with great fury, and speed. Lura managed to turn and run upstairs, but not without Carson reaching her first, and slamming the hammer first on the back of Lura's ankle, completely demolishing the back of her foot, then came the knife in the other hand. Carson stabbed the backs of Lura's legs, leaving large wounds, but Lura managed to escape. Adrenaline had kicked in, and the pain was replaced with the mindset to protect her boys. She took her good foot, and kicked Carson several times in the face and chest, and managed to get away. She limped into her boys bedroom, and slammed the door shut, then pushed a large bureau against the wall with what strength she had. The gashes to her leg and mangled foot were horrendous, a mangle mess of tendons and muscle, and blood. Her ankle was hanging from her foot sideways. The boys were scared, and confused. Lura managed to get to a window, open it, and asked her oldest son Ashton to jump from the window and run for help. She prayed Ashton wouldn't get injured from the fall, but the hedges that lined the house were somewhat of a lifesaver. Lura was glad she didn't pull them all up, as the hedges she hated, soon became something she grew to respect. Ashton managed to reach a neighbors house to call for help. Carson was taken away, but was yelling and screaming in gibberish. He was determined to be mentally incompetent to stand trial for attempted murder, and was sent to Lewiston Psychiatric Hospital, where he has been for 4 years. Visits were limited, and guarded when they happened, as Uncle Carson's actions were erratic. I stopped visiting him two years after he was placed there, as my visit broke my heart, and my mind still couldn't understand what happened. His eyes became empty, like his soul had left him. MRI's and CT came back with no explanations for why he turned so suddenly and fiercely. His mind had disappeared into a darkness no one misunderstood.
For Kayla, the image never completely left her mind.
She could remember the uncle who had once taken her fishing and bounced her on his knee. And she could never quite reconcile that man with the one who had stood in his own home holding a hammer and a knife, threatening the lives of his wife and three sons.
That was where Kayla's fascination with psychology began. She wanted to understand what could happen inside a human mind to transform someone you loved into a person you no longer recognized.
What could make a good man become something so frightening? How could someone who you hugged just the day before, become someone you wanted to run away from, and never look back?
And perhaps most importantly, could anyone have seen the warning signs before it was too late?
Kayla headed out on July 8, 1997, exactly one month after graduating from UMO.
She had told her family about her plans to take a cross-country trip before returning to Maine and beginning her career. Her parents, Richard and Margaret Simmons, thought it was a wonderful way for their daughter to begin the next chapter of her life.
So, naturally, there had to be a party.
A “Have a Great Trip” party was held for Kayla, with family and friends gathering to celebrate her college graduation and the adventure that lay ahead. Since everyone knew she would be traveling for an extended period, her graduation and trip gifts came in the form of money and gift cards—things Kayla could actually use along the way.
By the time July 8 arrived, her Jeep Cherokee was packed.
Her cooler was filled with ice and food, her clothing was packed for both hot and cold days, and tucked among her belongings was one of her favorite possessions: an Icelandic wool sweater she had owned since she was a freshman in high school. She wasn't sure what the road would bring, but she was prepared for just about anything.
Or at least she thought she was.
Kayla's father had one more surprise for her.
Apparently, Richard had been working on a “project” in the backyard, although he had managed to keep it completely hidden beneath a huge green tarp.
When Richard called the family outside for the big reveal, Kayla followed, curious about what her father had been up to.
Then the tarp came off and Kayla's eyes immediately filled with tears.
Sitting there was a Coleman Americana Hatteras pop-up camper.
Her parents had thought about the reality of Kayla sleeping in her Jeep for weeks on end and decided that, while she was young and adventurous, they didn't want their daughter spending an entire cross-country trip folded into the back of a Cherokee, or paying for hotel stays that could become costly, so they had given her a home on wheels. The camper had everything she would need for the trip, andKayla didn't know what to say, the words simply wouldn't come.
But she didn't need to say them. The look on her face said everything.
Thank you, Mom and Dad.
Richard wasn't finished. “Come inside with me,” he told her.
Kayla followed her father into the house and into his office. Richard walked over to a large wooden cabinet and unlocked it. From inside, he carefully removed a beautiful wooden box. The box itself had a small lock. Richard handed it to Kayla along with a set of small keys.
She opened it.
Inside was a .38 caliber Smith & Wesson revolver.
Kayla stared at it.
Her father finally explained.
“This is something I bought back in the seventies, when I thought collecting guns was a thing. I've only shot it a few times, and I figured I'd never use it.”
He looked at his daughter.
“Now listen to me. This is for your protection while you're out there on the road. I want you to be safe. If you feel threatened, don't hesitate.”
Then Richard lowered his voice.
“And please, don't mention any of this to your mother. She'll have a conniption fit.”
Kayla couldn't help but smile.
She wasn't unfamiliar with guns. Throughout her life, she had gone to shooting ranges for turkey shoots with her father and learned to shoot at targets. She had even spent time in the backyard shooting cans and bottles off an old wooden fence.
But the .38 was different. It had never been the gun Richard brought out.
There had always been a rifle or a larger handgun. Never this particular revolver.
Now it belonged to her.
Kayla had no idea when she accepted that little wooden box what significance her father's gift would eventually have in her life.
She certainly couldn't have imagined that years down the road, the .38 Smith & Wesson would become far more important than either of them could have ever anticipated.
But for now, it was simply a gift from a father who wanted his daughter to be safe.
And Kayla was ready to go.
The road was waiting.