Chapters
Shownotes Transcript
Love this podcast? Support this show through the ACAST supporter feature. It's up to you how much you give, and there's no regular commitment. Just click the link in the show description to support now. It's that time of the year. Your vacation is coming up. You can already hear the beach waves, feel the warm breeze, relax, and think about...
Work. You really, really want it all to work out while you're away. Monday.com gives you and the team that peace of mind. When all work is on one platform and everyone's in sync, things just flow. Wherever you are, tap the banner to go to Monday.com.
Millions of people have lost weight with personalized plans from Noom. Like Evan, who can't stand salads and still lost 50 pounds. Salads generally for most people are the easy button, right? For me, that wasn't an option. I never really was a salad guy. That's just not who I am. But Noom worked for me. Get your personalized plan today at Noom.com. Real Noom user compensated to provide their story. In four weeks, the typical Noom user can expect to lose one to two pounds per week. Individual results may vary.
This season, Instacart has your back to school. As in, they've got your back to school lunch favorites like snack packs and fresh fruit. And they've got your back to school supplies like backpacks, binders, and pencils. And they've got your back when your kid casually tells you they have a huge school project due tomorrow. Let's face it, we were all that kid.
Welcome to the Serial Killer Podcast, the podcast dedicated to serial killers. Who they were, what they did, and how they got there.
I am your Norwegian host, Thomas Weyborg Thun. And tonight, dear listener, we continue our stay in the American Southern States. Last episode, we learned much of Velma Barfield's background and childhood. And tonight, we continue our expose into the murderous activities of the Death Row Grandma. If you haven't listened to the previous episode...
Please do so now, before you continue. Please check out my fanpage on Facebook. Go to facebook.com slash the SK podcast for discussion, bonus content and frequent interaction with me, your humble host.
Also, feel free to visit my website at theserialkillerpodcast.com and, of course, my Patreon at theserialkillerpodcast.com slash donate. Any donation, no matter how small, is greatly appreciated.
Of course, being the modern podcast host that I am, I am now also to be found on Twitter under the handle SerialKillerPod, Instagram under the nickname SerialKillerPod, and I have recently created a subreddit on Reddit that you can visit and post to as you please at reddit.com slash r slash theskpodcast.
Finally, I can now proudly introduce my dear listeners to the one and only official TSK store. Go to theserialkillerpodcast.com slash store to buy exclusive t-shirts, coffee mugs, and even customized iPhone cases. Remember, buying TSK merchandise helps keep this podcast alive.
and your friends and family will envy your excellent taste in fashion while doing it. When Wilma Barfield was 17 years old, Thomas Burke proposed marriage, and Wilma accepted. She had a tremendous row with her father, at the end of which Murphy Bullard broke down in tears. Wilma had never seen her father, so steadfastly and traditionally masculine, cry before, but she still cried.
was adamant. She wanted to be with Thomas. Both Thomas and Velma quit school shortly after marrying. Thomas Burke held different jobs in a cotton mill, as a farm laborer and then driving a delivery truck. Velma worked for a while in a drugstore, but Thomas disliked having her work outside the home, so she quit.
The newlywed Burks were residing in a small Parkton home, where Velma's family had once lived when the young wife got pregnant in 1951. On the 15th of December that year she gave birth to Ronald Thomas. His sister Kim was born on the 3rd of September 1953. Velma Burke adored taking care of her babies.
She was an indulgent and protective mother, who frequently read to her youngsters and could not stand to be separated from them, even for a brief moment of time. She wanted both children to grow up to be ardent Christians and regularly took them to a Baptist church. When her children started school, Velma Burke quickly became known as one of the most involved mothers.
She was grade mother for the classes of both her children, and always available for class field trips and the like. She and her children joked that they had automatic arms, because whenever a teacher asked the class if someone's mother would be willing to assist with a project, their arms instantly shot into the air. Velma Burke could always be counted on.
She often drove children in the classes that her kids attended on field trips. And the youngsters would fight to ride with her because she was so much fun. Around this time, Velma got another paying job. This time, apparently Thomas did not object, as the family needed the extra cash. She took the midnight to 8am shift at a textile plant.
Thomas began a job as a delivery driver for Pepsi-Cola. As such, the family now had enough funds to move into a more comfortable house in Parkton. The Burks enjoyed several good years in post-war suburban America, experiencing the middle-class nuclear family bliss. In 1963,
Velma began having medical problems and had to undergo a hysterectomy, a surgical operation to remove all or part of the uterus. The married couple were not as distraught as some couples might have been, because both Velma and Thomas agreed that the two children were all they wanted. The surgery, however, appeared to have a drastic and negative effect on Velma.
She was alternately nervous or depressed, and often snappish. She began worrying that the fact she could no longer get pregnant made her seem less womanly, and, therefore, less attractive to her husband. She started to have more physical problems, and was especially troubled by lower back pain. Thomas Burke decided to join the Jaycees.
He went off to their weekly meetings while Velma sat at home with the kids. She began to resent his evening absences. Even more, she resented his drinking. Velma was a firm teetotaler who agreed with her church that alcoholic beverages were the devil's drinks. Thus, she was deeply upset when she found out that Thomas was regularly going out with his male friends for a few beers.
In 1965, Thomas had an accident as he was driving his three-year-old Ford Galaxy. As described in the book Death Sentence, the car left the highway, hit a culvert, sailed into the air and landed on its wheels in the driveway of a house. Thomas' head banged the steering wheel and he was knocked unconscious. He had a concussion and would ever after suffer severe headaches.
He always maintained that he had not been drinking, but had only been tired and had fallen asleep at the wheel. His wife would not buy it. She was certain he had been drunk and redoubled her nagging on the subject.
Thomas resented her noisy attempts to talk him into abstaining from booze. He drank no more than most of the guys he hung around with, and he wondered why his wife would give him such a hard time about it. Their battles over booze became an almost daily affair. Usually, Velma started them, upset because Thomas had liquor on his breath.
A shouting, name-calling match would follow, and the children were inevitably frightened and disturbed by their argumentative parents. Ronnie was especially concerned because he feared his father would eventually settle their disputes the way so many other men did, with his fists. To his credit, however, Thomas never employed brute strength in his many and furious arguments with his wife.
Eventually, Thomas was arrested for drunken driving in 1967. As a result, he lost his driver's license and, with it, his job at Pepsi Cola. He was devastated. The shame and despair plunged him into a depression, and he drank more than ever to duller pain that was caused by his drinking. The Burke kids no longer invited friends over to their home.
because they did not want the other kids to hear their parents fight or to see their father wiped out from booze. Eventually a mill hired Thomas, and he was able to ride to work in what we today call a carpool. The household tension was taking a great toll on Velma. She was ever more worried and frantic and had been drastically losing weight.
One day, Ronnie came home to find his mother lying on the kitchen floor in a dead faint. He was able to help her back to consciousness, but insisted on a trip to the hospital. Doctors there recommended she remain hospitalized for a week. She was given vitamins and sedatives before being released with a prescription for a mild tranquilizer, Librium.
When she got home, she eventually began taking more Librium than was prescribed. She also went to another physician and got a prescription for Valium. Velma Barfield had begun the evocation of doctor shopping that she would pursue up until her arrest for murder. It was the pattern of going to doctors and getting prescriptions without telling one doctor that she was seeing another.
Thus, she took medicines that were not supposed to be taken in conjunction with each other. Even as she constantly worried and loudly fretted about her husband's alcohol use, Thomas and her teenaged kids worried about her use of prescription medicines. She was taking too much, sometimes leaving her as groggy as a drunkard. One day in April, the Burke house caught on fire.
The only person home was Thomas Burke. Both children were at school. Velma said she had been at the laundromat when she came home to see the house in flames. Thomas Burke died of smoke inhalation. At the hospital, Velma collapsed when she was told of her husband's death. Ronnie and her sister caught her before she could fall to the floor.
A few months after this loss, Velma Burke experienced great joy and triumph through the achievement of her son. Ronnie was graduating from high school as a salutatorian. His mother sat proudly among the spectators as he spoke at the commencement. He chose the subject nearest to his heart, his mother.
In his speech, he paid tribute to her as a reason for all of the good qualities that he possessed. Velma cried as she listened to his public praise. What a joy to be so appreciated by one's grateful son and to have everyone know about it. However, the Burke family continued to have bad luck. There was another fire at their home.
This time no one was inside and no one was hurt, but the house was gutted. While they waited for the insurance to pay for the damage, the Burks moved back in with Velma's parents, Murphy and Lily Bullard. Soon after Thomas' death, Velma began dating a widower named Jennings Barfield.
Barfield was a man who had taken early retirement due to numerous health problems. He suffered from diabetes, emphysema and heart disease. He had lost his wife close to the time Velma had lost her husband. And the two were probably initially brought together by a mutual desire to comfort each other in grief. Then a romance grew and deepened and wedding bells were in the air.
They were married on the 23rd of August, 1970. It was a church wedding, something Velma felt she had missed out on in her youthful elopement to Thomas Burke. Velma moved into the small home in Fayetteville that her groom shared with his teenage daughter, Nancy.
Unfortunately, the newlyweds were soon having troubles, partly because of Wilma's penchant for overdoing it with prescription medications. Jennings found his wife in a semi-conscious state and took her to the hospital. The doctor on duty said she had overdosed. They separated, then reconciled, when she promised to quit taking so many pills.
She broke her word and went back to the emergency room with another overdose. Both Velma and Jennings confided to others that they believed the marriage had been a mistake. Divorce seemed in the offing, with it just a question of who would leave first. However, it never actually came to that.
Jennings Barfield died on the 21st of March 1971, apparently of the heart failure that had troubled him for years. Widowed again, Wilma did not appear to be coping well. She was despondent and listless, often medicating herself into oblivion and spending much of her time in bed.
After Jennings' death, she would recall, She worked at a Belks department store.
But her performance there was being badly affected by her mood swings and evident drug dependency. Her boss was a sympathetic man, so instead of firing her, he put her in a stock room where she could not alienate customers with a snippy or brusque manner. Adding to Velma's despair was a separation from her son. The Vietnam War was raging.
and Ronnie felt it was only a matter of time before he was drafted, so he decided to sign up. He had second thoughts after Jennings Barfield's death, and his mother begged him to attempt to persuade the military that he needed to be allowed to stay with his sick mother.
He made a sincere effort in that direction. Doctors wrote to the army, telling of Velma Barfield's precarious health and asking that Ronnie be permitted to honorably opt out of his contract. It did not work, and he was ordered to report to Fort Jackson in South Carolina. When it seemed like things could not get any worse, they did.
Velma's house once again caught fire, and Velma went into hysterics. She was simply inconsolable, and she asked anyone who would listen why these tragedies kept happening to her. She and her daughter once again moved back in with Murphy and Lily Bollard.
It was just in time, for Velma was fired from Belks. She had been coming in late and unable to perform her duties when she was there. Unemployment led Velma's chronic depression to deepen. It got even blacker when she learned that Murphy Bullard had lung cancer. His death at 61 years old plunged her into a horrible grief.
Life hardly seemed worth living. Her father was dead, and her son could be sent to Vietnam and quite possibly be killed. It seemed that she would lose Ronnie, even if he did not die, because he told her he was planning to marry. She did not give her son and his prospective bride her blessing. Instead, she was crushed. She told her son,
I've always been the most important woman in your life, and now you're going to have her, and you won't even want to come around at all. Ronnie tried to reassure her that his love for his future wife did not take away from his love for his mother. His earnest reassurance did nothing to ease her jealousy of the young woman who was to share his life.
But neither did Mother's jealousy dissuade Ronnie from going ahead with the plans for his wedding. In March 1972, Velma Barfield was arrested for forging a prescription. She pleaded guilty in April and got off with a suspended sentence and a fine. Then, finally, she got some genuinely welcome news. Ronnie was discharged from the army.
Despite the bright spot of Roni's return, Velma was still having a great deal of trouble. After her father's death, she and her mother fell into a pattern of frequent quarreling. Velma claimed that Lily was constantly ordering her about. The older woman expected to be waited on hand and foot. The grown-up Velma was not going to be treated like a slave by anyone.
Lilly, for her part, was dismayed by Velma's frequent use of pills and her tendency to sometimes simply pass out from taking too many. Lilly got dreadfully sick during the summer of 1974. Her stomach was wracked by painful cramps. She began throwing up uncontrollably and suffering a violent diarrhea.
It got so bad that Velma drove her mother to the hospital. The doctors could not determine the cause of the sudden illness. However, Lily was better after a few days and went home. On the 23rd of August, a man Velma had been dating was killed in a traffic accident. He had made Velma Barfield a beneficiary of his life insurance policy and she received a check for $5,000.
That Christmas appeared, as that holiday so often does, to be a time of sharing, forgiveness and reconciliation. Both Lily and Velma enjoyed bustling about in the kitchen, making a big turkey dinner along with a variety of rich desserts for their big extended family. Everybody at Grandma Bullard's house kidded around and laughed, then opened presents. However...
Lily pulled one of her sons aside to talk to him about something odd that troubled her. She had gotten a letter from a finance company telling her that the loan was overdue on her car, and it would be repossessed if she failed to promptly pay it. Lily had not taken out any loan on the car, and she owned it, free and clear. Her son saw no problem. It was probably just one of those paperwork snafus. Nothing to fret about.
A couple of days later, Lily again got terribly sick. She was nauseous and then vomited. That was followed by an awful attack of diarrhea. Her insides felt like they were burning up. She told Velma that she had hideous pains in her belly and upper back. Her arms and legs flailed about her. She threw up again and threw up blood.
Velma phoned her brother, Olive, who immediately drove over. He was appalled to see their mother so sick and called an ambulance. The rescue squad allowed Velma to ride in the ambulance with her mother. Lily Bullard died two hours after arriving at the hospital. Early in 1975, Velma was once again in hot water with the law. She had written another string of bad checks.
She was convicted of seven counts of writing bad checks. The judge sent her to prison for six months. She was released after serving three. A while after obtaining her freedom, Velma started to look for jobs as a caregiver for the elderly, sick people. In 1976, she was living with and working for Montgomery and Dolly Edwards.
Montgomery was 94 years old, bedridden and incontinent. He was a diabetic and had lost his vision to that disease as well as both legs that had been amputated. He could not feed himself. 84-year-old Dolly was in somewhat better shape, but she was a cancer survivor who had had a colostomy.
At first, Velma seemed pleased to be able to move into their comfortable brick ranch house. She got along well with both Edwardses and found a church she liked attending, the First Pentecostal Church in Lumberton.
As time wore on, tensions surfaced between the caregiver and her employers. Dolly often thought Velma was failing to do her duties on the job and told her so in no uncertain terms. Velma complained that Dolly was a demanding nitpicker. Their quarrels got more frequent and more heated. Montgomery died in January of 1977.
Velma stayed on to aid Dolly, and the two continued to bicker. It was the 26th of February, a Saturday, when Dolly got sick. She told her visiting stepson Preston Edwards that she believed she must have the flu. Vomiting and diarrhea plagued her. He came to see her the next night and was horrified by how weak and pale she looked.
She had to go to the hospital, he said, and obliging Velma Barfield called an ambulance. Dolly was treated by doctors in the emergency room and sent back home without having spent a night there. She took a turn for the worse the very next day and was back in the hospital by Tuesday. She died that very evening, but not before violent vomiting and excruciating pain.
I have a secret. I wore the wrong foundation for years. Then I discovered Il Makiage. Their AI-powered quiz makes it so easy to find a perfect match, customized for your unique skin tone, undertone, and coverage needs. With 600,000 five-star reviews and 50 shades of flawless natural coverage, this foundation is going viral for a reason. And with try before you buy, you can try your full size at home for 14 days. Take the quiz at ilmakiage.com slash quiz.
That's I-L-M-A-K-I-A-G-E dot com slash quiz. At BlueNile.com, you can find endless ways to make your moments sparkle, from classic and timeless jewelry gifts to creating the custom engagement ring of her dreams, all at prices you won't find at a traditional jeweler. And right now, you can save up to 40% on fine jewelry.
and 25% on engagement ring settings during the Blue Nile anniversary sale going on now. Go to BlueNile.com to shop the Blue Nile anniversary sale and save up to 40%. That's BlueNile.com. This episode is sponsored by BetterHelp. As a family man with three kids, I know firsthand how extremely difficult it is to make time for self-care. But it's good to have some things that are non-negotiable.
For some, that could be a night out with the boys, chugging beers and having a laugh. For others, it might be an eating night. For me, one non-negotiable activity is researching psychopathic serial killers and making this podcast. Even when we know what makes us happy, it's often near impossible to make time for it.
But when you feel like you have no time for yourself, non-negotiables like therapy are more important than ever. If you're thinking of starting therapy, give BetterHelp a try. It's entirely online, designed to be convenient, flexible, and suited to your schedule. Everyone needs someone to talk to, even psychopaths, even your humble host.
Never skip therapy day with BetterHelp. Visit betterhelp.com slash serialkiller today to get 10% off your first month. That's betterhelp, H-E-L-P dot com slash serialkiller. Although Velma now was without gainful employment, that did not last long. She was soon caring for another ailing and elderly couple,
80-year-old farmer John Henry Lee and his 76-year-old wife, Record. Record was the one needing special assistance, for she had recently broken her leg and was hobbling around on crutches, when she could manage to get around at all, that is. The position seemed quite suitable to Velma. The Lees lived in a brick house in a rural area on the outskirts of Lumberton.
They were willing to let Velma have Sundays and Wednesdays evenings off, so that she could attend church services. Problems started surfacing. Record Lee loved to gab, and the incessant chit-chat got on Velma's nerves. She and her husband often argued, and Velma disliked being present during their fights.
Then there was a check that puzzled Record. She knew she had not signed it. John Henry called the cops, but the case stalled because no one could think of anyone who might have forged Record's name. On the 27th of April, John Henry got sick. His stomach was upset, and he developed diarrhea.
His condition worsened and Velma called an ambulance. The medics rushed a sweaty, grey-faced man to the hospital. He gradually recovered and was released on the 2nd of May, after he had spent four days there. Doctors were mystified about the source of the sickness, but thought it was just probably a virus. Throughout May, John Henry continued to be sick, according to the book Death Sentence. I quote...
For a few days, he would be perfectly okay. Then the vomiting, the diarrhea, the cramps, the cold sweats would start again. His weight continued to drop drastically. His daughters were very grateful for the attentiveness that Velma showed him. She was so sweet to him, so caring. They felt themselves lucky that she was there."
as several victims before him. John Henry took a turn for the worse, and Velma called another ambulance for him. There was little the hospital could do for the dehydrated, terribly sick man in such horrible pain. He died on the 4th of June. Some time after the funeral of John Henry Lee, Velma Barfield moved into the home of Stuart Taylor,
Before Taylor became ill at a Rex Humbert revival meeting that we explored in the previous episode, Velma had visited his daughter, Alice, and asked to see a picture of her father that she had taken as a joke. It was his dead picture.
Stuart Taylor had stretched out on a couch, closed his eyes, and folded his hands across his chest to simulate the image of a man in a coffin. Velma laughed, along with Alice and Stuart, when Alice brought the photograph to her. Later, the memory of that shared laughter would cause Alice to shudder in abject horror.
The prosecutor in Velma Barfield's case was a large, blustery man named Joe Freeman Britt. He was an ardent advocate of capital punishment who had been called the world's deadliest prosecutor. During one period of 17 months, Britt had prosecuted 13 first-degree murder trials and won convictions in all of them.
That was a record, and got him a mention in a Newsweek article. Defending the accused serial poisoner was Bob Jacobson. He was a short, freckled lawyer, and one of the few in Lumberton who would accept court-appointed cases. He had never previously tried a death penalty case. Velma was being tried for one count of first-degree murder, that of Stuart Taylor.
Her defense was that she did not mean to kill, only to render her victim ill while she attempted to cover up thefts by returning money she had pilfered from him. If true, she was guilty only of second-degree murder and a death sentence would not even be at issue. Because the question of intent was so crucial, Britt argued that the jury was entitled to hear of other poisonings she had committed and their results.
Jacobson argued that that would be prejudicial, since she was only being tried for the death of Taylor. The judge in the case was Henry MacKinnon. He ruled that the evidence linking Velma to the deaths of John Henry Lee, Dottie Edwards, and her own mother, Lily Bollard, be admitted.
First, the prosecutor put on both medical personnel and family who testified to the horror of Stuart Taylor's death. Britt also brought out the fact that his life could have been saved had the antidote for arsenic poisoning, British antilevicide, or BAL, been administered.
However, to do that, the doctors would have had to have been informed that Taylor had been poisoned with arsenic, and the one person who knew that, Velma Barfield, did not tell them. Defense attorney Jacobson asked doctors about the effects of the various drugs Velma had been taking and their possible interactions with each other.
Some of the physicians who testified about treating Stuart had also treated Velma and prescribed medications for her. Their testimony showed that she was on drugs that could have badly impaired her judgments and were addictive. Jacobson put Velma on the stand in her own defense. He knew he was taking an enormous risk in doing so,
but felt he had to let her explain her own confused thinking to the jury. She did well on direct examination, saying that she had given her boyfriend poison to make him sick, but not to kill him. She said she did not tell doctors what she had done because she feared being returned to prison.
He also brought out her extensive use of various medications, her combining a wide variety of drugs, and her dependency on them. She admitted forging checks because she was addicted to drugs and could not pay for them out of her own limited resources.
In the opinion of Britt, Velma Barfield was a cold-blooded and cunning murderer who hid behind a sweet little old lady and pious Christian mask. He would tear those masks off and show the jury who she really was. When he cross-examined her, he began with no pretense of being amiable or friendly.
In his stance, manner and voice, he bristled with hostility. She bristled right back, and that was precisely what he wanted. At one point, she seemed to be trying to argue that she had not killed her victims. Rather, according to Velma, people coincidentally just happened to die after she poisoned them. After all, the first autopsies all indicated natural deaths.
"'What I would like, your honor,' Velma began during this astonishing statement, "'to say to the jury and all, these autopsies, let me say first of all, when a person dies, "'and they ask for an autopsy to be formed, "'is it not true that we have an autopsy performed to find out the reason of the death? "'So I don't believe I killed them, really. "'That is exactly the way I feel about it.' "'A stunned Brit asked.'
"'Beg your pardon?' "'I don't think it killed them.' At another point Velma seemed oddly arrogant and snippy. "'You made Mrs. Edward sick with Singletary's rat poison, did you not?' "'No, I thought it was roach and ant poison.' "'So you knew these compounds would certainly make people sick?' "'I knew it would make them sick,' the witness replied. "'You knew it would kill them too, didn't you?' "'No, I did not.'
The defense put on several medical witnesses to testify to Velma's lengthy history of chronic and overlapping drug use. None of them could say that she had been rendered insane in the legal sense by drugs, but they testified that her judgments could have been terribly clouded. Right after the prosecutor gave his summation to the jury...
Velma made a gesture of silent applause, repeatedly putting her hands together without actually clapping. Her attorney and family were crestfallen. Britt was elated. With that single, uncalled-for sarcasm, he was certain that Velma Barfield had as good as signed her own death warrant. The jury came back with a verdict of guilty of first-degree murder.
Then it found the aggravating circumstances to recommend the death penalty. Judge McKinnon fixed her punishment at death. Like most states, North Carolina has no row of women waiting to be executed. When she was sentenced, Velma Barfield was the only female in the state doomed by the law.
She was housed in the central prison section for mental cases, especially assaultive inmates and prisoners considered prone to escape. Early in her prison stay, Velma went through drug withdrawal. She had been supplied with many of her accustomed medications during her trial.
Her first days as a condemned prisoner were spent without them, and she showed the classic symptoms of cold turkey. Lack of appetite, insomnia, nausea, cold sweats, and splitting headaches. The doctor who treated her gave her antidepressants and anti-anxiety medications. Then, gradually, over a period of over a year, she was weaned off of them as well.
To the extent possible, Velma made her cell into a home. She put up photographs of her children and grandchildren, along with knick-knacks she crocheted and inspirational religious slogans. Velma did not usually smoke, but she usually had a pack of salims so that she could light one up while having a bowel movement on her cell toilet.
Velma, whose victims had usually suffered a horrendous diarrhea before death, did not want to offend her guards with the odor of her own excrement. Velma's radio was usually tuned into a Christian program. Velma claimed that she had become a born-again Christian while in jail. Although she had been a churchgoer and professed to love Jesus all her life,
Velma said that she recognized that she had never been a true Christian. Her Christianity had been a matter of form, gesture. Then, while at her lowest ebb and awaiting trial for her life, she had finally, genuinely, opened her heart to Jesus and received forgiveness and salvation.
She was listening to a sermon by J.K. Kinkle when the message of God's love hit home for the first time. "'All my life I was weighted down by my sins because I couldn't do better,' she wrote in her autobiography. "'It never occurred to me that Jesus really did pay the price, that Jesus alone bore the extreme punishment, death, for my sins, not just for my good neighbors.'"
And, even more glorious, Jesus is willing to be my friend, even now. I can talk to him, and he will listen. End quote. Her conversion was greeted with skepticism by many, including the families of her victims. After all, she had spoken of Jesus and salvation when they knew her, and when she was poisoning their loved ones.
Her Christian faith had always been a fraud, they believed, and it continued to be one. It was just a ploy to try to save her life. However, many people were favorably impressed by Velma's claim to be, for the first time in her life, filled with the Holy Spirit. Tommy Fouquet, a Pentecostal holiness minister, believed that she was a true Christian. He said, and I quote,
"I don't think I had ever seen anybody who had the repentant spirit she had," he commented. "I could see her growing and her attitude changing. The faith in her just grew and grew each time I would see her." The world-famous evangelist Billy Graham and his wife Ruth would come to believe Velma Barfield was their sister in Christ.
Ruth Graham kept in frequent touch with Velma by mail. Velma found meaning in her limited life by helping other prisoners. She was dismayed to discover how many inmates were functionally illiterate. She often wrote letters for them. Special rules applied to Velma because of the death sentence, and those included no contact with the other inmates.
However, the prison authorities frequently broke this rule because they found that she could be a positive influence on other prisoners. Assistant Superintendent for Treatment and Programs at the prison, Jenny Lancaster, put a 15-year-old named Beth into the cell next to Velma's. Lancaster asked Velma to try to help the girl who had been convicted as an accessory to murder.
Velma put her hand through the bars of her own cell and toward the next one, so that Beth could hold hands with her. Beth took Velma into her confidence, pouring out her fears, while Velma prayed aloud for her and tried to comfort as best she could. For the first time in her life, Velma was known by her first name, and Beth was the first prisoner to call her Mama Margie.
She would not be the last. Other inmates often came to Velma for advice and words of reassurance. Letter writing for herself and others consumed much of Velma's time. She wrote to her family and to supporters she had never met. She also kept up with her crocheting. Velma prayed and read the Bible on a daily basis. Her son and daughter visited and sometimes brought her grandchildren with them.
Together with a pastor, she worked on her memoirs, the book Woman on Death Row. Any death sentence is automatically appealed. In June of 1990, the Supreme Court turned down her appeal because it found no unconstitutional element in the way North Carolina's death penalty statutes read. A new attorney was handling Velma's case.
He was a six-foot-tall, 200-pound, long-haired and thickly-bearded 30-year-old called Richard Burr. He was a lawyer for the Southern Prisoners' Defense Committee and dedicated to aiding prisoners under a death sentence. Velma was the first doomed prisoner he would defend. Two hundred other condemned would follow.
On the 17th of September, the Supreme Court turned down another appeal filed by Burr on Velma Barfield's behalf. Her best shot would be in North Carolina state courts, Burr concluded, but he had no license to practice in North Carolina. Thus, a short and slender 36-year-old named Jimmy Little became her lawyer of record with Burr assisting him.
Little had once been a public defender. He also had a reputation for being willing to stick his neck out. He had fought for his interpretation of free speech when he was a student at the University of North Carolina by opposing the ban on communist speakers at state campuses. As an army officer during the Vietnam War, he had vocally opposed the United States being in that conflict.
Little went to the Bladen County Superior Court. He filed a motion asking for a hearing to determine whether or not his client was entitled to a new trial. There were several complaints behind this motion, but the chief one was ineffective assistance of counsel. Thus, Velma was pitted against Bob Jacobson, her previous attorney.
Little argued that Jacobson had failed in his duty to make appropriate motions and to put on helpful psychiatric witnesses. The judge ruled against Velma and set another execution date. Her lawyers soon got a stay and filed more appeals. Over the next six years, several appeals were filed and turned down. Several execution dates were set and avoided.
Both Ronnie and Kim continued to visit. As mother and son realized time was running out, Ronnie Burke brought up the painful subject of his father's death in one of their conversations. He was palpably terrified of the answer, but he had to ask. "'Did you kill him?' Ronnie asked. "'I'm sure I probably did,' she said sadly."
Slowly, the story spilled out. Her memory was fuzzy, but she believed that he had been drunk and asleep, and she lay either a cigarette or a match at the foot of the bed. Then, she had shut the door. She also admitted to the minister, who helped her write Woman on Death Row, that she had murdered Jennings Barfield. Once the appeals had been exhausted,
Velma and her supporters had a thin ray of hope in the form of clemency from North Carolina's governor. That governor was James Hunt, who was running against famous incumbent Jesse Helms for the U.S. Senate. The governor refused Velma's request for clemency, saying her victims had been literally tortured to death.
Hunt tersely denied that a Senate race had played any part in his decision. As she prepared for death, Velma was able to speak over the phone with Billy Graham. "'Velma, in a way I envy you,' the famous pastor told her, "'because you're going to get to heaven before I do.' Later she spoke to the Graham's daughter, Anne Graham Lotz, who comforted Velma by saying,
Don't think of it as the execution chamber. Think of it as the gateway to heaven. As they do at all American executions, demonstrators both for and against capital punishment gathered outside the prison before Velma's death. Opponents held lit candles and hummed Amazing Grace, Velma's favorite hymn. A festive mood prevailed among the capital punishment supporters,
They hailed signs saying Velma's going to have a hell of a time, and bye-bye, Velma, and many chanted, die, bitch, die. In her cell, Velma took a final communion. They put on an adult diaper underneath the cotton pajamas in which she had chosen to die. Velma, it's time, she was told. Velma requested and got permission to put a robe on.
Then she checked her hair in the mirror and stepped into the hallway. She was taken to a preparation room and asked if she had any last words. She did. "'I want to say that I'm sorry for all the hurt that I have caused,' she began in a firm voice. "'I know that everybody has gone through a lot of pain. All the family is connected, and I'm sorry. And I want to thank everybody who has been supporting me all these six years.'
I want to thank my family for standing with me through all this, and my attorneys and all their support to me. Everybody. The people with the prison department. I appreciate everything. Their kindness and everything that they have shown me during these six years. Then, the condemned prisoner was escorted to her gateway to heaven. That gateway was a tiny, sterile room with a gurney in it.
Velma got up on that gurney, then lay flat down on it. Needles connected to IV leads were inserted into her arms. She would receive something to make her sleep. Then, and one could arguably say appropriately, a poison to stop her heart. There were two lines into Velma, but three executioners.
One of their thumbs would press upon a plunger that was connected to a dummy, so no one would know for certain he had taken a life. Velma, she was told, please start counting backward from 100. Obediently, Velma began. 100, 99, 98. Her voice slurred into silence, and she started to snore. Her breathing got lighter and lighter with each breath.
Then her skin turned an ashen grey. The monitor connected to her heart showed a flatline. At 2.15am on the 2nd of November, 1984, Velma Barfield, serial murderer and born-again Christian, loving mother and killer of her children's father and grandmother and several others, was dead.
1-800-Flowers.com is more than your birthday, anniversary, or just-because gift-giving destination. We put our hearts into everything we do to help you celebrate all life's special occasions with friends and family. From our farmers and bakers, florists and makers,
Everything from 1-800-Flowers is made with love, every step of the way. Because we know that nothing is more important than delivering a smile. To learn more, visit 1-800-Flowers.com slash ACAST. That's 1-800-Flowers.com slash ACAST. Need new glasses or want a fresh new style? Warby Parker has you covered. Glasses start at just $95, including anti-reflective, scratch-resistant prescription lenses that block 100% of UV rays.
As dawn broke over the seven seas, the pirates of the Crimson Galleon set sail for adventure.
But there was one problem. Paperwork. Mountains of it. Filing, invoices, you name it. This work ain't fit for a pilot. Luckily, their captain had an idea. She used the smart buying tools on Amazon Business so they could work more efficiently and get back to doing what they do best. I know, right? Amazon Business, your partner for smart business buying. I have been your host, Thomas Weiburg-Thun. Doing this podcast is a labor of love.
Also, this podcast has been able to bring serial killer stories to life, thanks to you, dear listener, and especially those of you that support me via Patreon. You can do so at theserialkillerpodcast.com slash donate. There are especially a few patrons that have stayed loyal long time.
Tommy, Sid and Meg, Sarah, Maud, Brandon, Charlotte, Craig and Wendy. Your monthly contributions really help keep this podcast alive. You have my deepest gratitude. As always, thank you, dear listener, for listening. And feel free to leave a review on your favorite podcast app or website. And please do subscribe to the show if you enjoy it.
Thank you. Good night and good luck.
