by Bob Friel
The cool fort came down, though, when Pam found out Colton had built it with lumber she’d bought for another project.
“Every once in a while at school he’d be upset,” says Anne. “I’d ask him what’s wrong and he’d be like, ‘Oh, my mom’s just stupid.’”
Colt had a really cool dad, though—or so Anne thought. “Colt was always telling me that his dad was a pilot and that there was nothing he wanted more than to grow up and fly planes like him. But I never met the dad that he talked about. I knew his mom had boyfriends, but it didn’t sound like Colt liked any of them much.”
PAM FILED FOR DIVORCE from Bill Kohler in 1998, though it was never finalized. Bill left the family several times, and before Pam would let him come back, she’d search his bags for drugs. Even when she let him stay, he’d eventually leave again. After Bill came Van Jacobsen, a man described in Child Protective Services referrals as “an alcohol or drug abuser,” and another questionable role model for Colt. Van drifted in and out of the trailer over many years. Camano locals who know him say Van is “a nice, gentle guy” whose hard living has taken its toll. Pam herself described him as “not playing with a full deck.” Neighbors say it sounded like Pam always yelled more than talked to him, but Van kept coming back.
Gordy would also occasionally show up back at the trailer, and Pam says Colt didn’t like that. “He was a drunk, and Colt wanted him to leave. They did battle around here almost every day.” Colt even argued that Gordy was not his father, insisting to Pam that it was Bill. She says she understood his feelings. “I guess if you have a shitty father you choose the next best thing.”
With a growing resentment toward Gordy—and denied Bill, who he did feel close to—Colt clung to a fantasy father, the famous flier.
Other than his lifelong fascination with “up,” Pam says she doesn’t have a clue where Colton’s love of planes originated. None of the men Colt had seen with his mom was an actual pilot. She indulged his interest, though, by buying him balsawood fliers, those featherweight model planes that American boys have been zooming around their yards since World War I. The wafer-thin wings don’t stand up to much abuse, and after a few of his rough landings splintered the wood, Pam says Colt would go into meltdown mode. When he kept crashing and breaking every plane he got his hands on, Pam decided that instead of continually buying him new ones, it was smarter to get Colt a big sheet of balsa and let him start designing and building his own aircraft.
Pam says she also took Colton across Saratoga Passage to watch the planes taking off and landing at Whidbey Naval Air Station. Twenty-one active squadrons (the Zappers, Scorpions, Grey Wolves, Fighting Marlins, Black Ravens, and others) are based at Whidbey, with more than enough thundering warbirds in the air to rattle the bedroom windows and fuel flights of fancy for all the kids in Island County.
According to what Colton later told counselors, his relationship with his mom began to deteriorate by the time he started grade school. However, they still shared a love of the outdoors. They bonded over camping trips (“Maybe I shouldn’t have taught him all that survival stuff!”) and visits to Camano’s beaches. One day Pam drove him to the top of the island and dropped him off at Utsalady Beach. “I didn’t stay because I had a headache,” she says. “When I went back to pick him up at the end of the day, Colt had built hisself a really cool Robinson Crusoe camp using sticks and towels.”
He’d also captured what Pam remembers as forty Dungeness crabs (more than six times the legal limit) and had them piled on the beach. “He had a crowd of people watching, so I told him to pick the five biggest to bring home for dinner and let the rest go.”
Colton loved Dungeness crab, Cancer magister, the Salish Sea’s most delicious bottom feeder. These muscle-bound crustaceans make East Coast blue claws look like daddy longlegs, and fresh Dungeness meat comes out in big sweet chunks. Most folks fish Dungeness using pots and traps, with only the hardiest climbing into chest waders and plodding through the frigid shallows armed with dip nets. Young Colt, however, devised a way to catch the big crabs without nets or traps. He used only his bare feet.
Impervious to the cold water as only a true Northwest island boy could be, Colt would splash into the 50-degree sea wearing just his baggies. He’d stalk or swim over the sand and swaying eel grass until he spotted the broad purplish back of a Dungeness, then maneuver behind it. The predatory crabs earn their place in the food chain by cracking rock-hard clam shells with a pair of serrated claws that can also put a serious hurtin’ on any errant finger or pinkie toe. Colt, though, would fearlessly poke his toes beneath the crab’s belly then quickly flip it up. As the crab frantically flailed the water and snapped its claws, Colt’s hand would dart in to snatch it behind the last of its ten legs, safely out of pinching range.
Colt seemed a natural for the Cub Scouts. He joined up and began working his way through the ratings. Pam says he once even won the rain-gutter regatta, a race where the scouts blow through straws to propel little wooden sailboats down water-filled rain gutters. Unfortunately, she didn’t make it there to see him win because she says she’d gone back to work and had a night shift. She says Colton ultimately had to quit the scouts because she couldn’t take him to the meetings in the winter when it was too dark for her to drive.
Before he left the Cub Scouts, Colton advanced from Bobcat to Wolf Scout. In a childhood recorded by remarkably few photos, Colt’s Wolf certificate became one of his few treasured mementos.
Chapter 12
In 1999, just after Colton turned eight, an event occurred that Pam says sparked his bad attitude toward the police. Though money was scarce, she’d scraped together $300 to buy him a new bike for his birthday. The bike became Colton’s prize possession, a symbol of independence and a vehicle for adventures, real and imaginary.
Pam was up on the trailer’s porch when an Island County Sheriff’s Office prowler pulled into the driveway with Colton in the backseat. She walked down and asked, “What’s up?” She says the deputy just got out, walked around his car, and popped the trunk. “Is this Colt’s?” he asked, pointing at the new bike.
“I got pissed!” says Pam. “I said, ‘Yeah, I just bought it for him!’ They figured ’cause we live in this dumpy trailer and must be dirt poor that how could Colt get a bike like that, well, he must have stole it.”
Pam remembers Colton being scared.
The sheriff’s office says they have no record of the incident, but don’t doubt that it happened. They say Camano-based deputies had already been hearing complaints about Colton from neighbors (nothing made it into official police records until two years later). “Based on his history and what the guys knew about him,” says Detective Ed Wallace, “I would not doubt that upon seeing Colton on a new bike that the guys would’ve wondered, Hey, what’s going on? and taken him home. I don’t doubt it happened at all. I just doubt whether that was the pivotal dramatizing event of his life.”
The police who worked Camano Island in the 1990s and early 2000s considered the South End a trouble spot, and not without reason.
“We had a slog of bad kids around here for a while,” says Jack Archibald. “Parents didn’t know how to teach them to be students. There were people like Pam, barely hanging on, doing their own thing, letting their kids run wild. The kids naturally looked for trouble and it was easy down here because most of us didn’t lock our doors.”
“There’s a real rugged side to things on the South End,” says Bonnie Bryand in her honey-barbecue Texas twang. Bryand moved to Camano in 1994 and raised three kids on the island, including a son named Kory who is the same age as Colton. “A lot of cooking was going on down here until about five years ago.” For a while, she says, it wasn’t unusual to find meth fixings that had been tossed into the ditches.
According to Bryand, drug and alcohol abuse and a lot of single-parent homes affected an entire group of Camano kids in Colt’s generation. “On top of the problems in the households, the kids had nothing constructive to do on the island
.”
Camano suddenly had its homegrown version of the Dead End Kids as the children living at the bottom of the island became known as the South End Hoodlums. They began to attract a lot of attention from the police. “When I first moved here there was only one cop on duty for the whole island and you were lucky if he’d show up when you called,” says Bryand. “Then suddenly it seemed like we had four or five per shift and they were going after these kids real hard.”
Bonnie’s husband died in a car wreck while intoxicated, and her oldest son began running with the bored kids looking for trouble. She says that once the police identified someone they thought was bad, it was very hard for that kid to break out of the cycle. “If you lived anywhere near here, you got pegged.”
Two of the troubled kids Bonnie began to see around the neighborhood appeared to have all the cards stacked against them. One was the son of a meth addict. “His mom… I tried to help her out, but she got busted. When she got out of jail you couldn’t have her around, you couldn’t trust her. They lived in an old trailer house just falling down in the woods, and she had a lot of men in and out of there.” The tweaker’s son had a friend he ran around looking for trouble with: Colton Harris-Moore.
“Those two young boys, eight or nine years old, basically ran her house, always tearing things up and stealing stuff. Of course, her being a drug addict, she didn’t really care what they did.”
Though they lived less than two miles apart, Bonnie hadn’t met or heard of Pam, but she began to see a lot of Colton. “He was out running the streets on his own from a very young age.” Colt, she says, pushed himself into her kids’ groups. “He tried to fit in, but he was real aggressive, too rough, so nobody wanted to play with him and that’s when it became a problem. He wouldn’t take ‘No.’”
Bonnie has both a niece and a nephew diagnosed with attention-deficit/hyperactivity disorder (ADHD) and says she recognized a lot of those behaviors in Colton. “I don’t think he ever meant to be mean, but every day my daughter would come home crying because Colt had hurt her. I’d always tell her, ‘He’s just playing with you,’ which might have been the wrong thing to say. I didn’t see Colt as a demon, though. I liked him and always felt bad for him. The kids didn’t like him, but they had no understanding of what he was dealing with. Colt didn’t see that he was different.”
It wasn’t just the kids, though, who had a problem with Colt. “Everybody shunned him,” says Bryand. “Most parents didn’t want him in their house. The main problem was that he didn’t have any manners. They thought he was disrespectful, and he was, but you’re talking [about] a really young kid and I don’t think he intended to be. It was just all he knew.” Bonnie says that Colt would invite himself into her house. “I mean no knocking, no nothing, just walk in. And then he wouldn’t be interested in the kids or me. You could be talking to him, but he’d be in his own world looking at the things we had around the house. You had to keep an eye on him because he’d take things, and then he’d wind up breaking them.”
Colt also helped himself to her kids’ bikes. “He always stole bicycles. He would just go in your yard and take one. He thought he was just borrowing it.”
Bryand’s son Kory says Camano wasn’t a great place to grow up. He had troubles with the same set of kids over in Stanwood as Colt and Anne. “It was hard… not a lot of accepting people. Me being half Mexican, they made fun of me.”
With his own outcast and South End tinge, Kory seemed a likely friend for Colt. However, he says, “Colt was always difficult to get along with.” He describes Colt as primarily a loner, though says he would get to be friendly with one or another Camano kid for a while. However, the friendships would eventually sour. “Colt’s mouth would end it,” says Kory. “He loved to argue, usually pointless arguments, and he’d always wind up calling the other kids imbeciles. That was his favorite word.” Kory says most of the arguments started because of Colt’s tall tales. “He’d make up these unimaginable stories, huge lies about his dad being a pilot and having all these big houses. Everyone already knew what his life was like and that none of it was true. He always had tore-up raggedy clothes, shoes ripped apart… ”
Colt’s longest childhood friendship was with a boy named Joel who also lived on Road 25’55, which eventually got a real name, ironic at least where Colt was concerned: Haven Place.
“Nobody wanted Colt hanging around,” Joel says. “None of the kids liked him because he was constantly antagonizing people and he bullshitted so much that it was annoying. He once brought a rusty old key into school and said it was to his helicopter. I was like, ‘C’mon, man, I know that you and your mom live in this twenty-two-foot trailer just up the road. You don’t need to tell me you have a fucking helicopter.’”
Joel says that because of how Colt acted, “we’d wind up being good friends and then enemies, sometimes in the same day. I never knew what that meant, but from the time Colt was a little kid, my mom always said that he was going to do something crazy in his lifetime.”
Colt and Joel roamed the whole of the South End on foot and by bike. They explored the woods, built tree forts, and spent a lot of time playing army. “Colt was really into the Navy SEALs and special forces. He had a mentality like he was some kind of secret agent. He’d talk in code and he was always analyzing and plotting one step ahead.”
One of Colt’s quirks, says Joel, was the way he moved through the forest. “Whenever he’d run through the woods, he’d always take his shoes off and go barefoot. He said he was able to run better and be more agile that way.”
Joel vividly remembers stopping by Pam’s trailer when he was nine years old to see if Colt was home. “I knocked on the door and his mom answered with a shotgun in my face. That was pretty intimidating as a kid. After that, my mom was like, ‘You don’t need to be dealing with those people.’”
Neighbors on Haven tell a story from the same time, in the year 2000, when a Realtor and a contractor were preparing to build a home on the lot that backs up to Pam’s. The men were hunting for the property line markers and walked up to the trailer to ask if she knew where the corners were. According to neighbors, Pam’s answer was to grab her shotgun, fire it into the air, and chase them off her property à la Granny from The Beverly Hillbillies.
When running through the woods pretending to be Navy SEALs lost its edge, Colt and Joel began concocting real secret missions. The first mischief they got into was stealing cigarettes from their mothers. “Then we’d go hide out and smoke them,” says Joel. They then progressed to what they called “ninjing,” as in ninja-ing, stealthing through the woods and creeping up to neighborhood homes. “We’d go out at night and sneak around trying to find open garages,” he says. “We’d take soda pop and stupid stuff like that.”
Joel says Colt never worried about getting caught. “He was the same way in school when we’d disrupt the class, or on the bus when we’d start fighting or something. He didn’t care if he got into trouble.”
By the time Colt, Joel, Anne, and Kory were ready for the fourth grade, Camano’s brand-new Elger Bay Elementary was ready, too. They no longer had to bus out to Stanwood, but according to Anne, the kids continued to pick on both her and Colt. At times, she says, the teasing was so relentless that Colt escaped the only way he knew how—“He ran and hid.”
From Anne’s point of view, Colt had been fine up to this stage in his life. “He’d been a really good kid until the fourth grade. He’d do his homework and was a good student, especially for things he liked. If he took an interest in something he was all over it.” But then, she says, things changed. “Suddenly Colt became a troublemaker, a rebel. He’d stand up and start talking in the middle of class and the teacher would be like, ‘You need to sit down and pay attention,’ and he’d be like, ‘Uh, no.’ So he’d get sent out into the hall. It weirded me out, the way he just suddenly changed.”
PATTY MORGAN TAUGHT COLT in fifth grade at Elger Bay Elementary, though she says that for any discussion about his actu
al education, you have to look to lower grades because “he’d already checked out by fifth.” Morgan says Colt didn’t want to contribute and didn’t want to do the work in her social studies class (they were studying government that year). “Mostly he would just kinda slouch in the back and not participate. He was a hard one to read.” Morgan says she attempted to engage him because she felt he could do the work if he tried. That led to her most vivid and disturbing memory of Colton. “One time I was trying to encourage him to write his assignment, and I laid my hand on his shoulder. He suddenly jerked really violently and said, ‘Don’t touch me! Don’t ever touch me!’”
“I think there were some teachers that felt bad for him,” says Kory, though he sensed that some seemed to care less about the kids they’d identified as troublemakers, including him and Colt. What he and Anne and other students from their class agree on is that Colt seemed to follow the classic arc of the bullied becoming the bully. “He went from being picked on to being the one picking on anyone he could get away with it against,” says Kory.
“He wanted to be accepted and he wanted to be just like everyone else,” says Anne. Unfortunately for her, being like everyone else at Elger Bay Elementary meant turning on the fat girl with buck teeth. “He’d make fun of me, pull my hair, throw things at me, so the whole class would laugh. No one else liked me, so he thought that if he made fun of me, then people would like him. He turned my life into a living hell… I didn’t live all of that down until high school.”
Colt wasn’t able to raise himself too far up the pecking order, though. The kids may have laughed at some of his antics, but very few wanted to hang out with him. Whenever he did reach out and make a connection, it didn’t last long.
“He was the black sheep of the school,” remembers Mike Bulmer, who was one of Colt’s few friends for a while. Also from a broken home and a veteran of mother-son battles, Mike stole his mom’s van when he was only nine years old in an attempt to flee to his dad’s place on Camano. His father got custody in time for Mike to enter fifth grade at Elger Bay Elementary. As the new kid on the island, he didn’t have any friends, so he and Colt gravitated toward each other.