The following article shows the connection from domestic abuse to missing mother. Maybe not physically missing, however, she is missing from the lives of her children. Her children are, in most cases, left behind to deal with the aftermath for the rest of their lives.
The cases listed below are just a tiny example of an ever increasing list of women (and men) who are taken down by the manipulative, angry, and deadly abuser.
Just two weeks before she was killed — run over by her estranged husband in his car — Walz had obtained a protective order from a court in Cincinnati ordering him to have no contact her — even with her permission.
But Paul Walz spent most of the evening drinking with his estranged wife on the night she was killed, Boone County sheriff's spokesman Tom Scheben said.
Paul Walz told police the two had just left a party when she opened the door to his car and leaned out to vomit. She fell out and suffered fatal injuries when he ran over her, police say.
He has pleaded not guilty to charges of manslaughter, drunken driving and violating a protective order, and a trial is set for Jan. 18, 2010.
Deputy sheriffs in Hamilton County, Ohio, had charged Paul Walz two weeks before his wife's death with domestic violence and felony assault for allegedly running over her foot with his car. A protective order issued on May 25 ordered him to have no contact with her.
AMY DAVIS, 29, Jeffersonville, Ky., May 29
Amy Davis' family knew that her relationship with her ex-husband, Tony Patterson, was rocky, but they say they never suspected it would end violently.
She had taken out an emergency protective order against Patterson, but only because Amy's daughter — one of three children she'd adopted with Patterson before the two divorced — had told her that her ex-husband had made inappropriate sexual comments.
“It wasn't about violence to her,” said Davis' father, Ralph Davis.
Amy had a new fiancé, William Cain, and was seven months pregnant. Her My Space page noted that thought she was “stressed” she was “ready to enjoy my weekend” with Cain and the children.
Patterson couldn't accept the fact that she had met another man, Ralph Davis said.
“He kept calling her at all hours of the night,” he said. “She would change her number, and he would still get a hold of it.”
Nine days before she and Patterson were scheduled to appear in Montgomery County for a hearing on the protective order, Patterson forced his way into her mobile home southeast of Mount Sterling, shot and killed Cain, then chased Amy Davis into the yard and shot her dead, before killing himself.
“This just blindsided everyone,” Ralph Davis said. “He was always making threats, but we didn't think he would deliver on them.”
DANA GABRIELLE MCDONALD, 26, Louisville. Feb. 20
A therapist and nurse at the Home of the Innocents, Dana McDonald had been living with 29-year-old Michael Elery for about two months when they got in an argument two weeks before Christmas last year.
He refused to leave, so she called police, at which point he warned her that he would beat her up when he got out of jail, she said in a petition for a protective order.
“I think Michael will harm me,” McDonald wrote. “I want Michael to stay away.”
After hearing Elery's side of the story, a judge issued a domestic-violence order for three years, ordering Elery to stay 1,000 feet from her, and away from guns.
On Feb. 20, 2009, Elery was picked up in Harrison County, Ind., on a charge of public intoxication and told police he had assaulted his girlfriend in Louisville, according to court records.
McDonald was found dead of blunt-force injuries and multiple stab wounds in the apartment and Elery was charged with murder. He has pleaded not guilty and his trial is set for Aug. 27.
TASHA DYE, 35, Westport, Ky., Nov. 19, 2007
Tasha Dye was scared. Her estranged husband, Charles “Chuck” Dye whom she was divorcing, had threatened her and her family, she said in a petition for a protective order on Oct. 25, 2007.
That day, he had come to the home they had shared near the Ohio River, knocked on the door, and then barged in when she said to go away, she said. She locked herself in a bathroom and called 911, and he fled when he realized she'd called police.
But she had taken out a protective order against him in the past, and knew that other women had as well. “I am fearing he will do something to hurt me and my family,” she said in her petition.
Family Court Judge Tim Feeley had issued a domestic-violence order, instructing Dye to stay 500 feet away from Tasha and her mother, Carolyn Schildknesht, 55. There was no restriction placed on firearms.
The next month, three days after their divorce was final, Chuck Dye, 51, came to mobile home that Tasha Dye was sharing with Schildknesht, chased his ex-wife into the front yard and shot her in the head before killing himself.
“I really don't know what more could have been done to protect her,” said Joe Wells, her divorce lawyer. “The DVO was in place. All the boxes were checked like they're supposed to be.”
But Oldham County Police Detective Paul Kerr, who investigated the murder-suicide, said a GPS monitoring system — like the one proposed by House Speaker Greg Stumbo — may have saved Tasha Dye's life.
Although Chuck Dye lived close to his ex-wife — and could have beaten police to the scene if they had been alerted that he was approached her — Tasha Dye also would have gotten notice and would have had a chance to flee, Kerr said.
He said Chuck Dye would have been a perfect candidate for electronic monitoring.
“We knew him for years,” Kerr said. “We knew he was a violent person.”
THERESA CHEVELLE HICKS, 43, Hartford, Oct. 17, 2007
A waitress and mother of three children, Theresa Hicks once tried to get Robert W. Casey out of her life, then let him back in.
On Sept. 30, 2006, after Casey, a disabled former gas station worker, smashed the window of Hicks' van, cutting her and two of her children, she won an order requiring him to stay away from her for two years.
“He threatened my life,” she told District Judge John McCarty.
But four months later, she asked to have the order “completely dropped.”
McCarty refused to do that, ordering Casey to continue in anger-management counseling, and to refrain from further violence or harassment. At Hicks' request, though, he dropped the no-contact order, and the couple reunited.
“He persisted until she came back,” said Jennifer Anderson, Hicks' sister.
On Oct. 17, 2007 — a week before the protective order was to expire — Hicks and Casey went out drinking, got into a fight, and Hicks was pushed, fell or jumped from a moving vehicle, police said.
Hicks died of multiple blunt-force trauma and Casey was charged with murder, drunken driving, violating a protective order and assault of another person earlier the same night.
Casey eventually pleaded guilty to violating the order and second-degree manslaughter, and was sentenced to 10 years. His public defender, Lelah Rogers, declined to comment.
Anderson said her sister was “miserable” in her relationship with Casey.
“She didn't want to go back to him,” Anderson said. “She began living with him to get him to leave her alone.”
There are many strategies that are available that may have been able to save the lives of these women.
Our country's attorneys, judges, advocates and citizens must start practicing better procedures to help victims of abuse stay alive.
Obviously an Order of Protection is nothing but a paper trail of future abuse