Terror by Night: The True Story of the Brutal Texas Murder That Destroyed a Family, Restored One Man's Faith, and Shocked a Nation
AFTER I LOST my precious wire and family, along with everything I owned, the last thing I wanted to hear was that God would work all things together for good because I loved Him and was called according to His purpose. I wasn't angry with God. Not at first, anyway. But I did feel like He'd abandoned me. In the weeks following the brutal murders of my wife, Penny, and my two sons, Matthew and Tyler, and the arrest of my daughter, Erin, I entered into a time of spiritual and emotional darkness that I wouldn't have dreamed possible only a few months before. I felt as if the doors of heaven were shut and God was the One who'd closed them.
I couldn't understand that. I had dedicated my life to serving Him.
Despite some struggles with our daughter Erin and her choice of boyfriends, Penny and I had entered into 2008 very optimistic about the future. Soon after we were married in 1989, we'd started working with the youth in our church. That continued when we were at Daddy had suffered so many health problems over the past few years that on some level I think I knew his death was coming. But that didn't make it any easier when the time came. It just hurt so much, especially because it had happened so suddenly. I cried not only for the loss of my dad but also because I didn't get a chance to say good-bye, to say all the things a son needs to say to the father he loves before they part for the last time.
My one comforting thought in those moments was that I knew where my daddy was. He loved the Lord and had trusted Jesus Christ as his Savior many years before. I knew without a doubt that one day I would see him again.
I pulled out my cell phone and called 911. Then I called my wife, Penny. She had loved Dad, too, and needed to know that he was gone.
UNPLANNED EXPENSES
Even though funerals can be expensive, you don't really think about the expense when you lose loved ones. You want to show one last time how much you cared about them and how much you will miss them. You want them to have a nice funeral. It's not too much to ask.
We knew that my father had a small life-insurance policy that would cover his funeral costs, so we weren't worried about money. But when we met with the funeral director, we learned that my father had cashed in the policy without telling any of the family. There was no money to pay for his funeral.
Penny and I walked past a line of expensive caskets costing thousands of dollars each. We weren't poor, but we had only a few thousand dollars in savings. I felt a twinge of guilt as I said, "Could you show us the least expensive one you've got?"
The funeral director smiled and told us that he understood. He showed us a casket that cost only fifteen hundred dollars. But a service at the funeral home and the burial would be two thousand more.
"We can't afford that. Can't you go any cheaper?" I said, now feeling really guilty.
We spent some time looking at different options and finally got the price down to eight hundred for the casket and fifteen hundred for a direct burial with no graveside service. We would also hold the funeral at a church rather than at the funeral home.
Penny and I cleaned out our already small savings account to pay for my father's funeral.
CLEANING OUT THE APARTMENT
The rest of the week was a whirlwind of activity. My dad had been on a month-to-month lease at King Place, because he was thinking about moving to a different complex. Unfortunately, that meant we had only a week to clean out his apartment. Otherwise we'd have to pay another month's rent, and we didn't have the money for that.
So in addition to preparing for a memorial service, we had to clean the apartment, pack my dad's things, and try to sell them. We decided to hold an estate sale at the apartment on Saturday, the day before the service.
To say it was chaos at my dad's apartment that day would be a gross understatement. My sisters, Mary and Tina, along with Tina's three grown children, assisted Penny and me as we sorted through all my father's belongings, kept what we wanted, priced what we didn't want, set the items out for the sale -- which was running at the same time -- and cleaned the apartment room by room. To complicate matters, all of our children were there. Between our three, Mary's two girls, and Tina and her children, not to mention the people who'd come for the sale, it was standing room only in that little apartment. You could hardly move. That's why we were delighted when Penny's sister, Mandy, stopped by to see if she could help. When she saw the children running in and out of the apartment, she offered the perfect solution.
"Why don't I just take the kids over to my place for the day?" she asked.
Mandy lived in Greenville, so the kids wouldn't be too far away. And it would definitely make it easier for us to get our work done. We all agreed that this would be a huge help, so Mandy piled the kids into her car and took them to her house until we were finished with the sale.
I had no idea then, but that decision set in motion a downward spiral of events that would ultimately lead to the murders of my family.
THE FUNERAL
We held my father's memorial service on Sunday, February 24, at Grace Baptist Church in Garland, my father's church. He'd maintained his membership there even after he moved to Greenville. Because we had paid for a direct burial, there was no casket or viewing. Dad had been buried a day earlier at Williams Cemetery in Garland, in a plot beside my mother. For the memorial service, we set a few pictures of Dad on the Communion table. About 150 people filled the little redbrick church building.
Musically, it was a family affair. Music had always been an important part of our household. Penny was a member of the Southern gospel group called The Gaston Family Singers, and she could play gospel piano with the best of them. The children loved to hear her, and the sound of her piano filled our house daily. One of our favorite family activities was to stand around the piano and sing while Penny played.
As the service began, Penny played, and our sixteen-year-old daughter, Erin, sang "Come Morning" and "I Want to Stroll over Heaven with You." Later, my thirteen-year-old son, Matthew, and I played "Amazing Grace" on harmonica, and then my niece Courtney sang. Tyler, only eight, didn't take part in the service. He was too shy.
Pastor Allison brought a message from the Twenty-third Psalm. I don't remember many of the details; everything was such a blur. I do remember that he told some good stories about my dad. The service wasn't fancy, but it was a fitting tribute to a fine man. I went home that day sad but also happy that my dad was not suffering any longer and that he was in a better place.
IT'S DIFFICULT TO PUT into words how much my life changed in less than a year. If it were a vessel, in 2008 it went from full to empty, empty to shattered, shattered to restored, restored to full, and finally, full to overflowing. At the end of the book of Job, God restores Job and doubles his wealth. As I look back on all that has happened, I feel that I have likewise been doubly blessed. I am not wealthy by any means, at least not materially. But the Lord has poured out blessing upon blessing over this past year.
It's interesting that when God restored Job, He gave him twice as much material wealth as before. But He gave him the same number of children Job had at the beginning of the book: seven sons and three daughters. I used to wonder why the Lord didn't double the size of Jobs family.
But as I thought about it, I realized that He did -- because Job never lost his first family. Not really. They were dead, but they were with the Lord. So when God gave Job seven more sons and three more daughters, his family doubled. And I imagine that now they are gathered around God's throne as one large family.
Even though I have remarried, Penny, Bubba, and Tyler will always be a part of my life. They have gone on to be with the Lord, but they are far from dead. Often I recall the words Brother Todd spoke at their funeral: "Penny, Bubba, and Tyler are more alive right now than they were when they were here with us." That's true. And I look forward to the day when we'll all be together again. I don't know if there are musical instruments in heaven, but if there are, you can be sure that Penny will be at the piano. Bubba will have a harmonica and a guitar. As for Tyler, well, he'll probably be looking for a puddle to jump in or a rope to swing on.
I still go out to the cemetery to visit them. Recently Sonja and I found a small bronze statue, about a foot tall, of a little boy and his dog, riding in a little wagon. The boy and dog are both wearing floppy hats and goggles. It reminded me so much of Tyler and his chocolate Lab puppy. He would put that puppy in his wagon and pull him all around the yard. We bought the statue and took it out to the cemetery along with a few Hot Wheels cars for Tyler's tenth birthday. Sometimes I just have to marvel at God's providence in arranging a resting place for my family so near to where I would be living when I married Sonja. Even before I fell in love with her, the Lord was working behind the scenes.
As much as I loved my first family, I am also thankful that God brought Sonja, Blake, and Tanner into my life. As He did with Job, God has doubled my family. I lost a wife and two sons, and He has given me back a wife and two sons. Blake and Tanner remind me Miracle Faith Baptist Church several years later. During that time, I sensed God calling me to a broader ministry. I did some pulpit supply for local pastors, and the more I preached the more I felt that God wanted me to move in this direction. After I'd been preaching for several years, my church made plans to formally ordain me for ministry. They set the time of my ordination for April 2008.1 still wasn't sure if I was going to be a pastor or an evangelist. All I knew was that I intended to serve God.
I wanted my family to serve Him, too. When we moved out to our twelve-acre property in Alba, Texas, our neighbor and dear friend Tommy Gaston presented us with a split cedar log. On it, he'd inscribed our family name, "The Caffeys," in large letters. Below that, he added the Bible reference Joshua 24:15.
I knew the verse well. "As for me and my house, we will serve the LORD." I love that Scripture verse because in it, Joshua took a stand on serving God. I felt that since God took a stand for us when Jesus died on the cross, my family and I would also take our stand for Him.