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This is an ongoing story that is just sick to it's core. I would like an opinion of the Legal Beagle's in the crowd. Please bear with me and peruse both posts, thanks Guys 'n Gals.
Handel letters wield words like weapons
The day he killed his children, Jay Handel wrote three letters full of malicious anger toward his wife, painting himself as the victim
Adrienne Tanner The Province
Wednesday, September 24, 2003
CREDIT: Darren Stone, Special to The Province
Flowers and pictures are displayed at a memorial service for the six Handel children.
CAMPBELL RIVER -- The morning he strangled and shot his six children, Jay Handel wrote a bitter suicide note to his wife Sonya.
The words were intended to wound.
"Good Luck," it began. "Like I said, you're alone."
"Enjoy your road to sanity. Don't worry about the kids. They're safe from you."
He signed the note, "Best wishes and all my love. See you next lifetime. Jay."
Then he carefully wrapped it in tinfoil and plastic to protect it from the rain and tacked it to the fencepost at their Quatsino home on northern Vancouver Island, where it was sure to be found.
Jay Handel did not die, however. His suicide attempt failed.
Today he is standing trial for six counts of first-degree murder. While he admits to killing his children on March 11, 2002, the former logging truck driver has pleaded not guilty by reason of a mental disorder.
In court yesterday, Handel said he could not remember writing the note to Sonya, or two other letters he posted that morning after killing the children. And he grew testy when asked to speculate about their meaning.
He snapped at Derrill Prevett, the Crown prosecutor, when he suggested that Handel killed the children because he was refusing to capitulate to Sonya's demands for a divorce.
"Your perception of this as a contest gone awry is so depraved," Handel said.
But a 12-page letter he wrote to Dr. Marlene Smith, his family physician, carried the same self-pitying, vindictive tone as his note to his wife.
Prevett summed up the letter to Smith as a "condemnation of Sonya."
The letter accused his wife of being controlling, manipulative, mentally unstable and abusive toward the children, all allegations that Sonya denied in court and no one else suggested were true.
They were the words of a man so totally self-absorbed, he appeared convinced the sole motivation behind Sonya's request for a divorce was to destroy him.
Indeed, the anger Handel felt toward her was so blatant that even Dr. Stanley Semrau, the forensic psychiatrist appearing for the defence, made note of it.
In particular, Semrau said, bringing her to the scene to watch the house burn and then slitting his throat in front of her was a "very cruel act."
Judging by the letter to Smith, however, Handel saw himself as a victim.
"Marlene, I am a good man," he wrote. "Unfortunately, at this late date, I am also a failure . . . I was berated as being old, uninteresting and lacking vitality."
He then confessed he killed the children. "In my own poor twisted head, it seems like the right thing to do."
Handel wrote that his temper was "spawned by the need to declare my existence."
On the witness stand yesterday, he said he felt no shame over his actions. "God has not seen it necessary that I carry shame as my burden," he said.
"I am sorry my children are dead today," he said, as if someone else might have killed them.
After 13 hours of interviews with Handel, Semrau concluded that at the time of the killings, he was unbalanced by stress brought on by his marital and work problems.
The combination, said Semrau, "resulted in the development of a mental disorder with strong symptoms of depression and anxiety."
Ultimately, Jay came to see only one way out, to commit suicide and take his children with him, Semrau said.
His key motivator in killing the children was to "save them and put them in a better place," Semrau said.
The psychiatrist said he could state that opinion with a "moderate degree of certainty."
Like all such cases, this one is not clear-cut, he said.
There is no way to be absolutely certain of Jay's mental state at the time of the killings, Semrau said. "We do not have the psychiatric equivalent of the cockpit flight recorder."
[email protected]
------------------------------------------------------------
Following are letters written by Jay Handel to his wife Sonya, family friend Russell Lubrick and family doctor Marlene Smith in the hours before his six children were found dead and the family home ablaze:
-------------------------------------------------------------
Dear Sonya,
Good luck. Like I said, you're alone.
Remember that time you asked me if my threat of suicide was real and I told you no, that I love my children and life too much to consider such an action. I lied.
Enjoy your road to sanity. Don't worry about the kids, they're safe from you!!
Best wishes and all my love. See you next lifetime.
Jay.
-------------------------------------------------------------
An afterthought,
Russell, I still believe in my heart that what you told me is true. You should know that what I told you is also true.
It is essential that Sonya have one person think one thing while the rest of the community, even you, think that no such thing is happening. A year from now, look who is sitting beside you at dinner, unless of course you have run away.
I recommend that you do.
Regards. Jay.
-------------------------------------------------------------
Dear Marlene,
I apologize for this morbid missive, but it is necessary. When a man finally loses the golden treasure of his life, it can be a bewildering, though enlightening moment. No matter that it was short-lived.
In the first week of February, my wife told me that she no longer loved me and wanted to gain control of her own life. By the end of February, she had told her friends and people in our community that we were separated, getting a divorce and that I only came home on the weekends to see the children. It seems that this was "common knowledge" (on a limited scale) and I was the last to know.
It seems that my work schedule away from home, combined with my frustration at home giving vent to a rage so unpredictably was no longer wanted.
I have been living with a woman who has Borderline Personality Disorder. I may indeed have it myself, although from where I view the world, it is more a case of responding to this disorder for a long time that has enabled me to be mistaken.
It is a way of life that I do not recommend.
My wife has since and just before Christmas been reading the book I Hate You, Don't Leave Me by Dr. Jerold J. Kreisman. She got it from her sister, who has been properly diagnosed with the disorder and between the two of them and the book, my life has rapidly fallen apart. Perhaps it was a huge enough mess to begin with that only I notice the difference.
In order to acquire (sic) the divorce, my wife has made it clear that she doesn't love, hasn't loved me for years, is seeking new attention from another man, and can't abide working on our relationship any longer.
After our divorce, I will be expected home on weekends to be the father, husband and lover that I am.
After much discussion between Sonya and myself, we have worked on a lot of my problems (psyc) and hers as well. No solutions that we come to have brought about a change in Sonya's desires.
No attempts to reconcile have succeeded and none of my prayers have been answered.
Small wonder, since her prayers were answered to begin with. Sonya told me that she did not arrive at her conclusion easily, but it is irrevocable.
This is not the first time in my life that I have been emotionally devastated, but it certainly is the last. I could almost live under her conditions if it weren't for the infidelity and the lack of love. Dangling on such a string for the next year, let alone the rest of my life, is something that I simply cannot do.
It is impossible for me to have anymore of a "damned either way" life.
Sonya will no doubt be in psychiatric care after such a devastating event, with many stories of what happened when and why. All of my children show some signs of self-destructive behaviour.
Levi bites his own fingers hard enough to bruise them, Martial smashed himself and his siblings around regularly, even Lydia smashes her head against the wall.
Am I responsible. Yes.
Directly and indirectly, the fault is mine, but not mine alone. All of the behaviour attributed to me is correct.
Sonya is quite happy with the revelation of being a borderline. It's as though she has at last found a flag to wave. She swears she is sane and that all fault lies with me. I don't see it quite so clearly. The more I search my soul for when and how this happened, the less I understand the causes. A way of life became an illness. For Sonya, the cure is to be alone with me coming in on the weekends.
For me, the cure is the end of my life, without options. I cannot endure the forced conditions. The point seems only to brutalize me without ending up in prison. She does want to kill me. She has said that the paper way (divorce) is the most effective.
She's right of course.
The facade that Sonya presents is a very carefully crafted and maintained look of health and vigor. Try and get her to talk about being raped at the age of 14 by a high school classmate. Her rejection by her family from an early age. No father for the first three years of her life and a mother, who after three older sisters were reared, cared little and appreciated her less.
One of her prominent memories was of being told that she was her parents' last attempt to have a boy. Eric would have been his name. The one son that her parents did have died at birth (or shortly after.)
Look at her upper arms and see all of the tiny scars. Most likely, there will be some new cuts there when you see her. It is her self-destructive habit. She crossed her arms and with her middle finger nail, takes the skin off. She has been doing it since childhood.
Smashing her head on the wall is another one of her traits. Sometimes she'll smash her hand into her forehead repeatedly if she is more comfortable lying down.
Since her childhood she has become extremely proficient at allowing people to complete her answers with their own thoughts and attributing them to her.
She can diffuse questions, misdirect reasoning and numerous other ploys in order to remove attention from herself.
How was I to know that for 12 years, "It's OK, we're fine" meant "stay here, we need you." "I'll be OK in a few minutes" (when physically ill during pregnancies and flus) meant "get me to the hospital now!"
Marlene, I am a good man.
Unfortunately, at this late date, I realize that I am also a failure. I cannot bear to die knowing that my children will be in a living hell for the rest of their lives. They have died peacefully but they are nonetheless dead.
In my own poor twisted head, it seems like the right thing to do.
My wife is very wary. She can and will always wait to see what is expected of her before she says or does anything. She lays that behaviour at my feet, though it was already well developed when I first met her.
She insists on variety in order to appease boredom and maintain her interest and then begs for constancy.
With constancy, I was berated as being old, uninteresting and lacking vitality. My temper was spawned by the need to declare my existence. My berating her was an uncontrolled attempt at gaining the constancy that I live for and desire.
My frustration is a result of not being able to exist as I perceive myself to be. Now that I can, it is too little, too late.
Love is lost. Life becomes useless.
I even have doubts of the paternity of three of my children. Being told that Lydia and Russell Lubrick's daughter, Angela Marie, "look just like sisters" so many times in the last two years does have an effect.
Being told twice in the last month that she might have more children, a year and a half after my vasectomy, is a heart-stopper too.
That and a thousand other comments directed at making me think that she and Russell Lubrick are not only having an affair, but that she plans to pursue a relationship with him.
This is the fourth 'divorce' of my marriage with Sonya. I cannot endure it any longer.
It must be a monument to human tenacity that endurance has gone this far, but I cannot endure this for another moment.
I am so ashamed. Sonya wants to be alone. Now she is.
I am so sorry.
God has deserted me. Rightly so.
Jay Handel.
Quatsino, B.C.
© Copyright 2003 The Province
Handel letters wield words like weapons
The day he killed his children, Jay Handel wrote three letters full of malicious anger toward his wife, painting himself as the victim
Adrienne Tanner The Province
Wednesday, September 24, 2003
CREDIT: Darren Stone, Special to The Province
Flowers and pictures are displayed at a memorial service for the six Handel children.
CAMPBELL RIVER -- The morning he strangled and shot his six children, Jay Handel wrote a bitter suicide note to his wife Sonya.
The words were intended to wound.
"Good Luck," it began. "Like I said, you're alone."
"Enjoy your road to sanity. Don't worry about the kids. They're safe from you."
He signed the note, "Best wishes and all my love. See you next lifetime. Jay."
Then he carefully wrapped it in tinfoil and plastic to protect it from the rain and tacked it to the fencepost at their Quatsino home on northern Vancouver Island, where it was sure to be found.
Jay Handel did not die, however. His suicide attempt failed.
Today he is standing trial for six counts of first-degree murder. While he admits to killing his children on March 11, 2002, the former logging truck driver has pleaded not guilty by reason of a mental disorder.
In court yesterday, Handel said he could not remember writing the note to Sonya, or two other letters he posted that morning after killing the children. And he grew testy when asked to speculate about their meaning.
He snapped at Derrill Prevett, the Crown prosecutor, when he suggested that Handel killed the children because he was refusing to capitulate to Sonya's demands for a divorce.
"Your perception of this as a contest gone awry is so depraved," Handel said.
But a 12-page letter he wrote to Dr. Marlene Smith, his family physician, carried the same self-pitying, vindictive tone as his note to his wife.
Prevett summed up the letter to Smith as a "condemnation of Sonya."
The letter accused his wife of being controlling, manipulative, mentally unstable and abusive toward the children, all allegations that Sonya denied in court and no one else suggested were true.
They were the words of a man so totally self-absorbed, he appeared convinced the sole motivation behind Sonya's request for a divorce was to destroy him.
Indeed, the anger Handel felt toward her was so blatant that even Dr. Stanley Semrau, the forensic psychiatrist appearing for the defence, made note of it.
In particular, Semrau said, bringing her to the scene to watch the house burn and then slitting his throat in front of her was a "very cruel act."
Judging by the letter to Smith, however, Handel saw himself as a victim.
"Marlene, I am a good man," he wrote. "Unfortunately, at this late date, I am also a failure . . . I was berated as being old, uninteresting and lacking vitality."
He then confessed he killed the children. "In my own poor twisted head, it seems like the right thing to do."
Handel wrote that his temper was "spawned by the need to declare my existence."
On the witness stand yesterday, he said he felt no shame over his actions. "God has not seen it necessary that I carry shame as my burden," he said.
"I am sorry my children are dead today," he said, as if someone else might have killed them.
After 13 hours of interviews with Handel, Semrau concluded that at the time of the killings, he was unbalanced by stress brought on by his marital and work problems.
The combination, said Semrau, "resulted in the development of a mental disorder with strong symptoms of depression and anxiety."
Ultimately, Jay came to see only one way out, to commit suicide and take his children with him, Semrau said.
His key motivator in killing the children was to "save them and put them in a better place," Semrau said.
The psychiatrist said he could state that opinion with a "moderate degree of certainty."
Like all such cases, this one is not clear-cut, he said.
There is no way to be absolutely certain of Jay's mental state at the time of the killings, Semrau said. "We do not have the psychiatric equivalent of the cockpit flight recorder."
[email protected]
------------------------------------------------------------
Following are letters written by Jay Handel to his wife Sonya, family friend Russell Lubrick and family doctor Marlene Smith in the hours before his six children were found dead and the family home ablaze:
-------------------------------------------------------------
Dear Sonya,
Good luck. Like I said, you're alone.
Remember that time you asked me if my threat of suicide was real and I told you no, that I love my children and life too much to consider such an action. I lied.
Enjoy your road to sanity. Don't worry about the kids, they're safe from you!!
Best wishes and all my love. See you next lifetime.
Jay.
-------------------------------------------------------------
An afterthought,
Russell, I still believe in my heart that what you told me is true. You should know that what I told you is also true.
It is essential that Sonya have one person think one thing while the rest of the community, even you, think that no such thing is happening. A year from now, look who is sitting beside you at dinner, unless of course you have run away.
I recommend that you do.
Regards. Jay.
-------------------------------------------------------------
Dear Marlene,
I apologize for this morbid missive, but it is necessary. When a man finally loses the golden treasure of his life, it can be a bewildering, though enlightening moment. No matter that it was short-lived.
In the first week of February, my wife told me that she no longer loved me and wanted to gain control of her own life. By the end of February, she had told her friends and people in our community that we were separated, getting a divorce and that I only came home on the weekends to see the children. It seems that this was "common knowledge" (on a limited scale) and I was the last to know.
It seems that my work schedule away from home, combined with my frustration at home giving vent to a rage so unpredictably was no longer wanted.
I have been living with a woman who has Borderline Personality Disorder. I may indeed have it myself, although from where I view the world, it is more a case of responding to this disorder for a long time that has enabled me to be mistaken.
It is a way of life that I do not recommend.
My wife has since and just before Christmas been reading the book I Hate You, Don't Leave Me by Dr. Jerold J. Kreisman. She got it from her sister, who has been properly diagnosed with the disorder and between the two of them and the book, my life has rapidly fallen apart. Perhaps it was a huge enough mess to begin with that only I notice the difference.
In order to acquire (sic) the divorce, my wife has made it clear that she doesn't love, hasn't loved me for years, is seeking new attention from another man, and can't abide working on our relationship any longer.
After our divorce, I will be expected home on weekends to be the father, husband and lover that I am.
After much discussion between Sonya and myself, we have worked on a lot of my problems (psyc) and hers as well. No solutions that we come to have brought about a change in Sonya's desires.
No attempts to reconcile have succeeded and none of my prayers have been answered.
Small wonder, since her prayers were answered to begin with. Sonya told me that she did not arrive at her conclusion easily, but it is irrevocable.
This is not the first time in my life that I have been emotionally devastated, but it certainly is the last. I could almost live under her conditions if it weren't for the infidelity and the lack of love. Dangling on such a string for the next year, let alone the rest of my life, is something that I simply cannot do.
It is impossible for me to have anymore of a "damned either way" life.
Sonya will no doubt be in psychiatric care after such a devastating event, with many stories of what happened when and why. All of my children show some signs of self-destructive behaviour.
Levi bites his own fingers hard enough to bruise them, Martial smashed himself and his siblings around regularly, even Lydia smashes her head against the wall.
Am I responsible. Yes.
Directly and indirectly, the fault is mine, but not mine alone. All of the behaviour attributed to me is correct.
Sonya is quite happy with the revelation of being a borderline. It's as though she has at last found a flag to wave. She swears she is sane and that all fault lies with me. I don't see it quite so clearly. The more I search my soul for when and how this happened, the less I understand the causes. A way of life became an illness. For Sonya, the cure is to be alone with me coming in on the weekends.
For me, the cure is the end of my life, without options. I cannot endure the forced conditions. The point seems only to brutalize me without ending up in prison. She does want to kill me. She has said that the paper way (divorce) is the most effective.
She's right of course.
The facade that Sonya presents is a very carefully crafted and maintained look of health and vigor. Try and get her to talk about being raped at the age of 14 by a high school classmate. Her rejection by her family from an early age. No father for the first three years of her life and a mother, who after three older sisters were reared, cared little and appreciated her less.
One of her prominent memories was of being told that she was her parents' last attempt to have a boy. Eric would have been his name. The one son that her parents did have died at birth (or shortly after.)
Look at her upper arms and see all of the tiny scars. Most likely, there will be some new cuts there when you see her. It is her self-destructive habit. She crossed her arms and with her middle finger nail, takes the skin off. She has been doing it since childhood.
Smashing her head on the wall is another one of her traits. Sometimes she'll smash her hand into her forehead repeatedly if she is more comfortable lying down.
Since her childhood she has become extremely proficient at allowing people to complete her answers with their own thoughts and attributing them to her.
She can diffuse questions, misdirect reasoning and numerous other ploys in order to remove attention from herself.
How was I to know that for 12 years, "It's OK, we're fine" meant "stay here, we need you." "I'll be OK in a few minutes" (when physically ill during pregnancies and flus) meant "get me to the hospital now!"
Marlene, I am a good man.
Unfortunately, at this late date, I realize that I am also a failure. I cannot bear to die knowing that my children will be in a living hell for the rest of their lives. They have died peacefully but they are nonetheless dead.
In my own poor twisted head, it seems like the right thing to do.
My wife is very wary. She can and will always wait to see what is expected of her before she says or does anything. She lays that behaviour at my feet, though it was already well developed when I first met her.
She insists on variety in order to appease boredom and maintain her interest and then begs for constancy.
With constancy, I was berated as being old, uninteresting and lacking vitality. My temper was spawned by the need to declare my existence. My berating her was an uncontrolled attempt at gaining the constancy that I live for and desire.
My frustration is a result of not being able to exist as I perceive myself to be. Now that I can, it is too little, too late.
Love is lost. Life becomes useless.
I even have doubts of the paternity of three of my children. Being told that Lydia and Russell Lubrick's daughter, Angela Marie, "look just like sisters" so many times in the last two years does have an effect.
Being told twice in the last month that she might have more children, a year and a half after my vasectomy, is a heart-stopper too.
That and a thousand other comments directed at making me think that she and Russell Lubrick are not only having an affair, but that she plans to pursue a relationship with him.
This is the fourth 'divorce' of my marriage with Sonya. I cannot endure it any longer.
It must be a monument to human tenacity that endurance has gone this far, but I cannot endure this for another moment.
I am so ashamed. Sonya wants to be alone. Now she is.
I am so sorry.
God has deserted me. Rightly so.
Jay Handel.
Quatsino, B.C.
© Copyright 2003 The Province
(Me)
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