I wanted to become apart of my defense because I am such a part of it. Obviously I’m going to bear the consequences so why not bear the responsibilities? – serial killer Ted Bundy on why he chose to represent himself in court.
When a man goes to prison, a lot of paperwork is prepared, many blanks are filled : height, weight, eye color, age. There is a blank marked Religion. When that question was asked of Ted Bundy, he had answered « Methodist », the church of his childhood. Florida State Prison had two Methodist ministers on call that night. Of the two, Bundy chose Reverend Fred Lawrence to pastor him through his last night on Earth.
Lawrence was surprised to be chosen by the nation’s most infamous serial killer; though he was a frequent visitor to death row inmates, he and Bundy had never met. And he felt a strange touch of pride. « I don’t know if one should be honored if Ted Bundy says your name, » Lawrence said later. « But I guess I was. »
Lawrence reached the prison by 1 A.M., when Bundy finished his last meetings with his lawyers, with John Tanner and his with, and with Jamie Boone, Carole’s grown son.
When Lawrence arrived, he talked briefly with the anti-death penalty crusaders Mike Radelet, Susan Cary, and Margaret Vandiver. They told him Bundy had been going through « a very public phase, » and ventured that he would be emotionally drained by the time he returned to his cell. « They predicted it completely, » Lawrence recalled.
Flanked by guards, Bundy and Lawrence left the visiting room and walked down the prison’s long central corridor. A man on death watch was moving, so the rest of the inmates were locked in their cells.
On Q-Wing, they descended a small stairway to the two cells facing the door to the execution chamber. Fred Lawrence settled onto a metal folding chair outside Bundy’s cell. Two guards sat nearby. Bundy had no chair, so he took the pillow from his bunk for cushion on the floor.
Ted Bundy knew he was about to die. This was the end. Fred Lawrence wanted only to give the man a few hours of peace, which he considered his duty as a man of God. He spoke gently by way of beginning: « Ted, tell me something about your life in the church growing up. »
Bundy closed his eyes and drew a deep breath; Lawrence soon realized the doomed man formed each answer in his head, shaped it from beginning to end, before he spoke his first word. When he spoke, it was in a low, sapped voice, and his memories were of Sunday services and potluck suppers and meetings of the Methodist Youth Fellowship.
From Lawrence’s beginning, Bundy took control of the conversation, presenting one last time the face of composure and keen intelligence.
They talked for more than an hour, but nothing Bundy said satisfied the unspoken curiosity in the pastor’s mind : What could make a man like this? « I don’t think even he knew why he was who he was. I don’t think he knew how many he killed or why he killed them. That was my impression, my strong impression. »
A guard approached the cell and asked if Bundy needed anything. The prisoner shook his head and mumbled, « No. » He was tired and withdrawn. About 3 A.M., he mustered the strength to place two telephone calls to the people who had supported him the longest. The first was to his mother. Her son’s confessions had been a terrible shock to Louise Bundy. « Like a blow right between the eyes, » as she put it. But now she showed only her customary composure. Over the phone line, she told Ted how much she loved him, and he answered that he knew how much he had hurt her. The confessions, he explained, had been his attempt to « make it right – to tell the truth. »
During the ten-minute conversation, Bundy became aware that someone was listening in on an extension. His anger flared : « Is somebody on this phone?! » he demanded. A guard’s voice answered, « Yes, Ted. You know I’m on the phone. » His temper passed as quickly as it rose.
He asked that his second call be placed to Carole Boone, and waited tensely as the number was dialed. A couple minutes passed. Something was wrong. At last, the guard said, « The other call you wanted to make it not going to go through, » and Bundy knew immediately what had happened – Boone had refused to speak to him. « His reaction was none at all, » Fred Lawrence remembered. Bundy simply asked to speak to his mother again. During this call, Louise said, « You’ll always be my precious son. »
Lawrence opened his little black book to a favorite poem, « Some Easter Morn, » and began to read.
« Do you really believe God forgives? » Bundy asked.
« Yes, I do, » Lawrence answered. « Because I have been forgiven. »
Bundy nodded. « Do you mind if I listen awhile on the bed? I can listen better. » And as Lawrence continued reading, the killer drifted off to sleep.
Seventy-five minutes later he awoke. It was almost time for Lawrence to leave. The pastor took his military Communion kit and blessed the wafer and wine. After the sacrament, they bowed their heads in silent prayer. « I don’t know what Ted Bundy did, but I confessed my sins, » Lawrence remembered.
Having witnessed the execution of Carl Shriner, Lawrence was able to describe for Bundy what would happen in the chamber. He would be strapped in, then offered a chance to speak, then the leather hood would fall over his face and the headpiece would be attached. He would hear the dull noise of the circuits being opened, and a second later the current would hit him. He should not fear pain.
Bundy listened with his elbows resting on his knees. Then he reached his hands through the bars, and Lawrence took them in his own. « And he squeezed for ten entire minutes, » the minister recounted. « He never said a word. He held my hands tighter than anyone had ever held my hands. The last four minutes, he raised his head and gazed into my eyes – still not speaking – just gazed intently. I didn’t see fear, or uncertainty. He just seemed to want to hang on a little longer before he disappeared. It was like holding on to a dead man. »
‘’Bundy was always surprised when anyone noticed that one of his victims was missing, because he imagined America to be a place where everyone is invisible except to themselves. And he was always astounded when people testified that they had seen him in incriminating places, because Bundy did not believe people noticed each other.’’
Ted Bundy photographed by his girlfriend during the summer. By this time, Bundy had been killing women for at least 5 years but led a seemingly normal life. Nobody suspected a thing.
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