When My Boss Was Murdered

Sometimes the unthinkable becomes reality and murder touches our lives.  It can hit us so unexpectedly that it’s like a sucker punch knocking us breathless. Such was the case with me in Roanoke, Virginia, in the wee cold hours of January 3, 1986.

When the phone rang at 4 a.m. that Friday morning I fumbled for it, still half asleep.  For a second I didn’t recognize the sobbing sounds coming from my boss’ secretary, Carolyn, on the other end of the line.  I had never heard her cry. She had always been such a cheerful person.  Then she stopped sobbing long enough to speak. “Wade, Tony is dead.” Continue reading “When My Boss Was Murdered”