I was not alone.
More than thirty-nine million Americans have suffered from childhood abuse. Thirty-nine million! The only way we can change the rampant spread of harm is to raise our voices, erase the shame, and educate those who are unaffected. Over the course of many years, I came forth with my story. I started to tell the truth about what happened to me. To my own surprise, I found sympathy and outstretched arms. Eventually, the truth set me free literally and figuratively.
It wasn’t easy. Too often, victims are further victimized by careless sentiments from people who don’t understand. We hear words like, “If that happened to me, I would have done this or that.” Or they blame us with words such as, “Why didn’t you leave or tell?” People have a tendency to place themselves in the role of the victim, but they cannot imagine the horrors of child abuse unless they have lived it. These kinds of statements and questions create blame and shame. We must not victimize the victim in this way. Together, we can erase shame. Together, we can create a support system so people will speak up and abusers will be held accountable.
Stacey Kananen’s story is both horrific and inspiring. She survived a childhood nightmare and was later falsely accused of patricide and matricide. She was thrown unwillingly into the glare of the public spotlight. Her life and her lifestyle were put on display for the public to judge and critique. Yet somehow she found the strength to shed the role of victim and help others who have been hurt.
Everyone has suffered from something in our lives—some more than others. People deal with their pain differently. Many try to ignore it or drown it in denial. A select few stand up and raise their voices in an attempt to make a difference. Stacey is one of those people. She has risen above the judgment of herself and others. Bravely, she takes us down the unimaginable twists and turns of her inconceivable life. She tells the truth. And her childhood is no longer the land of nightmares. Instead, it is a battleground where she fought for her sanity and won. Stacey is an inspiration, and I admire her ability to reflect upon her past with such candor. Her story, like all of our stories, will empower others.
Stacey Lannert, author of Redemption: A Story of Sisterhood, Survival, and Finding Freedom Behind Bars
ACKNOWLEDGMENTS
I have so many people to thank, but I absolutely must thank Susan Cowan first. Without her believing in me and standing by my side, this story would never have come to life. The support she has given me has been unconditional, and she has been my rock since 2003.
I must also thank my legal team, Diana Tennis, Toni Maloney, Claudia Lee, Jeanice Chevere, and John Von Achen. Without all of these wonderful people who had never met me until my arrest in 2003, I would not be sharing my story in the efforts to try to change the lives of many. A murder trial is more stressful than those who have never experienced it can imagine.
Thank you to Linda Langton, Chuck Hurewitz, Shannon Jamieson Vazquez, and Adrienne Avila. Without all of you, this project would still be on the drawing board.
Thanks to Stacey Lannert and Kristen Kemp, who made contributions to this book and gave me strength to continue. One of my inspirations for the changes I want to make when it comes to child abuse is the life Stacey Lannert had. Her author and friend Kristen helped me to see that with the right person you can share your story. Thank you for your support.
My therapist, Jessica Deeb, has been a special person in this process. Without her untiring hours of working with me for over two years now, I would have never had the courage to write this book. She has been and will remain a great support for me.
Last, but most certainly not least, is a special thanks for Lisa Bonnice for the tireless hours we worked on getting the story told so she could write it. So many times I said, “I don’t want to talk about this,” even though I knew we needed to. She was there at the trial, one of my staunchest supporters, besides Susan. There may have been other people who wanted to write this, but in my heart I believe I chose the best person. Her objectivity and respect for my family and our lives were more than I could have hoped for.
To my family, those here and those not with us anymore, I hope someday for healing and for a day of peace. To my grandfather, thank you for watching out for me. To my mom, I hope that you have finally found peace and joy, since you were never allowed those during your marriage. May you know that all of your children and grandchildren love and miss you.
Stacey M. Kananen
I would like to thank Stacey’s legal defense team: Diana Tennis, Toni Maloney, Claudia Lee, John Von Achen, and Jeanice Chevere, for meeting with me and telling their parts of this story. I also want to thank Linda Langton, our agent; Chuck Hurewitz, our attorney; and Shannon Jamieson Vazquez and Adrienne Avila at The Berkley Publish Group for making this happen. Jessica Deeb, Stacey’s therapist, was very helpful in allowing me to interview her. And special thanks go to Stacey Anne Lannert and Kristen Kemp for their contributions.
Personally, I give thanks to my family for being so supportive: Kristina and Mike for the office space/elbow room, Stacy for the editorial feedback, Mom for the spare bedroom, and Jeff for being Jeff. Thanks, Dad, for watching over me from “the other side,” and thank you to Francis de Sales, patron saint of authors, for getting me through the toughest times of writing this harrowing story. Monica Shank, thanks for your assistance in the early stages of this project!
Susan Cowan deserves a shout-out, as well, because she was a big part of this project, in a lot of ways. But I especially want to thank Stacey M. Kananen for choosing me to write this book with her. I’m honored for her trust in me to be the one to share this journey with her.
Lisa Bonnice
My mom with a very young Rickie.
My third grade elementary school picture. All of my childhood photos were destroyed when Rickie cleared out Mom’s house after killing her. I only have this because an old friend e-mailed it to me after my trial.
COURTESY OF KARIN NAUBER
Me and my mom at a Mother’s Day brunch in 1991.
COURTESY OF SUSAN COWAN
Rickie and me at Daniel’s birthday party when he turned four in 1995.
COURTESY OF SUSAN COWAN
Grandpa, Mom, me, and Susan at Epcot for a show in 2000.
COURTESY OF SUSAN COWAN
Me, Mom, and Susan at Niagara Falls, New York.
COURTESY OF SUSAN COWAN
Christmas 2002 at Mom’s house, with gifts she gave us. This was our last Christmas with her.
COURTESY OF SUSAN COWAN
Me and Rickie at Mom’s house, Christmas 2002, after not seeing each other for about two years.
COURTESY OF SUSAN COWAN
My mom’s house at 7611 Alachua Street, Orlando, Florida, with Rickie’s van in the driveway. This is how the house looked when the CSI unit dug up the garage floor.
ORANGE COUNTY SHERIFF’S OFFICE, ORLANDO, FLORIDA
This photo was taken after the cement had been removed from my father’s grave.
ORANGE COUNTY SHERIFF’S OFFICE, ORLANDO, FLORIDA
Crime scene investigators pull my father’s body, wrapped in a blue tarp and bedding, from a hole deep beneath the garage floor.
ORANGE COUNTY SHERIFF’S OFFICE, ORLANDO, FLORIDA
Mom was buried here, beneath the plastic tote. Law enforcement made much of the fact that neither Susan nor I noticed any changes in our backyard after Rickie buried Mom there.
ORANGE COUNTY SHERIFF’S OFFICE, ORLANDO, FLORIDA
This is the shirt that Mom was buried in, and it was torture everytime the prosecutor displayed it at the trial.
ORANGE COUNTY SHERIFF’S OFFICE, ORLANDO, FLORIDA
This is the notebook that my defense attorney, Diana Tennis, found the week before my trial, which played such a pivotal part in my defense.
ORANGE COUNTY SHERIFF’S OFFICE, ORLANDO, FLORIDA
Me with my wonderful defense attorney, Diana Tennis, about a year after my trial.
COURTESY OF SUSAN COWAN
Me and Susan celebrat
ing New Year’s Eve, 2010/2011.
COURTESY OF SUSAN COWAN
Fear of Our Father Page 29