I mean, all murder cases are sad, but I just wrote up the story of Racine Lamour Taliaferro‘s disappearance and murder and boy am I depressed right now.
I mean, here’s a nice-looking young woman who obviously cared a lot about her appearance, with the makeup and jewelry and hair and everything, as evidenced by her Facebook page. And she winds up dating this dirt bag, a member of a whole CLUB of dirt bags with official dirt bag rules like “our girlfriends are our property,” and this was her whole downfall.
I’m sure that dirt bag had abused her many times before he murdered her; there must have been a lot of pain hiding behind that smile. I wonder if he gave her that scar on her arm.
Racine deserved so much better than to be that dirt bag’s, or anyone’s “property.” She deserved better than to die choking and coughing up blood before she was even out of her twenties.
At the very least she deserves a grave where the people who really loved her can visit. And she doesn’t even have that.
So Michael and a friend of ours and I visited the zoo yesterday and we were looking at the sea lions when someone behind me touched my arm and said my name. I turned around, confused, as both my companions were in front of me. A guy I didn’t recognize said, “I’m [name of a true crime blog I read.]”
This person, whose identity he’s pretty big about keeping secret, writes a crime blog I really admire. And he really admired my work too; in fact his blog was inspired by the Charley Project.
We knew each other but only slightly. Before yesterday I didn’t even know his real name or anything about his personal life. And then he randomly recognized me at the zoo.
He says he’s constantly studying people’s faces, by habit, cause you never know when you might run into a missing person. I’ve posted plenty of photos of myself on this blog.
The crazy thing is he doesn’t even live anywhere near my local area. But he just happened to visit my local zoo that day, on the same day I happened to visit it, and happened to recognize me. We were both gobsmacked.
It was quite a day.
This week’s featured missing person is Latrice Shay Armstead, a 38-year-old woman who disappeared from Memphis, Tennessee on July 28, 2012. A few days later, her car was found abandoned and burned in Clarksdale, Mississippi.
It seems likely that Armstead’s estranged husband was behind her disappearance. They were in the process of a divorce and she had a restraining order against him, but he was seen twice with her on the day she disappeared.
Per the NamUs case for James Charles Stanford, “James had told family members before he went missing that he wanted to move to Texas or California to join a convent.”
But James is male. And not even a little child, a teenager. I’m pretty sure they don’t let teenage boys join convents. That has got to be frowned upon at the very least.
Do they mean a monastery maybe?
So both NamUs and the Ohio Attorney General’s Office give Chelsey Coe’s disappearance as July 1, 2017. I found this article her mom reported her missing in July after last hearing from her in June, but then this article saying she was last seen in August and her mom last heard from her in “June or July.”
If Chelsey disappeared in June, I can post her now, and I’ll be able to post her either now or soon if she disappeared in July. But if she went missing in August this case will have to wait at least another month.
Since she was last known to be living with some man whom I gather is a suspect in her case (they did search his yard with ground-penetrating radar after all), perhaps no one knows precisely when she went missing.
Another Executed Today entry I wrote, this one about John Montgomery, who cheated the hangman by taking prussic acid the night before he was supposed to be hanged for counterfeiting. The hangman had to be satisfied with just hanging William Rice, a thief, instead.
This was in the days of Britain’s Bloody Code, when just about every offense from shoplifting on up was punishable by hanging.