The Murder of Jeffrey Dryden: The Grim Truth Surrounding Male Domestic Abuse

by Troy Veenstra

  “Hey u folks! This is chiquita's aunt n Im really fed up with all the bull**** most of u been sayn….u don't no her or us like that to be talkn s*** bout who gon pay cuz for real tho. But chek this out nosy a** people u don't no what happnd so shut the **** up. My neice aint no damn killa it wuz an accident (NO IT WASN’T). She luvd jef n so did we. (was that because he was paying your nieces and sisters household bills?) Anyway, to jefs family n real frenz we hold u n our hearts n prayers. Just n case u dont no who u r. (I know who I am) im not talkn to the ones that claim to no she abused him but done nothn (interesting since she had criminal charges on her from a previous assault on Jeff from March of that year and Jeff had no priors) They both fought with each other, but I guess u all wishn she wuz gone rite. Thanx to those who r keepn an open mind on the situation.”

  This was followed by one of her cousins, who added, (and again this is taken word-for-word):

  “MAN ALL YALL DATS WANNA CLAIM DEY THINK DEY KNO DA STORY YALL CAN CHILL CUZ REAL TALK YALL GET GET IT DOE YALL DNT KNO WAT HAPPEN WIT DEM OR WAT THEY WAS GOIN THROUGH SO CHILL WIT ALL DAT NEGATIVITY”

  This was followed up by one of Jeff’s friends or supporters who had to address the grammatical issues, and use of improper and incomplete words, he stated: “The less that you can phrase a sentence correctly and use proper grammar, the less concentration that your point has. This isn't a text message, it's a public topic. Keep that in mind. RIP, Jeff. Just too sad.”

  Later on in the day, there was another Chiquita supporter that went on the offensive by the online name of “Tiffanyfive.” Tiffany, started calling everyone out by making bold threats, such as, for example when it came to me and what I was writing on, she stated that, “TROY VEENSTRA you ned to shut the HELL UP, you keep talking like that and you gonna get someone at your door, you know what I mean, you don’t know what happened, you weren’t there, you can’t back up what you’re saying, it was an accident, nothing else. I think you can get the picture as to the kind of person Tiffany was.

  Not being the kind of person that backs down when called out or to run away from an argument, I wrote back stating:

  “I can say whatever I want to... thankfully it’s not up to me, it’s up to the court system... and looking at previous case law that covers this topic, it’s a good 30 year sentence... she’s lucky as if it were up to our family, we would be voting for Michigan to become a death penalty state again... In addition, I did a criminal background check to back up what I have said. That said, Tiffanyfive I would expect nothing more from you and your family to come to her aid, you’re her family... if the situation was reversed, you would be demanding his head ... and we would be defending him. it’s just that simple... family is supposed to stand by each other and that is what our family is doing right now as too is yours. I feel no ill will towards you or other members of your family (I admit that as time wore on and ignorance kept flowing, my lack of ill-will faded to a degree) with the exception of your cousin. Sad as it is, even if she were to not be charged with this crime, she would still be a murderer in our eyes, it’s just how it is, no matter what you say to us, no matter what you want us to think, that's just the way it’s going to be and nothing will probably ever change that.”

  Somehow she took the whole, “demanding his head,” thing as a racial comment, as after that she started using a lot of racial slurs herself, stating that I should feel embarrassed for attacking her and her family because of their race and color. Trying to put a quick end to the whole, “racial comments,” I responded back stating: “Tiff I have nothing to be ashamed of... also you’re the only one bringing race into this...I never said anything about color in any of my post previous or otherwise. I said what I said because any family would feel that way; this has absolutely nothing to do with race, color, or creed.”

  During this back and forth argument between the bulk of Chiquita’s online family and myself. Kristen Woudstra, a friend of Jeff’s added more information backing up much of what I had already quantified, Kristen stated:

  “RIP Jeff you will always be in my heart! It’s amazing how some people act on here, Jeff was a wonderful amazing person! I cannot wait for her day in court, she will get her justice, and everyone can have some peace. And yes I know I wasn’t there blah blah blah. He was one of my best friends and I will always miss him. Stupid people deserve what they get! Oh and by the way the past violence was not against him.”

  A person going by the name Nick Slater stated: “You know your right i wasn't around 24/7. But I saw him at least 5 days a week for the past 5 years, so i think that’s pretty close to 24/7. And just because i wasn't there for what happened dosn't change what i know about your cousin. I know that she was the one that just got off probation for that last domestic that she got. Moreover, i know that your cousin was a bit** to Jeff. He repeatedly told me that the only time she gave two shits about him was the week he got paid. By the way does anybody feel dumber after attempting to read that stuff below?”

  With that, part 2 of the posting wars ended, but by no means was the battle over. There was more to say and more to add the next day, when the Wyoming Police Department reported to the press that they had placed formal charges of Murder in the 2nd degree on Chiquita Fizer; the posting wars were far, far from being resolved.

  CHAPTER 4:

  WINTER 2009

  “It was six or seven months later when Jeff finally had enough and went to meet Chiquita for what he thought would be the last time.” Jason stated, “Jeff had enough of her constant begging him for money or other things and just wanted to move on, however, when he went to go see her that night, he learned what she had truly been planning all along,” Jason said.

  Apparently, through the months of their weekly encounters, Chiquita had been taking notes of everything Jeff let slip whenever they were together, things such as telling her where he worked and how well he was paid, telling her about his past with the law and his two charges of possession. Allowing her to see him rolling up and smoking a joint just after sex, as well as admitting to her that Marijuana was his chosen addiction, and how he secretly feared every day at work, that someone might rat him out as being a user, or worse, the idea of spending the rest of his life in jail.

  Sadly, Jeff either forgot or didn’t know that men are very trusting after sexual intercourse due to the endorphins of euphoria running through their body and mind shortly after an orgasm or ejaculation. Both men and women share this commonality, as an orgasm (or ejaculation) is similar, having the same effects on the body as the use of marijuana and other similar illegal drugs, just not having the same long-term side-effects on the body.

  As such, while in that state of overwhelming bliss and/or euphoria, Jeff allowed himself to slip, allowed himself to trust, dropping his defenses, and shared such information with the proverbial black widow, the woman that would take advantage of him with all her womanly attributes, threats and even blackmail.

  Thus, that night that Jeff went to go see Chiquita to break off the sex only relationship, she threatened him with the truth. Telling Jeff she had grown tired of living with her mother and wanted to move out and that he was going to move in with her, he was going to take care of her.

  He would do all this and more while she stayed home and did whatever she wanted to. From time-to-time, she would be there for him to love physically. Allowing both of them to feed their own sexual beasts, but if he ever decided to leave her, to abandon her she would be forced to call his employer and let them know all about his yearning addiction and perhaps, if need be, even inform the cops of his stash.

  In Jeff’s mind, this threat was grim. “He worried about his two previous possession charges and how the, ‘Three Strikes Law,” would send him to jail for the rest of his life or at the very least he would lose his job and be unable to get another one” Jason stated. “Chiquita took full advantage of this fear every time she beat him, every time he got it in him to leave only to be shot down time and time again.” He added.

&
nbsp; Though I could understand Jeff’s fear about losing his job, the one thing that I found sadder than anything else was his fear of the Three Strikes Law. There were several things that I found quite disturbing when I heard this from Jason, several thoughts which ran through my mind that really made me depressed.

  The first thought was that the Three Strikes Law only applied to convicted Felonies of VIOLENT crime, the personal use of Marijuana is a misdemeanor charge not a felony, thus, the Three Strikes Law does not apply. The same is true with Possession of Marijuana though there is Jail time of up to a year with this charge it again would not enact the Three Strikes Law.

  Furthermore, and even more sad is that the “Three Strikes Law,” is not practiced in the state of Michigan and thus even if Jeff’s previous charges were Felony charges, he wouldn’t go to jail for life if Chiquita called the cops and told them he was using it for his personal use. Sadly Jeff’s fear was a fear based, and produced from the ideals and “truth” brought about by a Mediated Culture.

  CHAPTER 5:

  JULY 20, 2010

  The Long Gaze

  Around 11 am the next morning, I found myself standing with my mother on the porch of her house. Oddly, though it was Tuesday, the neighborhood seemed quiet, almost surreal.

  If ever there was a time in my life that I thought her smoking was a good thing, it was at that very moment, as it was quite apparent she hadn’t slept due to the events of the previous day and that the stress of it all was breaking her down both physically and emotionally.

  Looking at her face as she continued to gaze out across the street, I could see a slight redness in her eyes. The resonance of tears continuously being shed; a slight, abrasive, almost crackling of her voice as she spoke, a sign of sorrow in her heart, which continued to build deep inside.

  “Have a rough day?” I asked being my sarcastic self. “Yesterday,” she spoke softly as she gazed at the empty house across the street, her eyes not really fixed on anything noticeable, anything direct. “Yesterday we went to order the coffin for Jeff… needless to say Paula didn’t take it well… but what mother would, what parent would in the same situation?” She asked, not really expecting an answer to her question as she took a long drawn out inhale on her cigarette, allowing the smoke flavored nicotine to reach deep inside, filling her with the fix, the trivial want of ease she needed at that moment.

  “That girl… that girl needs to pay for what she’s done… all the pain she’s caused,” she hissed only to hush her words, stopping mid-thought as if trying to force herself not dwell on such things, at least not for the time being.

  “Later that day… after…,” she paused, tears washing down the side of her face. Bathing her cheeks with sadness, “Later that day I went over their pictures, picking out those to use for the poster and the memorial viewing.” She wept softly. “I had forgotten so much about them when they were little,” the smoke bellowing from her mouth before taking a deep breath of fresh air.

  “I forgot… when they slept, how Jeff always had his mouth open. How when they were together they always seemed to do things as one mind.” She hissed, her voice crackling with unrelenting sorrow and feeling. “Or how… when they smiled up at the camera, you could feel the warmth of their joy, their love through the picture,” She sighed. “It’s funny how you forget the little things about someone, how they seem to fade over time, only to come back to you when they’re gone,” she said.

  “So odd,” she added, taking another deep drag of her cigarette, once more, gazing out across the street, her eyes fixated on the distant past, images, memories feathering through her mind… I could see it all as I stood there with her, by her side.

  I could almost feel her every thought as she stood in utter silence, breathing. Each breath acting like a drawn out fight to hold back the tears, the sadness, the emotion everyone was feeling, the breaking of our hearts over our fallen friend, nephew, cousin, brother… son.

  Family Values

  “I’m going back inside and finish my coffee,” she said as she took a final inhale of her cigarette, slowly exhaling the smoke from her lungs as if enticed by the sensation, the relief of pent up stress. Following her into her house, I saw Eric sitting at the dining room table eating away on some eggs and bacon.

  “You want some chief,” Jim, our stepfather, asked as he walked out of the kitchen, “No… I’m good, thanks,” I said sitting down in the older, broken chair next to Eric. “She didn’t drag him down the steps as we were first told,” mom said as she placed her cup to her mouth, taking in the sweetened tang of her hazelnut coffee. “Though it sounds like she didn’t do much of anything to help, except tell the neighbors that he was drunk and came at her with the knife,” She added, suddenly reaching for the phone as it began to ring. “Hello?” she said with the same crackle in her voice, the same rough coarseness as she walked out of the dining room and quickly into the other room.

  “I imagine it’s been ringing a lot today huh?” I asked Eric, as I looked towards him, “How are you doing by the way?” I asked. “I don’t know,” he said openly, “I don’t think its hit me just yet,” he added. “I feel off… as if a part of me has been cut away,” he said, driving his fork into his scrambled eggs.

  “To be honest Eric, I don’t think the reality of it is going to hit anyone right away, not until we see him in a few days,” I said. It was then that mom came out of the bedroom, slamming the phone down almost breaking it. “They took some of his stuff,” she said, a stream of anger mixed with rage tearing through her voice.

  “What?” I asked not catching on right away to what she was saying. “Chiquita’s family, they got into the apartment and took some of Jeff’s stuff.” She said. “How,” I paused for a moment not sure how that was even possible, “How… it’s a damn crime scene, if it hasn’t been cleared then they can be easily arrested for that,” I said. “Paula said that the detective is not happy about it but apparently they got the key from the guy that was renting them the apartment and they came in early this morning and took the bulk of his stuff,” she said. The hatred and anger in her voice growing more and more as she spoke.

  “Tony is over there now making sure they don’t try and take the rims off Jeff’s car and to clean out the rest of Jeff’s stuff from the apartment before they come back.” She added. “Alone?” I asked only to get a confirmation to my question.

  Obviously, Eric, Jim and I quickly drove to Jeff’s apartment after hearing that Tony went up there by himself. Were we looking for a confrontation? Secretly maybe, more so, however, we wanted to make sure that our family did not have to go through another loss so close together by the hands of this family.

  When we arrived there however, Tony was nowhere in sight, nor was Jeff’s car. This left us a bit concerned as we drove aimlessly around the lots of the apartment complex, that was until we received a call from mom informing us that Tony was now back home and had taken whatever was left of Jeff’s belongings with him.

  After we returned home, my mom told us that Chiquita’s family had taken all of Jeff’s clothes, this included all his skateboarding hoodies which Jason wanted to have as a way of carrying his brother with him, as well as what they might have buried him in. A few months later, after Jeff had been buried and Chiquita charged with the crime of 2nd degree murder, Tony received a call from one of Chiquita’s family members, demanding that he return his cocktail table. To which, Tony replied, “First give me back my son!” It is my understanding that this individual continued to call, each time getting the same response until he eventually gave up.

  After going through all this, I had to wonder what values Chiquita was taught as a child. Most parents want nothing more than the best for their children, teaching them morals and values, the difference between right and wrong, but what about her family.

  Be it ever so true that there is not a family that is beyond the scope of perfection, but with that said, what kind of morals does a family have in teaching their children when they t
ake from the dead, take from those they have killed and show no true remorse for their family’s actions? Eventually this was something that her family continued to answer time, and time again with the result always being the same immoral, unethical choice.

  The flames of Hatred?

  By this time it was quite apparent who were the supporters of Chiquita as apposed the friends and family of Jeff, the real and ONLY victim in all this. Strangely enough however, some of my own family members felt that I was doing nothing more than adding to the flames of hatred. Fueling the rage of sadness and for a while, I thought maybe I should just stop commenting, stop saying what came from my heart. Stop venting; stop the desire to inform all those that would listen, all those that had the ability to read, about the kind of person my cousin was.

  I wanted others that were totally neutral, totally vacant of any bias to take a moment to know the truth, to know that Jeff was murdered, to know that this was not some damn accident, nor did I want them to allow; let them even begin to consider; to think that Jeff was the abuser in this relationship.

  I didn’t want Jeff’s name, his life to be trashed or dishonored. His legacy tarnished by a killer and her family’s quest to get their guilty family member free no matter who or what they had to say or do in order to do it and as such, stopping was not an option as I would hope someone would do the same for me if the situation ever came.