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A feast of flesh

I thought my grandson was safe with his mummy...


Published by: Laura Hinton and Sharon Ward
Published on: 28 June 2012

My house was littered with colouring books and toy blocks...everywhere I looked, there was more mess! In the centre of it all was my five-year-old grandson Kyle. He was marching up and down the front room, singing the alphabet to me.
‘Nanna,' he yelled, waving his favourite Star Wars lightsaber toy around. ‘I can do it all now!'
‘Well done,' I smiled encouragingly.
He cocked his head to the side and let out a cute little laugh. My heart broke and swelled with pride at the same time. His laugh... it was identical to his dad's, Justin.
But before the tears could come, I jumped up and joined Kyle with his alphabet chanting. ‘Right, let's start again,' I whooped, grabbing his hand. ‘A, b, c, d...'
To be honest, seeing Justin in Kyle was upsetting sometimes, but it was a comfort, too. I suppose in him, Justin lived on. My son had died four years before, but that raw sense of loss had never left. I could still remember that crushing pain in my chest when I got the call to say there'd been in an accident.
‘He crashed his truck into a concrete post,' his wife Debbie, 23, had sobbed down the phone. ‘He died at the scene.'
I was absolutely devastated. Justin had been just 25 - a devoted dad for just four months.
Weeks later, we'd held his funeral here in Tennessee. We'd put little bottles with our teardrops into his coffin. ‘Kyle was his world,' my hubby Gerry, 61, had wept, as we had stood beside the grave.
‘I just wish Justin could have spent a little more time with him,' I'd sobbed.
After his death, Debbie had struggled. I'd really felt for her. She was a single mum to Kyle, as well as his half-brother Nathan, then three. Even though Nathan lived with his father a lot of the time, it must've been hard juggling everything.
That's why I'd always helped out as much as I could. I'd almost become like a second mum to Kyle. I loved nothing better than taking him to the local park with a picnic, or playing hide and seek in the garden.
I'd looked after him now for four, five, six weeks at a time. But that night he was going to stay with his mum for a couple of weeks, so while he carried on reciting the alphabet, I packed his bag.
God I missed him! The house was too tidy without him, too quiet. When Debbie dropped him back at mine, we ran into each other's arms.
‘Nanna!' he squealed, as he tottered over towards me. The poor love wore braces on his legs. In fact, it'd been when he was staying with me that I'd noticed he had a problem.
‘He can't sit on his bottom properly,' I'd mentioned to Debbie one day when Kyle was still a toddler.
‘Hmm, you're right,' she'd said. ‘I'll call and book an appointment at the doctor's.'
It turned out a bone had been pressing down on his spine, causing him pain. So, when he was two, he'd had an operation to remove it, but he needed the braces to keep him stable.
His wobbly little legs only added to his cuteness, though. And they didn't stop him running around. ‘Can we go to the park please, Nanna?' he begged.
‘Of course,' I grinned. After hours running around the slide and swings, I rang Debbie to let her know everything was fine.
‘Come and speak to Mummy,' I said, motioning for Kyle to come over.
‘I'm not coming back,' was all he'd say to her. I was shocked.
‘Why would Kyle say that?' I pondered to Gerry.
‘He's having too much fun with his nanna!' he chuckled.
Maybe it was something to do with Earl, Debbie's new bloke. I'd never met him, but they'd been living together for the past month. Maybe Kyle was just upset at not being the centre of attention for once....
Later that week, I dropped him back at Debbie's. ‘Be a good boy,' I smiled, kissing his cheek. ‘Nanna loves you.'
‘Love you, too,' he grinned. After that, I didn't hear from Debbie for a while. She never returned my messages.
‘Do you think I've been too pushy?' I worried to Gerry.
‘Don't be silly,' he shushed. ‘You just care.'
I was still worrying when I got a call from Debbie's Aunt Joan. ‘We have some terrible news, Judy,' she croaked. ‘There's been an accident. It's Kyle.'
Gripping the nearest chair, my body shook. ‘He's dead,' she said. ‘The dog attacked him.'
That familiar crushing in my chest. ‘No!' I screamed, throwing the phone to the side. I didn't want to hear this, I couldn't hear it.
I buried my head in my hands. Gerry picked up the phone, spoke, and then fell silent. Soon, he'd wrapped his arms around me. ‘He's dead, love,' he whispered.
I started screaming and crying... the pain unbearable.
Somehow, we drove the 600-odd miles to Michigan where Debbie lived. I didn't even know Debbie had a dog - I needed answers right now. Apparently, the police were involved, so we went straight to the station.
‘Earl had a wolf hybrid and a Labrador,' the officer explained, as we were led to a private room. ‘They were kept in cages in the basement, but for some reason they hadn't been locked up that night.'
I gripped Gerry's hand. ‘So this... this wolf was able to sneak up into my Kyle's room,' I gulped. The officer nodded.
‘When Debbie got up the next day, she found his body,' he whispered, stumbling his words. ‘Kyle had been mauled.'
There were no words - I could only manage a whimper. My beautiful grandson had been torn to shreds in his bedroom. That should have been the safest place in the world for a child. But he'd been eaten alive.
‘I want to be sick,' I gasped.
‘How could this have happened?' Gerry spluttered beside me, thumping his fist against the wall. ‘Surely he screamed for help - why didn't Debbie and Earl hear him?'
Yes, that didn't make sense. Debbie shut herself off from us though, wouldn't return my calls. She made all the arrangements for Kyle's funeral, didn't seem to want us involved.
‘Please bury Kyle next to his daddy,' I begged on one message I left her. But she wouldn't listen.
In fact, the first time we saw her was at the service a couple of weeks later. ‘Judy, please don't be mad at me,' she croaked.
I was disgusted. How could she not think of our feelings at a time like this?!
So I said nothing, turned the other way. More than anything, I wanted to scream and shout at her, demand she tell me how she could have let this happen... but this was Kyle's day.
It was a time to remember and cherish him. But as his little white coffin was lowered into the ground, I made him a silent promise: ‘I'll get justice for you.'
As the weeks and months went by, his grisly death haunted me. It was the first thing on my mind in the morning, the last thing I thought of at night. I'd have done anything to swap places with him, to endure the pain of being eaten alive... but I couldn't.
Sometimes, I'd forget about it all for maybe half an hour. But then I'd find a Buzz Lightyear toy tucked away beneath the sofa, and the grief would all come crashing back. ‘How could they not have heard your screams?!' I'd rage.
As time passed, we learnt a lot of ugly things about Debbie. Rumours spread about how she was into drugs, how she'd left Kyle alone for days at a time, how she'd thought of him as a meal ticket.
Suddenly, my rose-tinted glasses were removed. Maybe it had been grief over losing Justin, my determination to support Debbie, that made me so blinkered. Now I saw her for what she really was.
The more I thought about it, the more I realised just how bad a mother Debbie had been. When Kyle had had his operation, she hadn't even stayed at the hospital overnight - I had. I'd always taken him for his physiotherapy, too. I'd put it down to her not being able to cope. Truth was, she couldn't be bothered.
‘And when he told her he didn't want to come home,' I wept to Gerry. ‘It's because he hated it there.'
A part of me felt guilty. I'd never really questioned how a mother could let her child go away for such long periods of time - I'd just cherished every minute with Kyle.
If only I hadn't been so blinded by grief, maybe I'd have seen the truth. Maybe I'd have saved my grandson.
It was a whole year before Debbie and Earl were arrested. It was only in court that we heard the full details of what happened that night. Apparently, they'd gone out to watch a movie, leaving him home alone. ‘I can't believe she did that!' I whispered angrily to Gerry.
When they'd returned, Debbie had put Kyle to bed and then smoked some marijuana. She hadn't spared a thought for the dogs, or the fact that they weren't in their cages. What kind of mother was she?! High on drugs, she'd passed out, so hadn't heard her son being mauled to death.
Then we were shown pictures of the mangled cage that Chase the wolf-dog had escaped from. There were teeth marks in the sides. I winced as I imagined them sinking into my grandson's flesh...
My poor, poor grandson had suffered more than 80 bite wounds from this vicious creature. His chest was crushed and his lungs punctured. He'd have been in unimaginable pain.
Worst of all, though, I could picture Kyle around dogs. So many times we'd come across them in the park. ‘I want to touch him, Nanna!' he used to squeal.
‘Be careful,' I'd chuckle, as he'd race over to a stranger's pet.
He would've tried to stroke Chase. Mummy should have been there to stop him.
We listened as neighbours spoke about how they'd always thought the dogs weren't being fed properly. Some had even thrown meat over the fence.
I felt sick. Those dogs were hungry - that's why the wolf had attacked Kyle. All that had been left of him was a battered, bloody torso after they'd feasted on his flesh. Sickeningly, some of his body parts were found inside the wolf after it was put down.
Finally, in April this year, Debbie Holland, now 30, pleaded guilty to involuntary manslaughter, second-degree child abuse, and accessory after the fact to a felony for involvement with marijuana.
Earl Dwayne Adkins, 35, pleaded guilty to owning a dangerous animal causing death, a charge similar to manslaughter. Now that evil pair each face up to
15 years in prison.
But I'd be lying if I said I've moved on, because I haven't. Every night, I lie awake imagining what Kyle must've gone through. I wish I could have spotted the signs that he wasn't being cared for properly. But all I can do is take comfort that he spent so much time with me.
I'm now fighting to get Kyle's coffin moved so he's buried next to his daddy. I will go through every court in the land until someone says yes - it's the only place he can be laid to rest. That's what most mothers and grandmothers do, they fight for their child. It's a maternal drive, a loving instinct. Something that Debbie clearly never had.

• Visit www.deservedjustice.com/kylehollandstory.html


Judy Finchum, 56, Fentress County, Tennessee, USA