Saturday, April 14, 2012

lie;lies;lies

#LiesLiesLies:
Exposing Casey and Surviving the smear

By
Amelia Noel Sobel
with
Myrah Nicole Young
Myrah Nicole Young
For our daughters.


Disclaimer
This book is the result of a months-long process of
gathering information and talking to online sources. Although
these sources have been verified in any way possible, the
anonymous nature of the internet makes it impossible for me to
say without any doubt that portions of these accounts are not
say without any doubt that portions of these accounts are not
dramatized or entirely fictional. Certain details have been
changed in an effort to maintain the safety of the individuals
mentioned. Details pertaining to identities of non-public figures
are fictionalized and not based on any actual persons or events.
This book is not an effort to defame or smear anyone, its only
intent is to inform. I believe in everything written here. I am not
and would not knowingly publish anything untrue.
All of the quotes in this book are added in the exact spelling,
punctuation, and context that they were originally recorded in.
No portion of this book is intended to serve as medical advice.
This book should not be used as a guide to any medical or
mental ailments.
Table of Contents
• Introduction [6]
Part I: Her Lies
• The Obsession [11]
• Always a Believer [15]
• A Fueled Fire [21]
• The Community of Hate [26]
• The Community of Hate [26]
• First Contact [31]
• Atypical Nazis [39]
• It was Someone Else [45]
• One Person to Blame [57]
• Stir-Crazy [63]
• Streaming Proof [69]
• The Leak [74]
Part II: Their Lies
• Fallout [79]
• Sudden Prophets [84]
• A Private Solution [89]
• The 1000-Tweets War [94]
• The $50,000 Lie [101]
• Aftershocks [107]
Part III: My Lies
• A Killer Ruse [115]
• An Unlikely Ally [120]
• Resurrection [124]
• Empathy [128]
Introduction
I stood in the parking lot of my employer, shouting on
the phone with one of the few reporters that had been
resourceful enough to find me on Facebook. I had been able to
avoid most of the media, but I had agreed to talk to those that I
avoid most of the media, but I had agreed to talk to those that I
thought were dedicated enough to make me feel guilty for saying
no. “What?” I asked yet again, the loud buzzing of the nearby
freeway drowning out her voice as she conceded, “Maybe we
should just text.” I nodded a rhetorical nod and prepared to hang
up, but as I moved the phone from my ear I caught her shouting
again, “Just one more thing” she shoved together, killing the
syllables, “Are you a supporter of Casey or a hater?”
I allowed a slight chuckle out as I answered without
much thought or debate, “Hater. I hate her.”
It was a response that would nag at me and my
convictions in my “moral compass” for weeks and months to
come, but it would not be the only thing to do so. The scandal
that would follow that day, January 5th, 2012, would become
the ugliest thing I had ever been involved in. I would come out of
it feeling filthy, used, but still full of the need to do what I had set
out to in the first place: tell the truth.
It is apparent to me now that the concept of truth is
something that we may have forgotten as a society. The Bible,
Talmud, and the Quran all have plenty to say about lying and its
inherent relation to evil. In the Middle Ages lying was a crime
punishable by death in both European and Far East cultures
alike. Even today, many countries have laws in place to penalize
those who speak not the truth, such as Germany’s extensive laws
against denying the Holocaust. But here, in the United States, we
seem to have lost our near-primal ban on lying in sacrifice of our
most intimately-held value: free speech.
Technically, lying is not against the law. Defamation is a
Technically, lying is not against the law. Defamation is a
tort, or civil offense, but only if you can prove that the lies cost
you any money. The extreme circumstances when we are forced
to be held to our “old standards” of the truth are surrounded with
warnings and procedural preparations to protect us from
ourselves. We have the right to remain silent, and we often take
it because we know silence is our only guarantee that we will not
lie.
We are a society of liars. Our capitalistic insecurities
compel us to do anything, by any means, to achieve that
impossible goal of monetary accumulation. Our troops fight wars
based on facts “too secret” for our government to tell us. Our
politicians are puppets of corporations and ideologies hidden
with fake smiles and empty promises. Our biggest liars of all, our
lawyers and our bankers, are our most successful and glorified
members. On every front lying is not just “okay” anymore, it is
encouraged.
So is it any mystery, then, that we all connected to the
Anthony family in such a way? After all, they were the epitome
of our “new standards” on the truth. Behind on their mortgage
and drowning in debt, forcing an unhappy marriage to avoid
asset-division, a teenaged mother eternally caught in her
sixteenth-year angst; deception after deception engineered to
keep the front of the “perfect American family” intact. As much
as we wanted to shame the Anthonys, our obsession with them
was based on our realizations, whether conscious or not, that
they represented the purest form of our New Standard
they represented the purest form of our New Standard
adaptions.
Perhaps, then, it is no mystery why this case has sent us
into such a frenzy. As we watched the Anthonys’ lies fall apart,
removing the illusions they had created and revealing the true
core of a deformed family dynamic, I believe we saw our own
lies fall apart, too. We saw what our New Standard really
meant, what reality those who believed in and followed the ways
of the Lying Society were eventually forced to accept, and many
of us did not like it.
We were sent into action by our unwillingness to accept
that this was our new normal. The protesters who gathered
outside the Anthony home, the crowds that stood vigil outside
the Orlando courthouse for the entire summer of 2011, and
those who, with no more physical venues to find one another,
turned to social media to proceed with their war’s next battle
were fighting for what they called “justice”.
Maybe this abstract idea that we called justice was really
our oldest ideal in disguise, truth. We wanted the truth, not just
about what happened to Caylee Marie Anthony, but about all
the things we had allowed ourselves to let the lies crawl into. As
an economy built on lying-loans crumbled beneath us and a war
based on fudged facts raged on we held our ground, we
demanded the truth on the one front where we thought we could
still be heard: our media; social media.

Part I:
Her Lies
The Obsession
The first time I can remember hearing the name “Casey
Anthony” I was watching as the same three photos of her
“partying” out in Orlando while her daughter was missing moved
their way across the screen over and over. They had been
circulating around the talking-head crowd for the last day or so,
an odd and shocking development in the search for little Caylee
Marie Anthony. The pictures would become infamous in the
media, and in my mind they would always be the first sign that
something here was just not right.
The saddest part of the Anthony case is that, in its infancy
anyway, it was not unusual in any way. Children go missing every
day, and in an overwhelmingly high number of those
disappearances, nearly ninety-eight percent, the parents of the
children are somehow responsible. Many times parents or
caretakers lie when they are confronted with the impossibly hard
task of letting their friends and family know that they failed to
protect their child from harm. In some cases, especially those
with media attention, this can lead to the construct of bizarre
kidnapping tales, possibly the only scenario where a parent can
walk away having taken little or no blame.
We have seen this scenario play out again and again in many
high-profile cases since the media adopted the philosophy that “if
it bleeds it reads”, which plays directly into the phenomenon. In
1994 a media blitz surrounded Susan Smith; a young single
mother who reported her two sons missing claiming that a “black
man” had carjacked her Mazda Protégé with the boys inside.
After a tearful plea on national television to her sons’
After a tearful plea on national television to her sons’
“kidnapper” she admitted that she had, in fact, pushed the car
into a lake, drowning her children. In 2010 a Portuguese court
released their official theory of the death of Madeleine McCann,
a British girl who disappeared in the country while on vacation in
2007. The court reported that they believed the 4-year-old died
accidently and that her reported kidnapping was a fabrication by
her parents. She has never been found.
Whether the tragedy was an accident or a murder, there are
several motives to cover-up the death of a young child.
Although, admittedly, the reasons to lie about a kidnapping are
far more explainable when the death was a murder, there are
reasons for parents to lie about accidents, as well. Perhaps they
fear they will face some kind of prosecution for neglect or
endangerment. Perhaps they simply cannot bear the thought of
admitting to themselves and others that they failed to keep their
child safe.
We have to attempt to understand that the death of a child is an
extreme circumstance. The emotions, the regret, and the guilt are
so intense that it can warp even the sanest of individuals’
behavior. I like to think of it in the sense of Special Relativity, a
set of exceptions to our common laws of physics introduced by
none other than Albert Einstein. According to Mr. Einstein, the
rules of time, the universe’s most basic fundamental, can be
broken and totally defied in extreme-enough environments. In a
black hole, time does not even exist.
So as strange as they may have seemed, the stories that Casey
Anthony told police about Caylee being kidnapped by “Zanny
the nanny” were still not quite odd enough to indicate that there
was something severely wrong with Casey or her family. After
all, if Caylee had died accidentally and Casey felt somehow
responsible, she may have entered a psychological black hole
where the truth did not exist anymore.
It was not until more details began to emerge that I, and the rest
of America, began to see that this was in no way a usual case.
Casey’s world of lies was not something that had come into
existence as a desperate coping method; it was her way of life.
Since as far back as anyone could account for Casey had lied
about everything she had the ability to lie about. She had lied
about having a job for the last three years. She had lied about
being pregnant, denying it until she was nearly eight months
along. She had lied about graduating high school. Friends and
acquaintances of the Anthony family would later come out and
say that Casey had been lying since she was old enough to
speak.
What made the Anthony case different from the rest was Casey;
more specifically, Casey’s lies. There was a certain sensational
outrage that could be elicited for every lie that the media could
catch her in, and she never stopped supplying them with untruths.
From July 16th, 2008 and the wild-goose-chase around
Universal Studios that Casey led investigators on before finally
relenting and admitting she did not work there, the media and the
public have been obsessed with exposing Casey’s lies.
Always a Believer
For most of Casey’s lies, we were able to catch her
right-handed. So when it came to exposing her biggest lie, what
Jeff Ashton would call her “nuclear lie”, we did not need the
same hard evidence that we had of her other lies. The pieces
were all there, and when you put them together with Casey’s
debilitating habit of lying, the conclusion was clear: Casey
Anthony murdered her daughter Caylee.
But for some, there was never enough evidence to say
that Casey was anything other than a good mother. It is hard to
say that there is something “wrong” with these individuals;
everyone has a right to their own opinions. However, their
opinion is in such contrast with that of so many others that it calls
a certain amount of attention and begs an explanation. What did
Casey’s supporters see that we did not?
Examining the groups created all over Facebook
dedicated to supporting Casey and her innocence reveals a
bizarre set of characters. I was never one of them, but I was,
nonetheless, curious about them. Who were these people? What
were their motivations?
In this alter-world of social media there are leaders,
founders that bring others together, just like in “real life”. But the
leaders online are in stark contrast to the leaders offline. Jeffery
leaders online are in stark contrast to the leaders offline. Jeffery
Carolyn was floor-salesman at a department store when
something about the Anthony case caught his eye. He was a
single father who spent a lot of his spare time online, where he
felt he had a good group of friends he had met through various
Facebook groups. From the very start his interest in the case
was a personal interest—in Casey.
Jeffery Carolyn thought that Casey was “the most
beautiful woman in the world the minute I saw her”. He admits
that his continued attentiveness to the case was in large part due
to his interest in Casey, but that was not the only reason he was
interested. Carolyn thought Casey was a good mother, a mother
who had tried to protect her daughter from a chaotic, abusive
family life. Unfortunately, Jeffery believed, she had not been able
to successfully do so.
Carolyn finally decided it was his duty to try to help the
woman who had infatuated him in 2009 when the state
announced they would seek the death penalty against Casey
Anthony. Something did not seem right to Carolyn; he felt Casey
was being persecuted. By the time July 5th, 2011, the day that
Casey’s “Not Guilty” verdict was read, Carolyn found himself a
member of the most successful Facebook group dedicated to
supporting Casey, the aptly-titled “Support Casey Anthony”.
The mission-statement of the group indicated a true
belief in Casey’s innocence:
“I support Casey Anthony because I believe the
“I support Casey Anthony because I believe the
media persecuted her before she was even
prosecuted. They 'painted' a picture of what they
wanted the masses to believe. They benefited from
high ratings, and the blame from day one was on
"Tot Mom" as the disgusting Nancy Grace
nicknamed her. I support her because I am confident
in her innocence, and because there was no motive,
and no evidence to convince me, a jury, and
thousands of others that she killed her daughter. A
daughter of whom she loved dearly. Caylee was
Casey's world, the only order in her world of chaos,
the only person that she knew 'truly' loved her. She
would have never hurt Caylee, ever. . .in any way!”
The group would attract close to 7,000 “Likes” in the
weeks and months following the verdict. Between July 5th and
August 5th alone the group went from 0 to 6,832 Likes. It
appeared that Jeffery Carolyn was not the only person out there
that had believed Casey was innocent now that she had been
acquitted. However, many of those new “Likes” were not
people who really believed in Casey’s innocence like Carolyn
did, but instead individuals that harbored a host of ulterior
motives.
In the internet community the term “troll” has its own
meaning. Typically it refers to a person who visits pages (either
on Facebook, blogs, forums, etc.) for the sole purpose of leaving
hateful and offensive comments. An old adage, and by old I
hateful and offensive comments. An old adage, and by old I
mean circa-2006 or so, warns us that if we “feed the trolls” they
only become more aggressive. This is a reference to the fact that
it seems all internet trolls have one motive: attention. These are
people who absolutely crave attention so intensely that the best
way they see to seek it is to annoy and attack others.
In the weeks following the verdict, the Support Casey
Anthony page attracted an unseemly number of trolls. The page
was littered with constant vile posts, many of them depicting
Caylee Anthony with duct tape photo-shopped over her mouth
or of the toddler in “zombie face”. Others refrained from the
disturbing picture-show, opting instead to spam posts with
personal insults on other members; namely, Jeffery Carolyn.
Instead of defending Casey, which had always been Jeffery’s
goal, he now found himself in the position of having to defend
himself.
That was when Jeffery Carolyn first met Ron Hinkley, a
man who had been posting in Casey-related groups for months.
He had one clear mission: to run a successful investigation and
discover Casey’s whereabouts. These dreams of being a sleuth
were not new or unique in Hinkley’s life. He was a newlyreleased
felon who had struggled with drug addiction when he
decided to quit his job to watch the trial in its entirety. Now that
Casey was released, all of his time was being spent following
leads that he hoped would bring him to her.
When Ron Hinkley created a private Facebook group to
share news from around the world he did not intend to focus
entirely on Casey Anthony. But he found himself spending more
entirely on Casey Anthony. But he found himself spending more
and more time on the support page and frustrated with the chaos
taking place there. He would invite many of those from the large
support group to join him in his private groups, and Carolyn and
other legit Casey Supporters jumped at the chance to once again
have a community not polluted and destroyed by trolls.
On Facebook there are three forms of groups: Public,
Private, and Secret. A public group is, as you could imagine,
public. Its posts, members, and photos are all open to be viewed
by not only members, but the general Facebook-going public as
well. Private groups are groups that can be searched for and
seen by those who know where to find them, but their posts,
photos, and full member lists are hidden. In order to join Private
groups, you must receive approval from the owner of the group.
Secret groups, the most private of all the groups, are, in essence,
invisible. The only way to know about or be a part of Secret
groups is to be invited to join by the owner of the group.
The median-level of security that was offered by Ron
Hinkley’s private group was just right for those repelled by the
Support Casey Anthony trolls. It was a place where members
could talk about Casey, share photos of her, and discuss the
details of the trial that did not make sense to them. One of the
photo albums in the group was titled “In Memory of Caylee
Marie Anthony” and contained a series of photos of Caylee,
many with her mother by her side. Most of the members had, at
some point, added a photo or two to the album captioned with a
message of support for Casey.
What strikes me most when I look back at the
conversations that took place within this group is that although
these supporters believed in Casey’s innocence, they still did not
accept the lies. Most of the members discussed their numberone
target, George Anthony. They concurred that George and
Cindy Anthony had encouraged Casey to lie, and that they
themselves were still lying about what really happened to Caylee
Marie. And in all truthfulness, they were right.
George and Cindy Anthony had done their fair share of
lying. Cindy had lied on the stand, perjuring herself to attempt to
take responsibility for Casey’s “chloroform” computer searches.
She had lied and obstructed the entire investigation, washing
Casey’s clothes the night she came home with the car that smelt
of death and purposely giving detectives looking for Caylee’s
DNA the wrong hairbrush. George had been more mild about
his untruths, but had nonetheless been caught lying about gas
cans that were sealed with the same duct tape found wrapped
around Caylee’s skull. Although the prosecution chose to accept
George’s story of Casey leaving the house with Caylee around
noon the day she was last seen alive, bloggers, private
investigators, and even the Anthonys’ own extended family have
long disputed this story as yet another lie to cover-up the truth.
There was no doubt about it: the Anthonys were liars,
and the goal most of Casey’s supporters had was to expose
those lies. And now that they had the safety of Ron Hinkley’s
private group, they were free to pursue that goal along with the
other they all hoped for: contact with Casey.
other they all hoped for: contact with Casey.
A Fueled Fire
On June 16th, 2008 I was graduating from school in
New York City. A month later I was finalizing the divorce on my
first marriage while planning my second. I was busy packing the
apartment in preparation of a cross-country move when I first
took note of the Anthony Saga. What was unfolding was horrific:
a missing little girl appeared to be dead and her mother was lying
about how she ended up that way. It was an upsetting and
frustrating case, but it was soon forgotten for me amongst the
many other interests being thrown my way.
On December 11th, 2008 I was finishing up my firstsemester’s
finals in graduate school. I now had one marriage
behind me with another to begin in May. I had moved to the
west coast, a 3,000-plus mile trek that had left my new
apartment still littered in boxes nearly six months later. I had
barely dropped my bag by the door when my then-fiancé
shouted to me without even turning his head from the television,
“They found Caylee Anthony.”
Yet again the case slightly nagged at me like not a lot of other
cases do. I was not a trial enthusiast or crime-watcher before
cases do. I was not a trial enthusiast or crime-watcher before
this case. In fact, I had very little interest in those sorts of things.
People that spent all day obsessing over missing children and
serial killers were all freaks. But this case was different. To know
that Caylee had been dead all along, and to know that it was her
mother who likely killed her; that was the extra push I needed to
consider myself officially interested in this case.
On April 13th, 2009 I was gearing up to finish a springsemester.
After a spontaneous decision on the part of me and my
fiancé, we found ourselves married, having eloped. I had been
keeping an ear in on the case ever since Caylee’s remains had
been found, but I did not really pay attention until I heard that the
prosecutors would be seeking the death penalty.
I wanted to ignore the case. In fact, I was ashamed of
my interest in it. I had seen the protesters in front of the Anthony
home and had remembered thinking they must have been nuts.
After the death penalty announcement I regularly kept up with
the case online, reading the periodical stories about pre-trial
hearings. But even with having stayed interested, I had no
expectations of becoming as emotionally and personally involved
in this case as I would become during the course of the fiveweek
trial.
On May 9th, 2011 I was at the hospital, rushing to get
out early when I noticed the nurses crowded around the small
television at the medication counter. I drifted subtly behind them,
wanting to watch but not willing to get dragged into the intense
conversation the women were having about the trial. After
catching a quick glance of Casey sitting weeping at the defense
catching a quick glance of Casey sitting weeping at the defense
table I went on with work, only hearing as I walked away “I
don’t believe that shit!” from one of the nurses.
Over the next few days I would understand exactly what
the nurse had been talking about. Jose Baez’s opening statement
claiming that George and Casey found Caylee dead in the
swimming pool and had covered-up the death was shocking to
almost everyone who had followed the case. After years of
insisting the babysitter, Zanny, had taken her baby, Casey
Anthony had finally changed her story and admitted to her lies.
But were we any closer to the truth?
A part of me knew better, but it could not control my
curiosity. I began searching for information on the case, wanting
to view the evidence and read the depositions myself. Despite
the fact that I was trying to fight it, I already cared too much to
simply accept the conclusions made on television. I did not want
the opinions of the media, who had peddled the sensational tale
of the single-mom who had literally partied on her daughter’s
grave for nearly three years. Through the entire trial I was
spending an hour or so each night reading everything I could on
that day’s evidence and testimony.
On June 10th, 2011 I had the day off. It was a Friday,
probably the first Friday I had the entire day free in years. I
watch plenty of television, but I had never been a viewer of the
kind of 24/7 "news" feeds like HLN. But I had all day and I
figured it was harmless. I would realize later that this was one of
the largest steps I made in becoming far too involved in this case.
If I had not chosen to watch the trial, specifically on that day, I
If I had not chosen to watch the trial, specifically on that day, I
don’t know if I ever would have become as attached as I did to
Caylee and the way she died.
I watched in horror as Dr. Garavaglia, the medical
examiner who had processed Caylee’s remains, explained the
way Caylee’s life ended. Her explanation of the duct tape being
placed over the mouth and nose of the radiant, beautiful little girl
that we had all hoped would come home someday was
something that moved me to the core. To hear her account of the
rainy day on which they finally found Caylee, triple-wrapped in
trash bags and dumped like trash in a swamp was devastating.
Caylee was so small, so helpless, and betrayed by her entire
family, who now all continued to lie to cover-up the truth. There
was not a single person in that courtroom that was there solely
for the reason they should have been: Caylee.
Although I would still not be totally convinced of her
guilt, that day was the day I made a conviction that I have kept
since: there is no way that your baby ends up dumped in a
swamp with duct tape on her face if you are fulfilling every
responsibility that as a parent you are legally obligated to. There
is no righteous or even understandable reason why Caylee had
ended up in that condition.
On July 4th, 2011 my husband and I attended a blockparty
near our home. I drank too much, something I never did
when classes were in session. I had a good time. However,
looking back, I wish I had known that it was the last night that I
would not be upset, in one way or another, over Caylee. I wish
when I had gone to sleep I could have known somehow, so
maybe I could have a “screenshot” of how it felt to still believe in
the truth.
As it was, I was awakened around eleven in the morning by the
chiming of my cell phone. New text message. Wrestling the thing
out from under me I read through the CNN news update:
“Verdict reached in Casey Anthony case. Reading is scheduled
for 1:15PM”. My heart began to beat quickly as I realized that
1:15 Eastern Standard Time was any minute now. I turned on
the television, it was on every channel. I watched intently as they
kept the camera fixed on the door that Casey was to walk out of
before she heard her fate. This was it; this was the end of this
circus, the final act. Little did I know that for me anyway, it was
only the beginning.
The Community of Hate
As soon as the verdict was read I was full of an immense
anger. For the last three years I had watched this case, waiting
for the conclusion, waiting for the truth. Looking back now, I can
see that most of what I thought was anger was actually the
frustration I felt at losing the one explanation I had come to
believe regarding what happened to Caylee Marie. I had
believed in the version of events that the prosecution had set
forward; I had accepted it as the truth. But now, as strongly as I
forward; I had accepted it as the truth. But now, as strongly as I
wanted to deny it, I was doubtful.
During the trial a Facebook group named “I Hate Casey
Anthony” had acquired impressive numbers, reaching 65,000-
plus members. When the verdict hit, the group became swamped
with new members and thousands of postings. At any given time
it seemed there were hundreds if not thousands of people hosting
threads on the page, discussing the case and their hatred of
Casey Anthony.
But the site was public, very public. Several news
organizations mentioned the page in articles in the weeks after
the verdict, bringing a considerable amount of attention and
paranoia. Apparently, I was not the only person there that was
ashamed to be so obsessed with this case. We needed a place
where we could speak openly, to say whatever we wanted
without the fear of judgment. By August a series of smaller,
private groups had sprung up just in time for the deletion of the
official “I Hate Casey Anthony” page, which was removed by its
administrators. There was a migration of “haters” into smaller,
more community-like groups. It was there that I would
experience some of the most intense hatred I have ever come
across.
We were a rag-tag bunch, a random assortment of
grandmothers, college students, and single mothers with only one
thing in common: hatred for Casey Anthony. We became a tightknit
group, getting to know one another well over our nightly
meetings. Every night for months we gathered on threads to
discuss the case and bond over our mutual mockery of the trial.
discuss the case and bond over our mutual mockery of the trial.
It was partially due to this satirical spirit that we gave fake names
to all of those involved in the case that we mentioned frequently.
Casey went by the names of “Skanky”, “the Skank”,
“NOTmom”, “Trunk Mom”, “Swampy”, and the most common
and vile of all, “Cuntsey”. Jose Baez was adorned with “Bozo”
and the jury took on the collective handle of “The 12 Pinellas
Idiots”.
Honestly, looking back, our refusal to name those we
had gathered to destroy should have been my first sign that
something here was not right. Our anger, the one that had been
so strong the day of the verdict, was no longer our primary drive.
It had been replaced with an increasingly cult-like hatred, an
obsessive stampede of individuals who wanted Casey Anthony
dead.
On September 18th, 2011, a thread was started in the
small hate group I belonged to, aptly named “Haterville”. Its
original query was one that would draw nearly 2,500 replies:
September 18th, 2011, 6:52PM: “how would you kill
skanky if you had the chance? (no way of getting
caught)”
The most popular answer was the articulation of nearly
every member’s fantasy resolve: kill Casey the same way she
killed Caylee. This would be a long-running theme in the
prospective events that many members claimed would take place
prospective events that many members claimed would take place
if they ever ran into Casey; a murder that featured the same
devices as Caylee’s:
September 18th, 2011, 9:04PM: “Wrap duck tape
[sic] around IT’s face then shove IT in a swamp!”
September 18th, 2011, 9:07PM: “force xanax down
her throat then leave her in a trunk for a week”
September 18th, 2011, 9:08PM: “better yet just duct
tape her in the trunk alive and let her fry”
Although I know this is not acceptable or healthy
behavior, I understand these fantasies. Basing an imaginary
“chance” to murder Casey on the horrific details of Caylee’s
murder reveals that these subjects were still deeply disturbed by
the way Caylee died. In their minds what happened to Caylee is
the most gruesome thing that could ever happen to a person,
hence their idolization of the act as the most painful and terrifying
death that they could put Casey through.
But along with those that seemed to simply be upset
there were many others that seemed to have real intent to hurt
Casey. In psychiatry we have a protocol to measure the
seriousness of a threat by a patient to hurt himself or somebody
else. Many times people will throw a generic ‘death threat’ out in
frustration: “I am so pissed I could just kill her!” This is
problematic, and should be addressed, but usually is not treated
as a legitimate threat to somebody’s life. The more tangible,
calculated omissions that feature real plans and real means are
calculated omissions that feature real plans and real means are
those which are taken as being a clear warning. For instance, “I
am so pissed I bought a gun and I want to shoot her when she
gets home from work” would be considered something that
would warrant immediate intervention by authorities.
In my opinion, the following “fantasies” are legitimate,
real threats to Casey Anthony’s life:
September 18th, 2011, 7:42PM: “I would duct tape
her to a ski lift and send her up for the weekend”
September 18th, 2011, 8:21PM: “give the
scamthony’s [group-slang for George and Cindy
Anthony] bullshit foundation a REAL missing person to
look for. they will never find the body”
September 18th, 2011, 8:36PM: “I agree, [Name
Omitted]! Duck tape [sic] her to an anchor and drop her
off somewhere where they will NEVER find her!”
September 18th, 2011, 8:37PM: “well what do you
know I just happen to own a boat”
September 18th, 2011, 8:41PM: “And I just happen
to own a glock ;)”
We were angry, and we had a right to be so. But already
things were beginning to change. This was becoming a
community of people that had bonded over their mutual desires
to kill a woman. A fierce secrecy descended on the community,
a vow of silence amongst our members to keep our
conversations totally private. There needed to be total trust
conversations totally private. There needed to be total trust
amongst our members if an honest dialogue were to continue.
Without saying so bluntly, we had all accepted the bizarre
allegiance we felt to one another. A fund was established via
PayPal by various members that would be used to bail out any of
us arrested while fulfilling what we thought our mission was:
justice for Caylee. It was not long before the observations that
we were an “army for Caylee” would spawn the title we would
carry until our fracture: Caylee Warriors.
First Contact
On July 17th, 2011 in the moments following 12am
Casey Anthony was released from the Orange County jail where
she had spent three years of her life awaiting trial. For many this
was the end of their interest in this case and the entire Anthony
saga. But for the media, this final curtain-call on Casey’s trial and
incarceration was only the end of Act I.
From the moment of Casey Anthony’s release every
media outlet was hungry for one thing: her first appearance out of
jail. The Orange County Justice Center was mobbed with
cameramen and media vans on the ground and a pack of
helicopters in the air. Everyone wanted to know where Casey
was going and what her “new life” would be like. The media
was going and what her “new life” would be like. The media
would be able to follow Casey as she sped away in a black
SUV to a local airport, but once she boarded a private jet
slightly past 3am she was gone from the public spotlight.
The jet Casey boarded belonged to Todd Macaluso, a
California attorney who once aided in her defense. It would
make various stops around the country, all of which were
designed to make it appear as if Casey could be in any of those
locations. In fact, Casey did not exit the plane until it made its
way back to Orlando nearly five hours later. As she left the plane
Jose Baez had photographers waiting on the tarmac to catch
pictures of her drinking a Corona beer and laughing. Baez would
try without success to sell these photos to the media in the days
following Casey’s release. In my opinion, this was yet another
stunt to try to make the media and public believe that Casey was
in Orlando. In fact, Casey would only spend two or three days
back in Orlando before heading to Santa Monica, California.
In the months after Casey Anthony’s release she would
meet with her mother Cindy via video chat. George Anthony was
also nearby, but he refused to speak with his daughter. George
had been severely hurt by Casey’s claims in court that not only
did he molest her, he also helped cover-up his granddaughter’s
death. He made a pledge to never speak to Casey again. In
September he would state on national television that he believed
Casey gave Caylee drugs to sleep, causing her death.
For Casey, this first contact with her mother was the first
time she had ever encountered Skype. Prior to her incarceration
Casey was savvy with social media, having accounts all around
Casey was savvy with social media, having accounts all around
the web. But this openness was what would come back to bite
her when the media found the infamous "party pics" and others
that had her in regrettable poses. Unfortunately Casey did not
recognize that she was beginning to make the same mistake all
over again.
I cannot say with any certainty what exactly was said or
done during this meeting, as I was not one of the two individuals
that were a part of it, but one detail I do know is that Cindy used
the opportunity to ask Casey if she wanted to wear something
that had been set aside for her three years ago. With Casey's
acceptance Cindy would send this sacred offering through
FedEx. Casey would leave California with a new accessory: an
ash-holder necklace with a portion of Caylee’s remains inside.
It could be alleged that Casey was making her video
diaries for her mother or family, but that assumption was ruled
out when she mentioned “mom” in third-person in her second
installment.
Casey’s new life in California was not long-lived. In mid-August
the court would rule that Casey would have to return to the state
of Florida to serve a one-year probation sentence on a checkcashing
charge that she had pled guilty to while awaiting her
murder trial. Casey would be confined to the state—and her
silence—until she had served her probation and was free to do
whatever interviews she could pitch. A year to wait; it was not a
death sentence, but it was a long time to make all those who had
funded Casey wait for their long-awaited payday.
Casey had bills to pay, many bills. She had no way to
Casey had bills to pay, many bills. She had no way to
support herself outside of jail. She had never been good at
staying employed before she gained world-wide infamy, it was
certain that she had no chance at providing for herself now that
she had gained the title of the “Most Hated Woman in America”.
So Jose Baez, the lawyer who had been by Casey’s side since
the day of her arrest in 2008, would arrange deals for Casey.
The first deal Casey Baez tried to barter for Casey after
her release was with Private Elevator Productions, a production
company most noted for its affiliation with the Jerry Springer
show. They offered Casey one-million dollars for her first
interview which was to be aired as a segment in which Casey
would also take a lie-detector test facing questioning on what her
role in Caylee’s death was. Of course, once the probation ruling
came down Casey was no longer available to fulfill this deal.
When threatened with a lawsuit for not complying with their
promise to "seriously consider" the offer, Casey’s attorneys
allegedly had a brief, yet sobering response: “Get in line”.
Luckily for everyone involved, the second deal Jose
Baez made for Casey directly after her release worked out just
fine. The deal was with TMZ, a celebrity-gossip publication and
television program famous for stalking celebrities and getting
those coveted “first” shots. But that detail really is not prudent
here, since the photos that TMZ would publish claiming they
were “candid” were actually posed. Casey had kept her long,
dark hair that she wore the entire trial in case a deal like this
were to be made. She only planned to change her appearance
were to be made. She only planned to change her appearance
once she was really in hiding.
Casey was flown to Ohio with her private investigator,
Jerry Lyons, where she was given an Ohio State University
baseball cap to attempt to convince people she had actually been
in Ohio since her release. TMZ posed the photos, 27 of which
would be posted, over the course of only one day; despite the
fact that they claim it was a “several day stake-out”. Casey wore
the same pair of loose-fitting jeans and flip flops, only changing
her shirt and hairdo for each “set” that TMZ posed. The most
bizarre attempt at making the situation seem candid was having
Casey browse through an Old Navy as the cameras stood just
out of the reflect-zone of the store’s front window.
It is unknown exactly how much Casey was paid by
TMZ to pose for their “candid” photos, but it is rumored to be a
quarter-of-a-million dollars. I believe TMZ thought that the
photos would become some kind of viral sensation. Oddly, they
seemed to have been all but ignored past their initial claim to be
the first photos of Casey. Many people discounted them as being
a look-a-like. Several accounts I have come across allege that a
look-a-like was involved, most notably by an attorney who
boasted his connections to Jose Baez on national television. He
claimed none of the photos were really Casey, a story I know to
be incorrect. However, accounts stating that some of the more
public shots were a decoy and the others actually were Casey
have come to me from reliable sources. In this scenario the Fake
Casey was used for the photos taken in the Old Navy to
maintain Real Casey's safety.
maintain Real Casey's safety.
Casey had received her cell phone from this same
private detective of hers that she prefers to call her “protector”
due to the fact that he spent a month or so after her release
following her everywhere in California as her personal
bodyguard. In her first video diary she states that she “would not
even have a phone if it weren’t for Jerry”. This name was widely
misunderstood as “John”. Lyons would pay Casey’s phone bill
for months, including ringtones and unlimited text messages, until
he became tired of Jose Baez’s promises to “pay him back” for
the charges. He was not the only man who was helping Casey
“get by”. When Casey left jail she began a strange relationship
with an older man who had been involved in several high-profile
cases in the past. Although she called her companion “Pops”, it
appeared as if it were a romantic connection.
With some money in her pocket Casey turned to her
lawyers for help finding a place for her to safely wait-out her
probation in Florida. Many people had come forward genuinely
wanting to help, including Stan Cure, a pastor in Palm City. He
and his family wanted to help Casey reconnect with God and get
her life "back on track". Many who have not engaged with
supporters of Casey may be surprised to know that a host of
people came forward wanting to take her in or help her
financially. But Casey could not stay with just anyone. Casey
was no longer a typical human being; she was a giant paycheck
for anyone who could sell insider information on where she was.
The person who would be chosen to house Casey had to be
entirely trustworthy, a true stand-up citizen with nothing but good
entirely trustworthy, a true stand-up citizen with nothing but good
intentions. That person was Stan Cure. But of course, Casey
disagreed. She wanted to live further south with Pops in West
Palm Beach. The small, beachside city would be where Casey
would settle, although she still maintained strong relationships
with the entire Cure family.
Casey came to her new home in late August. She was
given her own bedroom, bathroom, and was able to swim in the
backyard’s pool whenever she liked. In mid-September Casey
grew tired of her long, brown hair. Casey had cut and dyed her
own hair frequently before she was incarcerated; now that she
was free she continued the practice, transforming her long, dark
locks into a short, blonde look. Some might be surprised to
know that Casey has not been to a stylist since leaving jail, all her
post-inmate hair styles are her own creation. Casey was also
enjoying her new gifts from various supporters—her new iPhone
and her camera, a professional-grade Cannon. But Casey had
one toy that by far outweighed the others; after all, her new
laptop was her only connection to the outside world.
It is November 28th, 2011 that Ron Hinkley gets tired of
the members of his private Facebook group doubting him when
he tells tales of Casey’s secret life in hiding. He posts a photo of
Casey with blonde hair, draping the image in a large tag for the
group and only leaving it published for several minutes. After he
deletes it he leaves a message on the thread:
November 28th, 2011, 5:14PM: “Believe me
November 28th, 2011, 5:14PM: “Believe me
now???”
The photo’s posting is the climax of a weeks-long feud
Hinkley has been carrying on with other supporters who have
cried foul on his stories about Casey. His accounts of her
activities would have it that she was attending church and dating
an older man, both pieces of information that ended up being
factual.
After the photo is up briefly then deleted members of the
group discuss it in great length. Many continue to assert that it
must be fake—there is no way Ron Hinkley has any contact with
Casey Anthony. But for those who immediately accept its
validity the importance is on interrogating Hinkley on where it
came from. Unfortunately, their requests for a straight answer are
always met with the same inconclusive response:
November 28th, 2011, 5:39PM: “Wait where did this
come from”
November 28th, 2011, 5:39PM: “how did it get to
you then?”
November 28th, 2011, 5:40PM: “I have a source.”
Atypical Nazis
Atypical Nazis
I have never played team sports. I have never been a
racist. In fact, I was a Jewish vegetarian who lamented football
when I found myself a leading member in Haterville. I was an
unlikely candidate to become vocal in a hate group. Yet, I was
not the only one that you would not expect to be there. Most of
the members spending hours a day spewing hatred in these
groups were those who you would least expect.
More than half of the members of Haterville were
women. Of those women I would estimate that all but a few
were mothers or grandmothers. I was probably one of the
youngest members there, although several young men were
founding and controlling members.
The group had been created by a young man who held a
corporate job for which he traveled frequently. His interest in the
case had peaked during the trial, when he would catch up every
night on that day’s developments from his most recent hotel
room. He had started the group as a place to come and hate
Casey, but also as a place to remember Caylee. The first album
to be added to the group was named “OUR Precious Little
Angel” and featured an array of photos of Caylee. Possibly the
only difference between this album and the album in Ron
Hinkley’s support group was the fact that Casey was nowhere to
be found. Members who added photos had taken the measure
of cutting Casey or Cindy out of every single one of them.
We called ourselves an army and considered ourselves
warriors, but that was not the farthest extent of our militaristic
idolizations. We ran what we called “operations”, going in small
groups to support pages and “spamming” them with angry
messages. Frequently we would ask for “back-up” with these
missions, clinging to our most sacred ideal: power in numbers.
We felt that together, as a body, we could make a difference of
some kind.
Because of my history with writing I was chosen as the
member to write proto-type letters to authorities to urge for
federal prosecution. Although the “real” letter was much more
serious, I sent the below letter to Attorney General Eric Holder
in October:
Dear General Holder,
When you were first appointed to this office I was
quite upset. After all, how could a man who once
professed that terrorism has no definition be the
chief of discipline in a country fighting two wars on
terrorism? Sadly, my feelings about your
appointment remain the same today.
However, since I know that your boss is intrigued by
making deals (dirty or not), I thought it would not
hurt to propose one to you: me and anyone who will
listen will forever hold you in high regard if you
listen will forever hold you in high regard if you
make an acknowledgement of the injustice carried
out in Orlando on July 5, 2011 when a woman who I
do not name was found Not Guilty of murdering her
daughter, Caylee Anthony.
48,000 citizens, including myself, have signed and
sent a petition to your office asking you to try
Caylee’s mother in federal court. While I am
discouraged by the actual legal hurdles surrounding
that ambition, I know it is more than possible for you
to in some way recognize a murdered toddler that
has been left without justice. A statement from your
office recognizing our hard work collecting
signatures in an attempt to do what our courts could
not would be something that at least 50,000 voters
would not soon forget they owe you for. And hey,
let’s face it, it is looking like that is something that
your boss may need in 2012, right?
Terrorism might not have a definition, but I believe
that you still concur that murder does.
Sincerely,
Amelia Noel Sobel
The letter was one of many, but it was this particular
letter that would bring to my attention an interesting trend. As
letter that would bring to my attention an interesting trend. As
soon as I posted this on the wall of Haterville it was flooded with
political comments. Politics had been a subject we had thus far
agreed to stay away from, but apparently I had inadvertently
broken that oath. Now, for the first time, I saw the true political
views of the other members and without much surprise observed
that most of them were conservative.
A conservative political philosophy is a result of a
generally more authoritarian attitude. The theory of the
“authoritarian personality” dates back to the 1950s, when it was
introduced in a Freudian context as being the result of a
repression of bodily and other primitive urges within the id by a
strict alter-ego. Those who are more authoritarian tend to be
more superstitious, partake often in stereotypes, and often
project their personal failings onto irrelevant people. In essence,
the authoritarian personality is all about control, whether it be
over his own urges or the behavior of those around him.
So then it did not shock me to realize that most of those
in Haterville classified themselves as Republicans, members of
the United States’ leading conservative political party. We were
those who trusted and believed in the law’s strong-hand. We
were those who supported the death penalty, whether it be for
murderers or those who otherwise hurt children. For us, the
verdict had been a personal travesty because it called into
question our fundamental beliefs, our trust in the law. We had
lost all control when that verdict came down, and here we were
with the chaotic results.
Following my curiosity with more research, I came
Following my curiosity with more research, I came
across the prudent fact that authoritarian personalities tended to
be over definitive when it came to promiscuity. This was
definitely true in Haterville, where most of our snarky nicknames
for Casey were centered on our belief that she was a “slut”.
During the entire investigation and trial the media had played-up
the idea that Casey was a sexual predator out to seduce every
man she could. It was true that Casey had been sexually involved
with a good number of men for her age, and she was not and
had never been married. But statistics about the behaviors of
young, sexually-active females in the United States suggests that
Casey’s sexual exploits were common, typical really.
My interest also peaked at the realization that the
projectivity trait seemed active in most if not all of us. The
grandmothers and mothers were there because Caylee was a
representation of their own grandchildren. Many of the men were
there because Casey was a representation of an ex-wife or
girlfriend. And I, along with others, was there because for us,
Casey embodied the one person we hated more than anyone
else: Mom.
It was not hard to see for those who knew me. My
husband had brought it to my attention again and again, pleading
that I stop spending hours online and instead speak to a therapist
about what appeared to be the resurfacing of my “mommy
abused me” issues. I knew he was right. I knew that what had
dragged me in about this case was a mother’s betrayal of her
daughter’s love. At one point in my life, however distant it
daughter’s love. At one point in my life, however distant it
seemed now, I was Caylee. I was a child, an abused child, and
my frustrations at being ignored by every adult I reached out to
for help became the driving force behind my desire to be the
unheard voice of Caylee Marie.
It was around the time that I began to realize our
collective issues that another authoritarian trait disrupted the
group: our tendency to be superstitious or paranoid. Sometime in
October a woman that had been posting in the group for months
was “outed” as working for NBC. Members were outraged,
asserting that she had been in the group simply to find
information on Casey. Looking back this incident would seem
ironic to me. The moment Casey’s first video diary went viral the
mainstream media would begin a mad-rush to become part of
the tight-knit world of social media that had been the stage for
the private incubation of a very public story. I am sure that many
media outlets, surely NBC, had wished they had been clever
enough to be monitoring the Casey Facebook groups.
It was Somebody Else
By Myrah Nicole Young
Myrah, a Casey supporter, answers the question of what
the supporters saw that those convinced of Casey’s guilt could
not:
not:
July 15th, 2008 marks the day that Casey Anthony’s
name became a staple in media outlets all around the country and
world. Quickly labeled “Tot-Mom” By Nancy Grace, her name
would be one that none of us could ever forget. Initially, the
media “painted a picture” of Casey to all those interested in
viewing. Ms. Anthony was depicted as a young, selfish, party
girl who appeared to be heartless and had apparently “lost
track” or not reported her daughter Caylee missing for thirty-one
days. Caylee was finally reported missing by her grandmother
Cindy Anthony five weeks after last being seen alive. Conflicting
reports would come out about Casey’s ability as a parent.
However, anyone who knew Casey during the relevant time
would describe her as a fantastic mother.
The drawing popularity of Casey Anthony and her
missing daughter in the news would bring a massive amount of
gatherers. Anyone who wanted it would have access to all of the
evidence and relevant documents pertaining to the case as they
became available to the public largely due to Florida’s “Sunshine
Laws”. All the information was right at the public's finger tips, a
mere Google-search away. Most people who have reviewed this
information have most likely come to the conclusion that Ms.
Anthony has not been forthcoming with "facts", at least to the
media and authorities. Instead, she has done a rather good job of
staying mum and out of media attention, other than her legal
battles, since her release from jail on July 17th, 2011. Her
silence, in part, has added to the circus-type ideas and theories
surrounding her daughters' death.
Casey's initial police statements proved to be false, and
are essentially what she served her time for. During the trial for
the murder of her daughter, her close friends and family spoke of
numerous lies she told them. It became clear that Casey was a
habitual liar, and it was done so well and in such complexity that
it did, in fact, appear to be second nature to her. It was
surprisingly common knowledge that Casey was a liar to those
that knew her well. The process of deconstructing all of her lies
would prove to be quite complex, depending on what theory you
believe, and who of which if any of the key characters involved
you deem credible.
The Anthonys’ dynamics speak for themselves, Casey
was taught to manipulate and lie. She learned through and from
her childhood that reality, to her, was negotiable. The truth was
not known to her often, and so she created a world in which
everything was better than it really was. Her lies depicted the life
one might say Casey wanted for her and her daughter. She
described, with lies, a life not just where she was an
independent, successful, happy single-mom, but a life where she
and Caylee were always safe. The lies she told, generally, never
hurt anyone and when looked at closely, each lie is really an
example of things that Casey wanted to believe were actually
true.
It is not hard to imagine how and why there is a large
amount of people who can relate to the situations that Casey
amount of people who can relate to the situations that Casey
described about her childhood. I stand by the fact that the
people that can relate to Casey’s childhood are more
sympathetic, and also more prone to side with the different
theories that have been thrown around social media sites for
years as possible scenarios for Casey’s innocence. A person
who has experienced a traumatic experience while in
adolescence grows up in an entirely different world than a child
who was never exposed to such events. In a sense, a person's
childhood almost always molds them into the adult they will
become. If a child was taught to lie, to keep things covered up,
to function as if life were perfect, why wouldn't that said child
carry that lesson into adolescence and then their adult years?
This exact scenario is happening in many different ways, every
day, all around us. It is my opinion that this is relevant and true
when it pertains to Casey's journey through childhood and
adolescence. She was continuing to function the way she knew
best, the way she was taught, as if nothing had ever happened.
Dissecting Casey’s “lies” has proven to be a task not
many can complete. The chore of analyzing the different theories
that have been tossed around has also proved to be a job
worthy of needing a flow chart. There are a variety of separate
theories as well as some that have evolved into others as the
case progressed. There is a great deal of compassion and
empathy felt towards Casey and her situation by those who
believe in her innocence. Some of the theories are somewhat farfetched,
and others strangely acceptable.
It is important to note that almost every Casey supporter
It is important to note that almost every Casey supporter
when asked to explain or defend their belief in Casey’s
innocence will start with the media’s impact on the case. It is
strongly believed that the media played the primary role in the
initial hatred created in regards to Casey.
The "party pics" of Casey are a highly talked about topic
amongst supporters. I have yet to encounter one supporter who
is a fan of Nancy Grace in any way. It is on her program that
most of the public got to see pictures of Casey out and about, at
parties, nightclubs and alike. However, if you look back at all of
the photos that were circulated they were taken over several
years. It is noticeable that Casey's appearance would change
drastically in each picture, hair color and hair lengths being a
relevant and noticeable appearance-change. It was programs
like Nancy Grace that would want the public to believe that
these pictures were taken during the 31-days that Casey failed to
report her daughter missing. The media's desire for shock-value
has certainly played a part in not public opinion; in this case it has
and will continue to affect everyone's life involved from family
members, witnesses, potential jurors, legal teams, etc. When the
media is so actively involved in an ongoing case it enrages
viewers, and leads to some very aggressive opinions.
Unfortunately, media does not always have all the details or the
accurate accounts of different events, so instead "fill-in
information" is shared, and it spreads like wildfire.
Initially in Casey’s first statements to police, she stated that she
was conducting her own investigation into the “disappearance” of
her daughter. It was Ms. Anthony’s own accusations that would
her daughter. It was Ms. Anthony’s own accusations that would
point police and the masses at that time, in the direction of a
“Zanny the Nanny”. This is when the first theory of Zanny the
Nanny would emerge among supporters. It was at this time that
Casey’s allegations would then begin to be used as tools to form
and speculate theories as to her innocence amongst the few that
chose to support her at this time. In the theory of Zanny, Casey’s
nanny, Zenaida Fernandez-Gonzalez, who was described as a
young, attractive female whom Casey allowed to babysit Caylee
often. At one point in Casey's "story" she was depicted as an
angry nanny for a number of numerous possibilities and was
alleged to have taken Caylee from Casey to “teach her a lesson”,
and or to “protect” Caylee. She was also described as an illegal
citizen who was impossible to locate. Some supporters still
promote this theory with the idea that perhaps the “Real Zanny”
is still out there, and had in fact fled the area either before or
shortly after whatever said incident took place. This theory is
unique in the sense that supporters who originally believed this
theory have somehow come to accept other explanations as time
went on and more information was presented to the public.
The next most popular theory that supporters tend to
side with is that Caylee suffered some sort of an accident. There
are a few variations in what type of accident, and who would be
to blame for the accident. The most widely-accepted theory
believed by supporters is an accidental drowning. Other
supporters tend to believe that perhaps Ms. Anthony was using
some sort of drug or chemical to put Caylee to sleep, and that
some sort of drug or chemical to put Caylee to sleep, and that
she accidently gave her too much or the wrong mix and Caylee
never woke again. What is interesting about this theory is that
despite the fact that administering any type of chemical or
medication to a child with the purpose of intentionally "knocking
said child out" let alone a child under the age of three, is
somehow accepted by them as an "accident".
In the “Accident Theory” there is very little speculation
about what may have happened after the believed "Accident(s)"
took place. Most supporters at this point, turn to "other(s)" being
responsible for the events that took place with Caylee after her
death. It is almost universal that no matter what theory a
supporter believed, few, if any believe that Casey took part in
any of the events leading up to the discovery of Caylee's remains
in the woods nearby the Anthony home.
The third most popular theory amongst supporters is the
implication that George had participated if not caused the death
of little Caylee. The different accusations and claims by
supporters would range from very little involvement, to acting
alone and being the only person who can answer to the events
that happened that day. On the lighter side, a group of
supporters believe the theory that George was only responsible
for finding Caylee’s lifeless body in the pool, and then took it
upon himself to "cover up" the accident, and hide the body to
"protect" Casey. Many supporters still strongly feel that George
should be “brought-up” on charges stemming from his possible
involvement in the death and the disposal of her body.
Other supporters believe that George was sexually
Other supporters believe that George was sexually
molesting Caylee, and in that event somehow took her life, and
proceeded to blame Casey. It was then that he is said to have
offered his assistance and act as the savior by "fixing" the
problem that he would have at that point made Casey feel
responsible for. George Anthony's past involvement as a law
enforcement officer seems to be a clear indication to the
supporters who believe this particular theory that he would be
rather capable of going about a cover up with much success. It is
also at this point in the theory that some supporters begin to
believe that it was always George's intention to point law
enforcement in the direction of his daughter, implicating her in
Caylee's death, starting with George's first contact with Law
Enforcement when they first pulled up to the Anthony home on
July 15th, 2008. Supporters were not alone in this belief; it
would be this same scenario of Caylee’s death that Casey would
tell psychiatrists when initially interviewed back in 2008.
Some other, less-favored theories would be somewhat
more far-fetched and less realistic than the others proposed and
widely accepted by supporters. This leads us to the man who
discovered Caylee's remains. Speculation over Roy Kronk's
involvement and the unusual circumstances surrounding his
discovery of Caylee's remains was something brought up by
Casey’s defense team again and again. Many supporters have
said they believe that Kronk recklessly tampered with Caylee's
remains and was just after fame and the reward money that was
being offered at the time for the recovery of Caylee. Kronk has
denied all of these claims and, in fact, filed a host of defamation
denied all of these claims and, in fact, filed a host of defamation
suits against those alleging these accusations. Interestingly,
opening statements made by Baez during the trial should have
relieved Kronk of any guilt, as Baez stated that Caylee had
accidentally drowned in the family swimming pool on June 16th,
2008.
Another theory slightly discussed amongst supporters is
that Casey had involved herself with some not-so-good people,
perhaps people involved in the drug or human sex-trade
businesses. There were several individuals who relentlessly
insisted that Casey was “pimping” Caylee as part of a child sexring.
Others simply alleged that Ms. Anthony made pornographic
films and was involved in some kind of predicament involving
that venture. It is theorized that perhaps Casey had stolen from,
made promises she could not keep, or owed money to these
individuals and Caylee was the victim in their act of vengeance.
But the grand explanation for Casey’s behavior, the
accusation that her father George molested her, was all merely
speculation in and of itself despite the jail house letters which
outlined some forms of sexual abuse, and of course opening
statements made during the beginning of the trial by Jose Baez.
That is until Jan 11th, 2012, when Judge Belvin Perry unsealed
the psychological evaluations prepared by Jeff Danziger and Dr.
Weitz. Casey Anthony pages all around were swarming with
posts, comments, and fueled with anger and nonsense
encouraged by trolls and alike. But supporters were enthralled,
finally proof from professionals that Casey was not a sociopath,
finally proof from professionals that Casey was not a sociopath,
and was proven to be a "normal" young woman by all accounts.
Accompanying many of these theories is a deeper look into why
some of the actions committed by the people involved too place.
Why did Casey act the way she did? A more intrusive look into
Casey's childhood and more information on George Anthony
seemed to be a topic that peeked many of the supporters’
interest. For years now, individuals in the support groups have
discussed and tossed around motives and explanations for
Casey's behavior during the infamous “31-days". It is interesting
to note that not one supporter that I have come a crossed
believes that Casey had any motive whatsoever to kill her
daughter. This is the number-one reason why so many have
looked at others being responsible, and also sought an
explanation as to her behavior during the 31-days.
After the release of the psychological evaluations that
took place shortly after Casey’s initial arrest in 2008, more
insight was being allowed into the different theories believed by
people all around the internet. Her recollection of the events on
that morning clearly indicate that she believes her father, George,
was more involved in Caylee’s death than the state or the
defense proposed during the trial. If Casey suffered abuse from
her father, one can assume that the fear of exposing him would
leave Casey to be left with the other option: lie and pretend
everything was okay. Nowhere in these interviews did she ever
say that Caylee had "accidentally drowned" and certainly not on
her watch. The fact that after whatever events may have taken
place that day she was able to return to her life as if things were
place that day she was able to return to her life as if things were
"normal" was nothing new to her. I think that there are a small
number of people who can relate to or at least see this as an
acceptable explanation for the infamous "31 days" and these
particular supporters chose to believe Casey’s statements from
the psychological evaluations.
There is a segregated group of supporters who have
made it their mission to dissect the psychological evaluations and
offer documents showing proof that Casey had a reasonable
explanation for her behavior. Most of these supporters would
share stories of their own personal struggles with molestation and
how it had an effect on different aspects of their own lives. It
seems to be pretty common knowledge that people who have
had similar experiences feel that Dr. Weitz’s and Dr. Danzinger's
statements in the depositions concerning her evaluations were
spot-on. It could be easily believed that Casey would have
experienced a state of shock after whatever events happened;
possibly continuing her life in denial, and pretending as if nothing
had happened, just as she had learned by hiding the sexual abuse
she had experienced for almost a decade. This happens to
people all the time, all around us.
Those who believe in Casey’s innocence, and who also
believe that George played a key part in Caylee’s death have
suffered from sexual abuse in their own lives and can sympathize
and relate to her behavior. These individuals also believe that
they can see another side to George. Seeing evil in an average
man does not come easy for the typical naive citizen. It takes
someone with insight who perhaps has experienced similar
someone with insight who perhaps has experienced similar
events in their own life to be able to see through the hypocritical
façade that a man capable of these accusations would present to
the world as truths.
Without hearing first-hand from Ms. Anthony about the
events that led up to Caylee’s death, the events that took place
directly after, and up until the discovery of her remains, her
supporters will still stand firmly behind the theory they believe to
be true. Many supporters have and continue to deal with verbal
abuse, and in some rarer cases physical abuse, from friends,
family, and even strangers over their belief in Ms. Anthony's
innocence. Casey has a large number of supporters who truly
love her and genuinely care for her safety. Supporters who wish
she would be given the chance to live her life, a right that she has
earned. Casey had her trial, and she served her time. Supporters
urge you to, without persecution or preconceived judgment in
your heart, to look at the real truths, the real facts, and see past
the “painted picture” of “Tot Mom”. Once seeing past that,
once seeing Casey Marie Anthony for who she really is, it is
eerie how the pieces will fit if you just open your eyes, open your
mind, and accept the possibility.
One Person to Blame
On October 8th, 2011, Casey Anthony was deposed
via video conference. She was asked 57 questions regarding her
via video conference. She was asked 57 questions regarding her
statements during the investigation into Caylee's disappearance
that had implicated Zenaida Gonzalez-Fernandez, the Florida
woman who was now suing her for defamation. Casey appeared
in a tee shirt, baseball cap, and large sunglasses. She wore a
long, black wig underneath the hat to hide her new blonde hair.
She would invoke her Fifth Amendment right against selfincrimination
to avoid answering 55 times. The actual video
would stay sealed, but descriptions of its contents would emerge
from the tweets of those that had been present. In November a
full transcript would be released.
In Haterville the video was big news. Many members
thought it was a chance to hear the truth, that perhaps Casey
would explain things more. It was not a real surprise to me that
she elected to stay mum; she had too much to lose if she spoke.
But the response to her silence was a continued and collective
anger. Once again I found the threads in Haterville focusing on
the “bottom line” of the entire thing: Caylee’s death.
Every person who described themselves as a Casey
“hater” seemed to agree on one point: she should have been
convicted of murder. You would think that this vocal opinion
would be based in their belief in the prosecution’s case, but in
reality few actually accepted the theory presented in court as the
truth. Few people believed that Casey had used duct tape to kill
Caylee in a premeditated murder.
The main theory that seemed to be accepted amongst those who
hated Casey was that she had given Caylee drugs to sleep. We
called it the “trunk theory”, the idea that Casey frequently gave
called it the “trunk theory”, the idea that Casey frequently gave
Caylee drugs to “knock her out” then laid her to sleep in her
trunk while she went out with friends. Many of us believed that
Casey used home-made chloroform (it is, unfortunately, not hard
to make) to put Caylee to sleep on the afternoon on June 16th,
2008 prior to going out with her new boyfriend. When she
realized Caylee had died she went into denial, leaving her
daughter’s body in the trunk for days before disposing of it on
Suburban Drive using supplies from the Anthony home.
I, personally, wanted to believe the prosecution’s case.
But the truth was that even before the verdict I had my doubts.
There were many gaps in the story that I did not feel were
explained. Of course, I was not sitting in court every day, I did
not even watch every single day of the trial, but the media did not
paint a clear picture of anything that was genuine in the case.
Broadcasts spent hours talking about Casey dancing on a table
yet failed to mention in much detail the cell-phone pings that put
her at the site where Caylee’s remains were found. It was
nothing but a muddled mess for the common crime-watcher like
me.
When the trial was over I was simply angry. But as time
went by I began to get to the root of that anger and realized I
was not really upset about justice or no justice, I was upset
about not knowing the truth. Many of us had invested years in
this investigation and trial, and to see no conclusive ending was
hugely frustrating. It was that exact moment that I saw it clearly;
the Anthony saga was like a very long episode of Law & Order,
and on Law & Order, the bad guy always gets caught.
and on Law & Order, the bad guy always gets caught.
But that was not the most interesting observation I came
across when theorizing about Caylee’s death; it was that every
scenario includes Casey descending into a bizarre state of total
denial. It is exactly what made this case interesting; the complete
inability of anyone in the Anthony family to process the fact that
Caylee had died. Casey told nobody that Caylee was dead or
even missing for a month. Once it was clear that something had
happened to Caylee, Casey still continued to insist she was safe
somewhere. When the sheriff’s department determined that there
had been a dead body in Casey’s trunk, Cindy and George
Anthony insisted the results were wrong, that Caylee was still
alive somewhere.
There are a number of psychological conclusions that
could be made about the Anthonys by analyzing this denial. I
happen to think that the inner-dynamics of a family are so
intimate and complex that there is little way for anyone from the
outside, including myself, to attempt to explain them. Jeff Ashton
asserted that Casey was the beginning of the lies in the Anthony
family, that her deceit was their tumor of dysfunction. Many
others have claimed that the family was always highly reliant on
stretching the truth. Whatever the reality of the psychosis is, it is
a psychosis.
Casey and Cindy Anthony were forced to speak to one
another again regarding an important issue: the copyright that
George and Cindy had filed claiming stake over Caylee’s name
and likeness. The Anthonys had filed the request for copyright
and likeness. The Anthonys had filed the request for copyright
claiming they would be making tee-shirts with Caylee’s photo
and the phrase “Justice for Caylee”, which they also copyrighted
just prior to the start of Casey’s trial. The only problem was that
they had no right to do so. In the state of Florida when
somebody dies the rights to their photos and/or name are
inherited by their next-of-kin. In Caylee’s case that person was
Casey. George and Cindy took out the copyright assuming that
Casey would be locked up for the rest of her life.
Shortly after Casey’s acquittal her parents announced
that they would be founding and running an organization,
Caylee’s Fund, that would help advocate for grandparent rights.
This mission-statement alone sent a wave of confusion through
me; if George and Cindy thought Casey was not only innocent of
murder but also a great mother, why were they seemingly
regretful that they did not have the legal rights needed to remove
Caylee from her care? It would not be the first thing about this
“organization” to make absolutely no sense.
George and Cindy had been pursued for interviews relentlessly
since the end of the trial, but they were waiting for the right price.
The Anthonys had already been under the threat of crushing debt
when Caylee died. The media circus that would surround them
during the investigation and trial would make it totally impossible
for them to successfully find and keep any “normal” jobs. Both
George and Cindy ended up collecting disability payments from
the government. It is understandable why they would be
desperate for any kind of income.
Dr. Phil McGraw was just the man to take advantage. He
Dr. Phil McGraw was just the man to take advantage. He
wanted the Anthony interview, and they wanted to do it, but only
for a fee. The problem was, McGraw knew the controversy that
had surrounded the media and their policies of paying for
interviews ever since Casey was paid nearly a quarter-of-amillion
dollars for photos of Caylee in 2008. He could not just
write the Anthonys a check, there had to be a way to hide the
money. Enter Caylee’s Fund.
The Dr. Phil show donated a reported half-of-a-million
dollars to Caylee’s Fund as payment for the Anthony interview.
But the Anthonys did not really own the right to legally use
Caylee’s name on their organization, Casey did. Casey could
have caused legal problems for her parents if she had insisted on
reclaiming the copyright to Caylee. Many bloggers and sources
close to the foundation have alleged that an agreement was
made: half of whatever money George and Cindy received under
the guides of their “foundation” was to be funneled to Casey. To
the IRS this income would be considered a “gift” and hence not
eligible to be taxed.
George and Cindy would use their newly- acquired
funds to renovate their bathroom, buy new Jeeps, and pay off
many bills. If Casey received any portion of the proceeds they
were likely spent on the many debts she has to her name. Her
inability to pay back those who had aided in her case became an
infamous point amongst her “insiders”, who frequently lamented
that Jose Baez made promises that he could not keep. Although
their “scheme” seemed to have worked once, it would never
happen again; the website where “donations” were accepted for
happen again; the website where “donations” were accepted for
Caylee’s Fund was shut down following public outrage in March
of 2012.
The Anthonys would continue to live their lives in the
way they had for years: in complete denial. Yet, it appeared that
a small part of them always knew the truth. In August 2011 they
had the Pontiac Sunfire that prosecutors had claimed Caylee’s
body was in the trunk of destroyed; they continue to swim in the
pool that Jose Baez claims Caylee drowned in. That is the thing
about the truth; even when you ignore it, you know it’s there.
Stir-Crazy
Casey’s life back in Florida was a good one. Unlike her
brief time in California when she had spent all her time locked
away in the house, she was now able to go out and do things
normal 25-year-olds do. The concept may seem bizarre to you
and me, but Casey does not, or did not, have a true picture of
just how much hatred there is for her. It is easy to forget that she
was in jail, totally isolated during her trial. She knows she is
infamous, but I do not think she knows just how infamous.
Prior to the Casey Anthony trial there had not been a
case even close to as explosive as this case was. On July 5th,
2011 you would have been hard-pressed to attempt to find a
2011 you would have been hard-pressed to attempt to find a
single person in the United States that had access to internet who
had never heard of Casey or Caylee Anthony. The “blitz” that
had surrounded this case had been like no other due to the social
media craze that it had set off. It could be that the Anthony case
had some kind of inherent once-in-a-decade, made-fortelevision
sensationalism, or it could be that this case is simply a
preview of what many others will be like in the future due to the
innovation of social media.
After getting out of jail Casey was not happy, opposite to what
most people think. At first the “victory” of not having to be in
prison for the rest of her life (or worse) was attractive, but Casey
soon realized that the life she now had would never be the same
as it was before the trial. The reality that she was known worldwide
as the Monster of Orlando was not an easy thing to realize.
It is true, Casey enjoys attention, all kinds of attention, but
adjusting to just how insanely sought-after she had become was
not easy.
In California Casey spent the majority of her time at
home watching television. She was isolated from nearly
everyone. She ordered a lot of food to the house and gained a
considerable amount of weight. For Casey, her appearance had
become a sore subject. Before being arrested she had been thin,
tan, and attractive. Three years behind bars had transformed her
into the bizarre figure that soon became immortalized in a latex
Halloween mask that sold on eBay for close to a million dollars.
As soon as Casey was back in Florida she decided to change
her look, changing her hair and pursuing lots of help from online
her look, changing her hair and pursuing lots of help from online
shopping. Casey spent large amounts of time (and money) online
shopping for new clothes, accessories, shoes, and sunglasses.
She would frequently buy make-up from Sephora and ordered
hundreds of ringtones a month. But Casey needed a fake name
for all these packages to arrive at the house, she could not, after
all, address them to “Casey Anthony”.
When Casey first left jail she found herself at odds with
most if not all of her family. She began to create her own family,
a group of those close to her that she trusted. In this group
Casey’s name was “Alex”, a name the Cures’ still call her. In
return she addressed Stan and his wife as “madre and padre”.
But it was not this name that she could put on packages shipped
to the home.
Casey chose the name Melissa McKlintok, the name of
a woman who died in Fort Lauderdale, Florida in early
September 2011, to use as her first official “alias” out of jail. She
used it to sign up for various social media sites, including
Facebook and Pinterest. Casey began spending a lot of time
“pinning” things to her board on the site, taking interest in many
photographers and comedy pages. She made it clear she was a
Picasso fan; her profile picture was this stylized quote of his:
“Every child is an artist. The problem is staying an artist when
you grow up”.
On Facebook Casey had very few friends and never
admitted to anyone online who she really was. However, she
posted a telling note to her friends on Facebook under this alias.
On August 20th, 2012 at 11:46PM she posted this:
On August 20th, 2012 at 11:46PM she posted this:
“So I’m getting back in the swing of things, slowly but
surely. Trying to do things discreetly, although I am not sure
this is going to go. One thing I know for sure is:
I’ve lost way too much to take a single moment for granted.
I’ve lost too many people I care about.
I’ve lost a part of myself along the way, and I need those
who are in my life today to help me become the best I can
be.
I’m terrified of getting hurt again. I am terrified of being
taken advantage of again. And I am terrified that no matter
how hard I try to do the right thing, it may never be enough
in this lifetime. I’m shooting for eternity, but I’d love to
make a difference before that day comes.
Come what may, I am who I am, and I am who I am
becoming. BECOME WHO YOU ARE. Guess it is that
simple.
One piece of parting advice:
Hope for the things unseen.
Dare to dream.
Dare to laugh in those moments when everyone around you
Dare to laugh in those moments when everyone around you
wears a frown.
Dare to take a chance.
Follow your instincts.
Hold your ground.
Never give up fighting for what you believe in.
And no matter what happens, G-d will be with you this day,
and tomorrow.”
This statement sent chills through me on multiple levels. It
is no secret that Casey is self-absorbed. In my personal opinion
these statements do not come across as legitimate.
Casey was “out there” online, a fact that I do not think
will surprise many of us. We are all online, visiting the web
community through one social media site or the other on a neardaily
basis. Many people, myself one of them, have come to
dehumanize Casey in such a successful way that we do not even
consider that she is a member of this society just like us. We
strip her of the common-sense human activities that we assume
everybody else does. As brazen as Casey is, she still spends a
good deal of her time locked away indoors without much to do.
Much of the time she was able to spend outside she
spent walking around the property taking photos. Casey has
quite a knack for taking great pictures. When she left work to
have Caylee she was employed taking memento photos for
visitors at Universal Studios and had always maintained an
interest in photography. Now that she had hours and days
empty, she rekindled her abandoned pursuit of it.
empty, she rekindled her abandoned pursuit of it.
Casey had abandoned a lot of things that she had once
wanted to do. This life was totally opposite of the one she had
once imagined herself living. Again I am struck by the media's
assertion that Casey was happy and living large somewhere.
Casey lived in a small, older home and does not have a car. Her
life is certainly better than jail, but it is still very lonely and boring.
Casey recorded her first video diary on October 13th,
2011. She sat in the office of the house and recorded herself
musing about when she will get off probation and how her
computer is the first thing she has had that she did not have to
give back. When I first saw the video I immediately noticed her
clutching the necklace that I would find her wearing in every
other subsequently released photo. When I later was told the
necklace was an ashes holder I was shocked. I had doubted that
Casey cared at all about what happened to Caylee's remains, but
here these photos were where she clearly never took off the
necklace that was all she had left of her daughter. Either Casey
made certain she was wearing it in every photo and video
because they were posed or she legitimately missed her daughter
in some form.
The small memorial was not the only sign that Casey was
changing her life. In March of 2012 she would undergo a
baptism to officially become a Christian again. She wanted her
life to be entirely different than it was before and shortly after
Caylee’s death. But lying is a hard habit to beat.
Streaming Proof
I ignored my husband the entire way home from the
airport. This happened every time we went on vacation: we
came to realize after two days of non-stop interaction just how
many things about each other were totally annoying. As we
lugged the bags upstairs my heart began to beat wildly as I saw
the yellow caution tape draping the door of our neighbor. Seeing
an officer emerge reminded me of the chaotic police-calls that
had ended with my first husband in jail. I had never had a good
experience with a cop, and I began to feel myself
hyperventilating as he came towards us and announced blankly
that our neighbor and friend who we had known for years had
“expired”.
The callousness of the statement scorned me. It was the
kind of secondary-tragedy that you are not so sure you should
even be upset about, but it bothered me. When the other details
of it having been a suicide were discovered, I was heartbroken. I
was a survivor of my father’s suicide many years before and was
a soon-to-be mental health provider, knowing that I had missed
the signs was incredibly upsetting.
The following week, in late November, a woman who
The following week, in late November, a woman who
was a member of Haterville committed suicide. The entire group
gathered to nurse one another’s guilt and sadness. When I woke
up at night to cry, I turned on my computer and had the most
amazing people to talk to, people who had lives so drastically
different it was enlightening to see how much we actually had in
common. I spent a lot of time healing that month, and I thought I
was done with it forever.
Meanwhile, Casey was planning a weekend getaway to
the Cures' home in Palm City. She had decided she hated the
blonde hair sometime in late October and taken again to the
bottle of hair dye, going brunette once again. But brown become
boring, too, and Casey decided to dye it red just before her trip
away from home. She was driven north by her boyfriend, unable
to drive herself.
For obvious reasons Casey was not just brought out in
public freely. The Cures made sure she was on a schedule, that
she helped with the chores and attended small church groups.
The entire family "loved Casey to death", Stan's daughters
becoming very close to her. Casey began to use her laptop to
take pictures, videos, and talk to Stan Cure's daughters when
she was back in West Palm Beach. It could have been assumed
that Casey made her video diaries for her new-found friends, but
that was ruled out when she mentioned Stan Cure's family in
third-person in one of the recordings.
When Casey was permitted to spend an entire weekend
with the Cures it was a chance to socialize much more than she
was able to down south where she only had Pops to keep her
was able to down south where she only had Pops to keep her
company. In November Casey would spend a long weekend
there, which is when she would go to a nearby tattoo shop and
get new piercings. Casey was giddy with excitement as she
received a piercing in her left nostril and chains of three down the
lobe of each ear. When paired with her red hair and the new
thick-rimmed, black glasses she had begun to wear, Casey felt
almost like she fit right in.
It is strange for me to consider this scenario and not be shocked;
how did the infamous accused baby murderer Casey Anthony
simply go out in public without being recognized? The fact is
Casey has an amazing quality of looking entirely different with
just a few small appearance-tweaks. By November she was
much thinner than she had been during the trial, her skin was
shades darker, and her hair was entirely different. It was bold,
incredibly so, but that confidence may have been what kept
Casey from being discovered; she did not make it obvious that
she was hiding from anything.
When Casey arrived home from her weekend up north
she decided to record what would be her second entry to her
“video diary”. She sat in front of her laptop in her living room
and gushed about how excited she was about her new piercings,
showing them to the camera. She briefly talked about her
weekend out and her new red hair, but quickly came back to the
same topic she had spent nearly five-minutes of her first video
diary talking about: change.
“I’m just really starting to feel good about a lot of things,
“I’m just really starting to feel good about a lot of things,
it’s about time” she stated, pursing her lips and sighing. “I’m just
happy, I’m really happy” she continued, a statement that seemed
legitimate. It was not doubtful that Casey was happy for the first
time in many years. She had just spent three years in jail facing
the death penalty and prior to that had lived in a household that
she had described as being abusive. She stopped recording
when Smooch, the Yorkshire terrier she had adopted in
September, came yelping over.
Casey’s life was changing, and it seemed for the better.
She had a stable place to live and people who genuinely cared
about her. As distorted as it seems, she was reconciling with her
family and attempting to mend fences. In early December she
met with Lee for the first time since her release. The two had
spoken on the phone and emailed frequently, but the first faceto-
face encounter proved to be emotional. Before Caylee’s
death the siblings had been as close as a brother and sister could
be. Sure, they had their issues, but they seemed to understand
one another in ways that nobody else could. For Casey, reuniting
with Lee was an important step to redeeming her “old self”.
On December 23rd, 2011, Ron Hinkley wanted to give
Casey’s fellow supporters an “early Christmas present”. He
uploaded the video Casey had made of herself in November to
his YouTube account and posted the link on the wall of his
private group. It was not the first trace of Casey that Hinkley had
posted since the photo in November—he had been posting a
series of photos in his group for months. Unfortunately, the video
would not remain private.
would not remain private.
There were a host of reasons for members who saw the
video to save it. Many thought that the videos could jeopardize
Casey’s safety by revealing her location. They had saved the
video, photos, and screenshots of their postings to give to
Casey’s attorneys in hopes they would be able to stop the leaks
before they caused a serious problem. Others saved the media
as part of an espionage-type “investigation” that they were
maintaining in an effort to find out where Casey was. Some
people thought they could sell the video and photos; others just
wanted them to share with friends. Whatever reasons they had,
people were saving these images of Casey, and they were slowly
making their way out to the media and the public. Without her
even knowing it, Casey’s new life, her new "happiness", was
beginning to slip away from her.
The Leak
The morning of January 4th was a busy one. I was
starting school again in a week after having nearly a month off for
the holidays. I checked into Haterville briefly in the morning, and
saw the still from Casey’s first video diary with the caption
“supposedly this is a new pic of Skank that Jeffery posted”.
Although it might have seemed like an exclusive insight to
outsiders, the still was one of many photos that had come
forward in the six months since Casey had been released from
jail with the claim it was her. Many had come forward with
photo-shopped pictures, one even faking a pornographic pose,
and others had submitted photos of look-a-likes claiming they
were Casey. I did not think much of it as I climbed in the car and
headed to school to purchase the upcoming semester’s supplies.
But as I drove down the freeway the photo began to nag
at me. What if it really was her? When I hit gridlock and was
stopped in traffic I opened the still again on my phone, staring at
it for a long while. Although I could not be sure, I began to
believe that this was actually Casey. As I browsed through the
bookstore I became transfixed on the photo. Where did this
come from? Why was it posted? Was this the pre-cursor to
some kind of interview special or something?
When I was back returned home I opened on my
computer a close-up photo taken of Casey in jail and set it next
computer a close-up photo taken of Casey in jail and set it next
to the video still. Moving through her features, I noted the
similarities and differences, and found many more of the latter. I
posted the side-by-side in Haterville, and then uploaded it to my
twitter account. At the time I had all but three followers on
twitter. I had made the account when I had written my fiction
book at the urging of my literary agent, who seemed to think that
social media would somehow sell more copies. Unfortunately for
me, she was wrong.
It would be on the thread of that comparison photo that
members began discussing the fact that the picture was a still
from a video. It was also the first time I heard the name “Ron
Hinkley”. Members were adamant that he had released this
video on behalf of Casey, and at the time I believed them. How
else would it make sense that this video had ended up out and on
Facebook? The thread was a lively one, but it was only the
beginning as far as discussing Casey’s video diary.
At three that afternoon my husband went off to a
business dinner, blowing me a kiss goodbye as I watched him file
down the hall in his suit and tie. As I closed the door I
remembered thinking how happy I was. After all the chaos of the
last few years—the divorce, the move, mine having to change my
name—everything finally felt settled. I had spent years being
afraid that my ex-husband would find me and finish what he had
started, what he had promised he would do—kill me. There is
no feeling more valuable than knowing you are safe, and the
evening of January 4th, 2012 was the last night I remember
experiencing that feeling.
experiencing that feeling.
Sometime past 6pm I saw that a link to the video had
been posted in Haterville. As I ate dinner I pressed play, fully
expecting it to be some prank. I nearly choked when I heard the
voice. I may have been unsure about her looks, but I knew her
voice. This was not a prank, this was real. I threw my plate
down and listened intently, suddenly reevaluating the entire set
where the video was filmed, attempting to get any clues as to
where it came from. Underneath the video comments began to
flood in, most of anger, many of curiosity.
Some members complained that the video was in Flash
format so they could not view it. I had kept an active YouTube
account for nearly four years. I used the account to post videos I
made in The Sims, a computer game with simulated humans. I
made parodies and music videos to post there; it was a fun
creative-outlet that I enjoyed greatly. Due to my posting of my
videos on Facebook, two or three members asked me if I could
somehow convert the video for them. I used a screen-recorder
to put the video in another format and uploaded it to my
YouTube account, giving the link to the members as I went to
bed.
There was no intention on my part to attract any kind of
attention or to use the video for any form of monetary gain. I was
simply reposting the file in a different format, I had not a clue it
would have such a large effect, and I certainly could not have
predicted that posting a video that I thought was already “out
there” would involve me in any way with Casey Anthony. By the
time I posted Casey’s first video diary to YouTube hundreds if
time I posted Casey’s first video diary to YouTube hundreds if
not thousands of people all over Facebook had already seen it.
Looking back, I wish I had never posted that video. If I
had known the massive amount of attention that it would attract
and how that would seed a dysfunctional social media fixation on
me as one of the “leakers” I would have never had anything to
do with it. As it was, I was stupid enough to not only be unaware
of what the video would bring my way, but also dumb enough to
smear the video with the name of my website, another suggestion
of my literary agent that I had begun doing to all my videos after
releasing my fiction book. I had led a public and open online life,
posting my resume and many pictures of myself on the internet.
That was all about to end.
As I fell asleep the night of January 4th next to my
husband and our animals, I did not think twice about Casey
Anthony or any video of her. The following morning would be
the start of a life where I may never be able to fully forget Casey
or that video diary.
Part II:
Their Lies
Fallout
The morning of January 5th, 2012 was one I will never
forget. I knew right away that the video appeared to have
brought in views—there were nearly a thousand new emails in
my inbox from YouTube—but I did not know just how big it had
become until I logged into Haterville. A post in the group
featured a link to an article on the website of a local Orlando
ABC affiliate. The caption with the link read “Isn’t there an
Amelia Sobel in our group?”
My heart began to skip wildly as I followed the link to
the article. There I was, smack in the middle of it. The article
reported that I was an employee of Vivid Entertainment and
made the insinuative observation that they had offered Casey $1
million for a pornographic film shortly after she left jail. They
were not the first or last to make the accusation that I was a
pornographer looking to somehow promote Casey’s smut debut.
The truth is, I have done little work in porn and I did not
currently work for Vivid—I haven’t since 2009. The ABC
affiliate had located the same online resume that others would
take note of before I was able to remove it. If they had cared to
read the under-print they would have known I was a graphic
designer who helped categorize Vivid’s online database, not a
producer of any kind.
When I called the affiliate to request they remove my
name I was in for a shock. As soon as I identified myself the
secretary perked up, asking with haste “well can I put you
through to a reporter? This is a huge story down here!” I
chuckled and tried to warn her, “I have nothing to do with Casey
though”, but the line had already clicked away to a reporter, who
I told again that I had nothing to do with this.
I went back to Haterville to let the members know this
was a misunderstanding—those who had not spent much time
talking to me were suspicious that perhaps I was someone from
Casey’s camp. At that point most everyone believed me. I had
Casey’s camp. At that point most everyone believed me. I had
their trust and their confidence.
At around noon a woman who I knew well from the
group messaged me on Facebook. It read simply: “You have
seen the pics, right?” When I did not respond she continued,
“The pics of Casey? I am afraid she is selling them.”
It was this point where I could have moved on. I could
have chosen to ignore the message and simply elect to ignore this
mess. And in a way, I wish I had. But the same appeal ran
through me; what if she sells them? I had heard about the
interview-pitching and attempts to sell photos, I knew how
valuable that “first” picture would be. I had spent months sitting
around talking about Casey, and now I actually had the chance
to do something about it. As the woman sent me the photos I
immediately created a slideshow and uploaded it to YouTube,
linking to it on my twitter account. I had no idea what I was in
for.
Immediately my inbox began lighting up, message after
message coming in. In Haterville all the talk was about HLN,
who had just aired the video with, regrettably, my website
plastered across it. Many people began sending me the same
information: Ron Hinkley had originally posted the videos. It is
the information I would funnel to any and all media that would
contact me. I had no idea who the man was; I had not even seen
him “around” on Facebook.
Prior to the video leak I was not a fan of any support
pages and never had taken part in discussions or even engaged
in a single conversation with somebody that would be considered
in a single conversation with somebody that would be considered
a “supporter”. It made me feel a little like I feel when I view the
official Neo-Nazi website—it drove me nuts. I could not even
tolerate listening to the supporters’ explanations. I was far too
emotionally involved to play nice.
Realizing this was bigger than we had originally thought,
members of the group began a rag-tag investigation into where
the video and photos had come from. We had one goal: prove
Casey released them. We knew how damning the video was to
Casey’s civil cases; her video-deposition had been kept private
on the grounds that she would be in danger were it to be
released, yet here she was releasing a video that contained many
more clues about where she was hiding. Many members began
reading through her probation terms, attempting to find a
violation of any kind. Others examined the photos and video
tirelessly, trying to find any kind of clue to where she was.
I had never spoken to any media in my entire life, and I had no
desire to. The world of media is an incredibly cut-throat, smeardriven
shadow culture. What used to be a force dedicated to
truth has become a gossip machine fed by affairs, sex tapes, and
sensationalized crime. I was aware of a golden rule of sorts that
whenever you go on television, you will more than likely come
across looking bad and saying something stupid.
This was in the back of my mind as afternoon turned into
evening and I received several requests from nationallysyndicated
HLN, ABC, and NBC shows. I did not want to be
used by the media as some pawn, and I was well aware that any
“interview” they may do with me would be empty of any
“interview” they may do with me would be empty of any
substance and simply be a way to score their next Casey-related
blurb. I was afraid, being interviewed in front of millions of
people is not easy.
It was that evening that I first came across the name
Jacob Trenton. Facebook was abuzz with the news that he
would be on the Nancy Grace show to discuss how he and his
partner, Luke, had found the video and posted it first. I learned
before the interview aired that the Trentons ran a site dedicated
to boycotting Casey.
A part of me was relieved; Jacob speaking publicly took
some pressure off of me to do so. But another part of me
cringed, I was told by everyone who had ever interacted with
them that the Trentons were great people, I did not want to see
them hurt. There was a certain lag-time that we all; Ron, the
Trentons, and I had during those first few days. We would be
able to operate efficiently and full-heartedly during that time
before we were caught up to by the pack of trolls that the video
had enticed.
Before January 5th I had no clue how despicable people
could become. I did not know the first thing about jealousy and
the nasty ways it manifested in adults. Despite the fact that I did
not realize it yet, I had entered the realm of computer-chained,
lost individuals desperately seeking any form of attention. The
amount of media that this video attracted was just the half of it.
That night when Jacob Trenton appeared on several national
television programs he made what he would later describe as the
television programs he made what he would later describe as the
“worst mistake of his life”. He attempted to speak on behalf of
Caylee, to do what he thought was right, but inadvertently gave
himself away to The Pack.
Sudden Prophets
The morning on January 6th, 2012 was a chaotic
morning. I woke up early; I had jury duty downtown to get to. I
knew that some media and a lot of bloggers were still looking for
information, but I did not expect that it would be such a problem.
As I plugged my headphones into my phone I realized, with
dismay, that the only sound I could hear was the constant “new
email” pings. I held onto the grab-bar on the bus, supporting
myself with one hand and attempting to read through the emails
with the other.
The muddled inbox was a collection of supportive
personal emails, media solicitations, hate mail, and, most
importantly, emails offering me more information. Many people
had noticed my posting of the new photos on twitter the previous
day, and members in Haterville would soon warn me that my
name was “all over” being discussed on various television shows.
Apparently, this mess had just begun.
Unfortunately, I was not the only one being bombarded.
Ron Hinkley, the man who others had told me the day before
Ron Hinkley, the man who others had told me the day before
was the “original leak”, was going through his own crisis.
Hinkley’s name had been floated by media, bloggers, and normal
people just trying to figure the whole mess out. While the “hate”
groups were very militaristic with a “defend your own” type
attitude, the support crowd was much less conducive. They
supported each other, and they were good friends, but they did
not have the same compulsion to defend that had been brewing
in the hate groups for some time. Where I originally had people
to defend me, Ron Hinkley did not.
When we realized that the video had originally showed
up on the thread of a hate group, “People Against ‘We Support
Casey Anthony’”, that this was an issue that had arisen totally in
social media, more specifically our tiny little corner of social
media, we suddenly felt the need to speak out. There we were
on threads discussing who should do what interviews and what
should he or she say until 2am in the morning. We had reached
our extremes, and I was right in the middle of that storm.
When the group determined it was me who they wanted
to speak for them I was scared out of my mind. Not only was I
under pressure from these friends of mine to do great and “speak
for Caylee”, but I also had that whole crowd of millions of
viewers to worry about, too. I set up the meeting with Inside
Edition to do a sit-down interview. With my laptop open on the
bed I circled around it wildly grabbing different dresses and
shoes and all kinds of stuff I had not worn in months. I had no
idea how you dress for a national interview, and now I only had
idea how you dress for a national interview, and now I only had
an hour to prepare. I finally settled on something purple, it was
Caylee's favorite color and had been suggested by the group. I
sat pensively rocking my jaw in my hands as I listened to my
husband, who sat at the end of the bed reading some of the
blogs who had mentioned my name. “Oh look, here is another
good one; they say ANS is the hell Casey has been running
from!”
I fell to the ground, attempting to wrap my hands far
enough over my mouth to stop it, but I nonetheless found myself
crouching in my own throw-up. I was raising my husband in a
doctor family, and in doctor families we do not ask what is
wrong after someone hurls, we ask “do you feel better?”
“Yeah” I yelped, shoving myself back up and using the
paper towels nearby to brush away the bile. “Why are you so
scared, dear?” my husband asked me. He wrapped his arms
around me tightly as he attempted to help brush the dress clean.
“What if he sees it?” I asked, under my breath, knowing the
conclusion. It was the thought that had just hit me now, but
perhaps why I could not hold my lunch down. What if my exhusband
was watching?
I had accepted the strange and paranoid-seeming rituals
of an “abused woman” years ago. Six bolt locks down the side
of the front entry, bed always facing towards the door, fireescape
ready. Sure, they were annoying and degrading to have
to make a part of your life, but when a man has said he will kill
you again and again and he is let out to be free to do it as he
pleases, these cycles of law enforcement, social workers, and
pleases, these cycles of law enforcement, social workers, and
arrests become too bewildering to face. The law is not designed
to help abused women. Hiding is easier, and hiding is what I had
been doing since the day I filed a protection order against my exhusband
years ago.
It was there in that dusty old mess of a courthouse that I recall
first seeing my current husband for the first time through thick
paperwork and large glasses. The card draping his desk read
“Pro-Bono”. He would be my attorney through the process, the
one person by my side through the entire mess, and eventually
that would become something more. We were married in 2010,
a little less than a year after my divorce was granted from my first
husband. We had made the move to California partially because
we hated the winters, but also to hide.
My husband always wanted me safe, and he had warned
me away from doing anything public in the past. When I told him
I had used my spare time to write a novel and that I wanted to
write an entire series he had one response: “Don’t put your name
on it”. Although I thought it was silly to make up a fake name to
write with, I have thanked my husband every day since January
5th, 2012. Thanks to his intuition my real name was not the one
plastered across HLN and third-string smear blogs.
“You don’t have to do this” he reminded me as I threw the dress
in the hamper. “There has to be another way” he continued. Just
then my phone rang and a producer from Inside Edition notified
me that they would not be able to send a crew down from Los
Angeles that day, a convenient out for me. It would not be the
only interview I was on the verge of giving; I was waiting on the
only interview I was on the verge of giving; I was waiting on the
line to speak on the Nancy Grace show on January 6th, but time
constraints delayed the interview. For me, that was a message
from the universe that for me, speaking to mainstream media was
not the best way to represent myself or my cause.
Despite my fears about speaking publicly, I wanted the
story told. Facebook users who had witnessed for months
information about Casey were spilling forward, contacting me by
the dozens, wanting someone to speak for them. What had
happened to mine, Ron, and the Trentons’ names was a fate
nobody wanted. These people did not want their names and
information made public and to be defamed and stalked like us
“leakers” had already begun to experience.
I made a sacrifice: I decided to allow my pen name to be
crucified. I knew that going forward it would be alleged that I
was Casey, I am still aware of that assumption by some people.
I realized that forever after when anyone Googles my pen name
the results will not be the novel I wrote or the domain I paid for
to promote it, they would be hateful and presumptuous blogs,
and I accepted that. There was a story that needed to be told,
and it would not be out there if I did not put it out there. The
burden was mine, and I took it. The night of January 5th I did my
best to wipe the internet clean of any connections between my
pen name and my legal name. This was war, and where the truth
was my weapon, my anonymity was my armor.
A Private Solution
The morning of January 7th, 2012 was not a fun one for
me. I woke up from the several hours of stressed, dreamless
sleep I had managed to get to find that I was being alienated. I
was locked out of Haterville, a choice by administrators of the
group that perplexes me to this day. The explanation at the time
was that too many reporters or looky-loos were following me
into the group, and in order to maintain their secrecy they had to
eliminate me. But I was not buying that for one second.
Ever since the first threads discussing my name in articles
had appeared they had been dogged by nasty, presumptuous
comments. They were not from the group of women I had grown
close to or even some of the men that I had spent time getting to
know, it was those in the group who I may have never come
across that now doubted me. Early that morning I checked in
with this thread:
January 7th, 2012, 8:52AM: “Hey guys. . .geez. .
.should I do Nancy Grace or what? Don’t really want
to.”
The responses were not nearly what I expected from
people who I thought were on the same “side” that I was. There
people who I thought were on the same “side” that I was. There
was a lot of hostility, a lot of jealous undertones in the responses:
January 7th, 2012, 8:53AM: “why are you bragging
about all these interviews?”
January 7th, 2012, 8:54AM: “Do it or dont do it we
cant decide”
January 7th, 2012, 8:56AM: “I agree why so gloaty
[sic]?”
Suddenly all the trust that I thought me and these
individuals had created over the last six months was gone. When
push came to shove I believe they evaluated me for believability,
and realized that we had yet to speak on the phone, that not
many pictures had been exchanged, and my location and
occupation were blurry. It was a strange thing to attempt to
counter, because as much as I had grown to like and even love
these women, all I could do now to convince them I was not
some spy sent in by Casey was to beg. I needed their trust and
their support, and I was pleading with them to let me expect that.
Yet already, I felt them being scared away.
On the supporter side of things I was not getting a much
better reputation. Supporters immediately questioned who I was
and where I had come from. This sentiment was all over it
seemed and struck me as very odd. I had been on Facebook
since 2007, had my own website for months, I certainly did not
feel as if I were in hiding or “just popping up”. They wanted to
know who I was, and they turned that and all other questions to
the one man in their group who always seemed to have the
answers: Ron Hinkley.
Hinkley was undergoing the most intense stages of an allout
media feeding. His name was on the tongue (and interview
wish-list) of every dirty gossip rag. They were speculative and
indulgent, attempting to float the idea that Hinkley was Casey’s
bad-boy, felon boyfriend. Others were preoccupied with the
Trentons, whom they were convinced were the true “leaks”.
They were sifting through mounds of internet information,
Facebook walls that were years-long, archived articles, pingballed
tweets that could take hours to decipher. Their goal:
connect Ron to the Trentons somehow.
The Trenton connection never baffled or drew too much
of my attention, honestly. At this time I totally ignored them, and
in fact disliked them. Several of the Haterville women had
complained to me that Jacob had refused to post the list of NBC
(thought to have been buying an interview with Casey at the
time) advertisers, a move that had scorned them. They began to
speculate why and soon found themselves in the bizarre fringe of
people who believed the Trentons were somehow connected to
Casey.
At the time I did not appreciate the news being fed to me
about the Trentons, which seemed to be getting worse by the
hour, because I felt it was a waste of time. The real person we
had to focus our attention on was Ron Hinkley, the man who had
tagged the photos and thus proven he was the first one to have
tagged the photos and thus proven he was the first one to have
them. He was the source, and he should be the focus. My
insisted attitude that we find Ron and demand answers from him
did not sit well with many others. They came to me with the
same sentiment again and again, “Prove it was Casey that gave
them away!”
It was the request that would stay with me during the
entire process that would follow. Our goal was to prove Casey
released the video and photos. That was what I was setting out
to do. Little did I know that even that, my most basic
fundamental about the whole thing, would morph several times
before all this was up.
Around noon I returned to twitter, where I was in for a
shock. Literally overnight my measly three followers had become
more than three-hundred, and they all seemed to have questions.
I like to think of twitter as social quicksand, you think you will
just walk right over it, but you always end up getting sucked in.
My goal to answer one or two questions turned into an hourslong
session of posting screencaps and attempting to explain our
whacky “group” mentality to others, ritualistically reverting to the
“No Blood Money” mantra. It was not until the media began
tweeting me that I began to realize this may be a more useful tool
than I had suspected.
As it became evening I noticed tweets from several
people claiming to work for TMZ. There are a few times in
one’s life when you have the chance to say exactly what you
want, and for me, this was one of them. At the time I already
knew about the posed Casey pictures and had let that persuade
knew about the posed Casey pictures and had let that persuade
me to never speak to TMZ in any capacity.
January 7th, 2012, 7:32PM: “@ameliasobel – please
follow @TMZ – we want to talk to you”
January 7th, 2012, 7:34PM: “@[name omitted]
@TMZ How much did you pay Casey for those faked
Ohio pics?”
I felt this instance was a great example of the one virtue I
came to realize through this experience: you can never let anyone
intimidate you, regardless of their “social standing”. It is my
assumption that “reporters” for TMZ and those like them thought
that I was a fame-driven individual who would say or do
anything to get their attention. Apparently the thrill of being
mentioned on a nationally-followed gossip site is enough to get
some people to sell their soul but I, honestly, did not see the
allure of being mentioned anywhere. To this day the only contact
I have had with TMZ is the email I sent to them asking them to
remove any mention of my name from several articles they had
posted on Casey’s leaked videos and photos.
As the evening continued so would the tweets. Without
even realizing it I found myself in the place of being the
“spokesperson” for all Caylee Warriors. Many people were
talking and blogging about the name “Amelia Sobel”, and my
twitter account became the one place they could go to hear
things directly from me and not from others. I made a decision
there and then: no swearing, no names of sources, and no
there and then: no swearing, no names of sources, and no
feeding the trolls with responses. Unfortunately, I was about to
break two of those three sacred laws.
The 1000-Tweets War
The day of January 8th, 2012, would be one of the most
chaotic days of my life thus far. Early in the morning a Facebook
user made me aware that Ron Hinkley had a twitter account,
delightful news for me. I had wanted to confront Hinkley directly
about his involvement, and twitter’s public nature made it the
perfect podium to hold the debate from.
I immediately tweeted Hinkley the screenshot of his original
posting of Casey’s first video diary. The screenshot included the
following dialogue:
December 20th, 2011, 3:38PM: “lol…this [sic: these]
are new pics”
December 20th, 2011, 3:46PM: “casey isnt even in
Ocala, fl…she is far from it”
December 20th, 2011, 3:48PM: “I dont play games…
all these supporters want to see casey…I figure I would
let them see her…”
It seemed in the screens that Ron was not only accepting
responsibility for releasing at least the photos of Casey, he was
also implying he knew her location. At the time this was priced
information for me. I had been keeping up with nearly every blog
that followed Casey and was attempting to find her; I had heard
vague stories of where she was, but nothing confirmable. The
stories I had heard were that she was staying with a pastor and
lived with children. Several sites would run with these small
details, some even locating the Cure home. The unfortunate part
was that they were both totally incorrect.
Ron Hinkley responded with denial, claiming the screens
were faked. His denial would keep up throughout the day when
he would insist the mugshot a source had sent me of him was
“the wrong guy”. I had been pointed in the direction of a
shockingly long criminal and civil record by yet another source
who claimed to know Hinkley personally. I have never been able
to track down and find the identities of either of these parties, I
have not had much desire to, but I have let Ron know that
somewhere there are people who are just waiting to screw him.
It made me aware of the fact that there are possibly several if not
many of these people on each of our trails; people who have
some kind of ax to grind with us, and seeing his mugshot
smeared all over twitter was a damn good way to “get back” at
Ron.
The banter continued through the afternoon and into the
evening, when Ron Hinkley would drop the bomb that I was
supposedly Casey. By this point I felt I had developed a loosesupposedly
Casey. By this point I felt I had developed a loosetrust
with those who were following me and all Caylee Warriors.
I thought that they knew I was here for the cause; I had the goal
of getting Casey arrested again and revealing her location. I did
not think someone tweeting an accusation without proof would
be all it took to send some into an all-out rage.
Logging into Facebook I found that many of the women
I had considered my friends had blocked me, many not even
bothering to send a message telling me why. One that did made
the simple statement that would perplex me: “I want to trust you,
but I just don’t know why you did what you did”. To this day I
do not understand this message or the several others that were
similar to it. I do not know what I “did”, and I am confident
enough to assume that whatever “it” was, it was likely fabricated
by somebody out to discredit me.
I also found that all of the posts on my wall that I had left
public had been flagged as spam. For whatever reason, I was
under attack. Somebody was following my every online move
looking to silence me at every turn. I felt violated to know that at
least one person had spent hours scrolling back in my online
history, searching for anything negative to use against me.
It was about this time that I noticed a crop of fake twitter
accounts showing up to insist I was Casey. When they were
ignored they took on a new story: that I was writing a book with
Casey and this was our “promotional tour”. They set out to
reveal my real identity, posting three different addresses of
women who were not me, I did not know, and had absolutely
women who were not me, I did not know, and had absolutely
nothing to do with any of this. I began to realize that for these
individuals my identity and personal information was a priced
object. They wanted to, for reasons beyond me, smear my
photo, name, and address all over the internet. This was more
serious than I had originally thought it was.
When you are an abused woman, you spend years trying
to hide. You do many things to attempt to “throw off” anyone
who comes looking for you, things to conceal yourself from the
sometimes regrettable public laws mandating that addresses and
other information be public. You do not sign leases; in fact, you
disappear completely from your financial life. No cell phones, no
cable, no heat, and no credit cards in your name. You learn to
hide behind a series of fake names and alternate identities. Not
even my grandparents have my real address.
So this concept of hiding was not new to me, but the
game had just become much harder. Now I was not just hiding
from one man, I was hiding from an entire group of people. I
had no idea why they had an interest in who I was, but as long as
they did, I had to maintain the safety of my information. I would
lock all my accounts down, and the ones I could not I would
delete. I would solicit the help of others who I had a great deal
of trust in to help me not only in keeping up with tweets, emails,
and blogs all hours of the day but also in helping distract from my
real identity.
I happened to know a few individuals that had been
around this scandal-block a few times, unlike me. They knew the
“tricks” to help guide me through this. We sent our IP addresses
“tricks” to help guide me through this. We sent our IP addresses
to Switzerland. We made separate email addresses solely for the
purpose of dealing with twitter and Facebook. We even came
up with a code-name language only used amongst each other. In
our new code, my name was “Serenity”.
To this day it is a mystery to me why these individuals
were so hell-bent on stalking me. I viewed my twitter account as
a generic, anonymous voice that could be used to get the truth
out, I never wanted any focus on me. A common claim of “The
Pack”, a small group of extremists obsessed with the case, is that
I somehow planned to come into pictures and videos of Casey
and decided to use it as a chance to promote my novel, which
has nothing to do with Casey Anthony whatsoever. If this was
my plan, it was not a good one; the book’s slow but steady
sales-flow came to a halting stop as soon as my name became
associated with Casey’s.
The Pack has made an array of bizarre claims, many of
which they hit me with during the Tweet War. Below is a
sampling of the thousands of tweets I received from only a few
individuals using a series of fake accounts:
January 8th, 2012: “@ameliasobel is a pornographer!
shopping pics of naked caylee?! someone arrest her!”
January 8th, 2012: “@ameliasobel is a disgusting liar
earning BLOOD money from Caylee’s name in the porn
industry. #caseyanthony SICK PIG.
January 8th, 2012: “crazy bitch! I will MAKE SURE
you are locked up where you belong!
you are locked up where you belong!
January 8th, 2012: “@[Name Omitted, account
associated with known hacker group] Maybe you can
teach @ameliasobel a lesson? LOL!”
January 8th, 2012: “You’re a moron, I hope you are
the next person Casey buries #caseyanthony”
My guess is as good as any as to why these individuals
are so angry. It is my personal belief that trolls are nothing new;
our lives of “quiet desperation” are just not so quiet anymore.
The internet has offered us an entirely anonymous way to
communicate, for better or worse. The positive side of that
freedom is vast and unquestionably important, but the negative
side is possibly as ugly as the good is pretty.
There are people out there that the average person such
as I had no idea existed. These individuals are severely
incapacitated socially and use the internet as their sole outlet to
the human-experience. These individuals likely feel very
alienated, rejected, and envious of those of us who have the
ability to communicate properly with others. These people exist;
they are present, they are amongst us, and they are predatory.
Despite the fact that these reckless individuals caused so
much unrest in my life and the lives of many others, I only wish
them the best. Will I be in any way associating with them in the
future? Absolutely not, but I can walk away with little bitterness
because these people do not really even know who I am. The
persona that they have created online in no way reflects who I
persona that they have created online in no way reflects who I
am in my socially-functional life.
On the evening of January 8th I received many, many
messages on Facebook. My Facebook account would be the
only remnants of my real identity left online. I was still clinging to
the hope that this would die-down in a week or two and
everything would go back to normal. In the pile of messages that
I would not have time to go through fully until the middle of
February was one that I should have read right away:
From: Ron Hinkley
January 8th, 2012, 9:58PM
“just to let you know that is not my twitter account
you are claiming is mine...im going to guess that's
the one girl thats been pulling your leg for the last
few days..”
The $50,000 Lie
While what I was experiencing on the troll-front was
bad, what the Trentons were getting was even worse. Because
The Pack had their real identities, they were able to delight in
digging up and posting every detail of their lives. They were
searching desperately for a connection from Ron Hinkley to the
Trentons, and because there was nothing real to find, they made
Trentons, and because there was nothing real to find, they made
things up. The Pack posted the names of the Trentons' adopted
children, merely out of the range of being minors, and alleged a
host of bizarre and false claims such as that Jacob Trenton was
desperate for another baby and using Casey as his surrogate.
A man who called himself “Don Angeles”, who
happened to be the owner of a gardening company in Florida,
spoke on the phone with the Trentons on January 6th, 2012, a
day that was as hectic for them as it was for me. They had done
a series of interviews the day before and the media was still
swarming them for answers. They had a public phone number
and unfortunately, that was the route predators first took to find
them. They called Angeles to question internet domains he had
bought the night of January 5th and registered to "Jacob
Trenton". The website addresses included a website called
"Casey Can Rap" and appeared to be a money-making venture
using Casey's voice with beats by the Trentons. Not surprisingly,
the conversation turned ugly.
Luke Trenton ended up in a heated exchange of words
with Don Angeles, one which he would sorely regret later.
Without Luke’s knowledge Angeles had been recording the
phone call, a federal crime. There is a reason that your 1-800
company always informs you that they “may be recording this for
training or quality-assurance purposes”; it is against the law to
record you without your consent.
Don Angeles would soon take this “bombshell”
recording to several third-string bash blogs looking to sell it,
claiming it was Luke Trenton threatening him. To be honest, I
claiming it was Luke Trenton threatening him. To be honest, I
have not personally heard the tape. My opinion that Luke never
threatened Angeles is just that, an opinion.
It is my belief that this juncture was when the Trentons,
and in turn me, lost the support and trust of the third-string blogs
that had been following the Tweet War. When the news of the
Francisco “connection” came out, even I became weary of the
Trentons. I had known nothing about them before their
interviews, and I began to doubt them. In the chaos that was
ensuing, I failed to take note of the fact that the first account to
mention the so-called conspiracy was Ron Hinkley’s so-called
account.
As the day wore on it came to my knowledge that there
were two other Casey videos out there: a ten-minute long video
and the video Casey recorded the day she got her piercings.
Several Facebook users came to me saying they had seen a 9-
second version of the video and saved it to their computers.
One, a woman whom I had known and trusted for months, sent
me screenshots of the video, which she told me was on her
computer at home. I posted them on twitter immediately, where
they were taken note of by a female reporter who would email
me right away.
This reporter wanted the video, just like they all did, and
she assumed I had it and was “holding out on her”. At that time
that prospect never even occurred to me. I received the videos
and photos at separate times from separate people and uploaded
them as soon as they made it to my inbox. Now, looking back, I
them as soon as they made it to my inbox. Now, looking back, I
can understand that to an outsider that could have appeared as if
I were releasing everything slowly to get attention or run-up the
price of anything I was trying to sell. But the simple truth is that
just was not the case.
I corresponded with the female reporter honestly and
openly, I sent her as well as a few others in the media any new
materials as soon as I posted them on twitter. I thought that if the
pictures and videos were spread all over they could not be sold,
and therefore it was only helpful to give them to media directly. I
wanted to use the media as a tool to get the truth out.
Unfortunately, this reporter decided to take advantage of my
naïve notion that the media has any kind of interest in having the
truth told. This exchange took place between my cell phone and
the female reporter’s cell phone via text-message that afternoon:
January 9th, 2012, 12:38PM: “Did you find the video
yet??”
January 9th, 2012, 12:47PM: “Friend is still looking
for it, want it out there so it can’t be sold”
January 9th, 2012, 1:18PM: “I heard it was just sold
for 50,000”
January 9th, 2012, 2:24PM: “Just got it and put it up.
Damn so close that sucks! Can you say who bought it?”
January 9th, 2012, 2:26PM: “No”
I immediately took to my twitter, where I shared the
I immediately took to my twitter, where I shared the
“news” the video had been sold and accused Ron Hinkley of
being the seller. Of all the foolish mistakes I made in the Tweet
War, this was the stupidest. I had absolutely no evidence to
prove Hinkley had sold anything besides that the video had been
sold (allegedly) and Hinkley had the video before everyone else.
I knew little about copyright laws, but I did know from a legal
consultation on January 6th that nobody can sell pictures or
videos of anyone else without their permission because they do
not own them. Technically, if a photo or video was taken in
private and not intended for promotional or marketing purposes,
it is owned by the person it is of unless they sell the copyright.
Therefore, I made the misguided conclusion that Hinkley must
have been “in on it” with Casey somehow.
That is when I received another unfortunately wrong
“tip” that a nude photo allegedly of Casey that I had first been
sent information about in August was originally sent to Ron
Hinkley. I had seen the screenshot of the original text message
that the photo was sent with and had been told it was sent to
Casey’s boyfriend, but I did not know who he was. The only
information in that screenshot was the photo, the three-word
message that accompanied it, and the phone numbers, which
were entirely blurred omitting the area codes. I knew that the
sender was in northern Florida and the receiver of the message
was in a similar area, and that should have been enough to deter
me from alleging that Ron Hinkley was that person, since I knew
that he resided in Kansas. To this day I have not been able to
confirm if the photo was even legitimately Casey, but my
confirm if the photo was even legitimately Casey, but my
suspicion is that it was fake all along.
Despite not making sure it was correct, I posted this tweet:
January 9th, 2012, 5:13PM: “Second Casey video
sold for 50k. The blood money is flowing and
@ABCnews is about to make some new friends.
#whores”
The mention of ABC was a reference to the $200,000
they paid to Casey in 2008 for photos and videos of Caylee.
The deal would cause a large backlash that would call into
question the way the media paid for interviews and would turn
the Caylee Warriors against the network.
I ended up starting a firestorm with the accusation, which
immediately spread all around twitter, Facebook, and the thirdstring
blogs. It seemed that it became fact that somebody had
been paid $50,000 for the 9-second clip of Casey and her
piercings, but nobody agreed on who the receiver of the “Blood
Money” was. Everyone from Casey to the Trentons to myself
were to take turns being bashed for cashing in, none of the
claims ever having any validity. It is my conviction here and now,
as well as that of many others involved, that nobody took any
money for any video.
As far as I have been able to trace back, my twitter
account and that fateful tweet was the beginning of this nasty and
destructive rumor. I take full responsibility for causing the fallout
destructive rumor. I take full responsibility for causing the fallout
that would result from that tweet, which I would adamantly
defend for weeks after it was posted. I trusted someone who
presented themselves as a legitimate journalist; I should have
known that in this internet-age, sensationalistic culture, those two
words were an oxymoron.
Aftershocks
The night of the 9th of January I had a vivid dream that I
have not been able to forget. I was drifting off to sleep when the
image of opening my computer and facing a pit-bull lunging at me
through the screen violated all my thoughts. I fell back to sleep
and attempted to let it go.
By the morning the Tweet War was, in my eyes, over.
My account was active, but there was little new information to
share and I was getting sick of being emotionally battered every
single day. To wake up and not know what foul thing will be said
about you today is not easy. But there was little way to simply
“back off” without my surrender providing yet more fuel for
speculation. Although I was continuing to tweet, I already
wanted out and regretted ever getting in.
One person had remained strangely quiet throughout this
entire circus, though: Casey. I did not expect Casey herself to
entire circus, though: Casey. I did not expect Casey herself to
make some kind of statement; she had not spoken publicly since
2008, but I expected an attorney for her to speak out more than
they did. Cheney Mason had confirmed that the woman in the
first video diary was, in fact, Casey, but other than that Camp
Casey had been entirely mute. This lack of a statement still
troubles me because I cannot determine the motive. Perhaps
Casey’s attorneys could have cared less that friends of friends of
hers had released a few videos; after all, nobody in the media
ever even came close to determining her location based on the
leaks. Or perhaps they were deeply concerned about the
backlash, both legal and otherwise, and decided to simply “sit on
it”. Only Casey really knows, but it is certain that she as well as
her representation at least took note of the entire mess.
Casey had been warned several days beforehand that
the video was “out”. Somewhere along the chain of leaks
someone had made a mistake and it had gotten into the wrong
hands. She checked in with her probation officer over the phone
on January 4th, 2012, and reported that her computer had
recently been hacked. Many people have cried out that this was
a lie, and that Casey should go back to jail for it.
According to every source, Casey gave the video to
others who eventually allowed it (intentionally or not) to be made
public. However, there is certain evidence that seems to imply a
hacking of some sort. There are things I am not privy to, one of
them being what, if anything, authorities did to follow-up Casey's
claims of being hacked on her January probation report. I
believe that if she were anyone else there would have been an
investigation into how these materials were made public.
I am convinced that Casey nor her legal team ever
wanted these videos released. In both videos she says the names
of people who are helping her hide. If she intended on releasing
them she would not have mentioned anybody and would likely
have tried harder to hide her surroundings, photos and award
certificates were on the walls behind her. The assertion that these
videos were a “teaser” that would somehow entice the public for
Casey's upcoming interview special is one absent of logic. There
is no way to get back that viral sensationalism of her “first words
out of hiding”; Casey's plan was to be paid for that exclusive.
As soon as the video appeared on YouTube the media
had one thing on their mind: finding Casey. They wanted to
reveal her “secret life” and be able to once again stake her out
like they had when she lived with her parents on Hopespring
Drive. Although I do not think they ever even came close to
finding Casey, Jose Baez seemed to have thought otherwise.
According to multiple sources Stan Cure and his wife believe
that Baez planted the connection to their family, telling media
sources that Casey lived there either directly or through a
middle-man of some sort to distract from Casey’s actual
location.
Despite the fact that she had not been to their home in
weeks, the Cures found themselves bombarded by media vans
and picketers alike when a story broke that they had been
Casey’s hosts for the last six months. The road leading to their
Casey’s hosts for the last six months. The road leading to their
home was nearly impossible to navigate, the lanes shoved closed
with media vans. A group of upset locals stood at the end of the
driveway, one of them wearing a large billboard reading “No
baby killers in Palm City”. The Cures strung “No Trespassing”
signs all around their property to keep the press and curious
neighbors away from their home and church.
The scene was reminiscent of the drama that had
pursued years before when protestors descended upon the
Anthonys' home in Orlando. Then, in 2008, a small toddler wore
a sign reading, "How could you kill me". In 2012 a young man
rode his bike among the media vans and protestors wearing a
sign that read "Go Away Babykiller". Throughout the next two
weeks or so the Cures would be put through inexcusable
harassment; strangers throwing rocks at their windows, a group
of neighbors standing vigil at the end of their driveway chanting
"Justice For Caylee", men bringing flowers and love notes to
their door.
Casey was not at the Cures’ home when the media
came, she had never lived there at all. A private investigator
involved in Casey’s case had attended Stan Cure’s church and
had reached out to him to help Casey. Stan was kind enough to
allow her into his home and help her in any way that he could. In
return he and his children were subjected to the limelight and
ostracized by their friends and neighbors. I am embarrassed to
say I was part of the circus that engulfed the Cure family,
upsetting their lives. The regret I feel about posting personal
information and photos of this family is one of the more guiltinformation
and photos of this family is one of the more guiltridden
lessons I have learned from this experience.
It was not the only incorrect lead that the media would
follow. Many reporters and photographers descended upon Port
Lucie, Florida when a woman there claimed to have seen Casey
driving down the street screaming on her phone. A local strip
club posted a bulletin reading “Hey Casey, we are hiring”.
Several accounts of sightings were reported, many of them were
incorrect, including one that alleged a blonde Casey was seen
speeding from the Cure home on January 15th. At the time
Casey had not been blonde in months.
The media attention the Cure family was receiving was
not pleasing to Casey. On the night of January 18th Casey called
Stan Cure furious. She had read several articles posted where
reporters claimed that Stan had originally agreed to speak to
them before backing out. Casey has become extremely
paranoid; just the thought of anyone from the Cure family talking
to the press upset her beyond words; literally beyond words,
Casey would hang up on Stan after a fierce war-of-words. Stan
Cure’s wife would wait four days before attempting to reach
Casey and scorning her for her mistreatment of her family. She
was harsh on Casey, upset about the effect Casey completely
exiting their lives would have on her children, but she also
reminded Casey she loves her. The Cures are genuine, goodintentioned
people that have been characterized in a terrible light.
They thought they had made a lifelong friend in Casey and they
could help her turn her life around. Unfortunately, they were far
could help her turn her life around. Unfortunately, they were far
in over their heads.
I have been told details of where Casey is now living that
appear to be legit, but I will not publish them here or anywhere. I
believe Casey, and those she lives with, will be in danger if she is
discovered, and I will not be responsible for any forms of
harassment. As of this publication Casey is still in southern
Florida and still lives with individuals who aided in her defense,
although she does have plans to leave the state again once her
probation ends.
On January 10th rumors alleging that Jose Baez had quit
as Casey’s attorney were intensifying. Casey had always had a
fickle, hate-love relationship with Baez. He had been her
attorney since she was first arrested and they had been through a
lengthy three-year trial together. They were a certain amount
close, but Casey has the tendencies to like control and need a lot
of attention, and Baez was not always available to give her those
things. Throughout the investigation she would frequently quarrel
with Baez, and many body-language experts commented on the
tension between them during the trial. Baez often looked
annoyed with Casey, frequently ignoring her and at one hearing
even leaning over and allegedly telling her to “stop it”.
Ron Hinkley had spoken a lot about the rift between
them. In late December when he released the first video other
supporters had warned him that they were sending it and
Hinkley’s information to Baez’s office. Hinkley’s response was
that they take it to Cheney Mason instead because things would
be changing between Casey and Baez “real soon”. As it turned
be changing between Casey and Baez “real soon”. As it turned
out, Hinkley was correct. Both Baez and Dorothy Simms would
announce that they no longer represented Casey shortly after the
video leaked.
A lot of people have alleged that Jose Baez quit as
Casey’s attorney because he was upset about the video and the
effects it may have had on any big-money interview he was trying
to sell. I, personally, do not think this depiction is accurate. I
think there were a lot issues that cropped up with the pair, and
after the criminal trial was through Casey spent most of her
“lawyer-time” with her civil attorneys.
As time wore on the third-string bash blogs and The
Pack became restless. They wanted my identity, and they were
willing to screw anyone who got in the way of that goal. I would
be forced to sit back and watch as my friends were harassed
relentlessly. My “inner circle”, those who had helped me run
@ameliasobel, were willing to defend me despite the fact that
their names were being dragged through the mud. The anxiety of
knowing that the reputation of somebody else was being
destroyed by people that really wanted me began to eat away at
me. It was difficult to watch people I cared about be put through
the wringer, but they were incredibly strong and protected me at
every turn. If it were not for these individuals, I am confident I
would have been found.
I felt I needed to back down, for the better of these
trusted friends of mine. We had a “meeting” of sorts using
Skype, the only outlet we could feel we were safely talking to
each other and not any impersonators or hackers. I explained to
each other and not any impersonators or hackers. I explained to
them that I was afraid and exhausted and did not want to
continue. I could have ended it there, and I should have. But I
was convinced that the twitter account, with its now thousands of
followers, was a valuable outlet for getting information out and
should be kept active.
I logged out from the chat and headed to bed, trying to
consider some way that I could manage to keep the account
active but totally retract my name from the entire situation. I
tossed and turned in frustration before finally forcing myself
awake and into action. I had a plan, good or not, and I was
about to execute it, for better or worse.
Part III:
My Lies
My Lies
A Killer Ruse
At 2:18am on January 16th, 2012, I changed my twitter
username from @ameliasobel to @REALsobel. The reasoning
was simple: it was my primary way of stepping down from being
in this blogosphere that I had found myself in the middle of. But it
was not the only way. It was also that fateful night that I would
begin my reliance on the New Standard; I was about to fake my
own death.
I was not the only one having a hectic night. Ron Hinkley was
still in the center of many media reports and solicitations.
Unbeknownst to me, Hinkley had only maintained one real
account where he could be contacted, his Facebook account,
which had attracted thousands of friend requests and messages.
Unfortunately for Hinkley, the majority of those messages were
extremely hateful.
Ever since January 5th Ron had been pursued endlessly
by media, a collection of “private investigators” wanting any
information he had, and a third group of which I belonged to:
angry Caylee Warriors convinced he was funneling money to
Casey. The mob had been vast and loud, Hinkley’s name ending
up being mentioned on most of the major networks in association
with Casey Anthony. I began feeling incredibly guilty when I
with Casey Anthony. I began feeling incredibly guilty when I
realized that many of the “theories” they were smearing Ron
with, namely the fact that he was Casey’s boyfriend, originated
with my twitter account. A part of me had assumed that any
legitimate news source would bother to investigate something
before just saying it, but apparently I was wrong.
Ron Hinkley’s attorney pleaded with him the night of the
8th of January to “hide out” somewhere away from his home,
since the address had been spread all around twitter and
Facebook. I was not the only one whose life was being
drastically affected by lies. Hinkley was brought to the home of
an associate of his lawyer to stay the night and let things “calm
down a little”. He was just settling into his room when the
Geraldo Rivera show came back from commercial with a
special, exclusive guest: Jose Baez. Rivera asked Baez about
Hinkley, asking if it were possible he had any contact with
Casey. Baez denied it, saying it was highly unlikely. He also
claimed that what had transpired with the leaked material was
“criminal” and that he hoped authorities were brave enough to
pursue it.
Jose Baez’s appearance on Geraldo Rivera was a
strange insight into the fracturing of the entourage that had
followed Casey looking for fame and money since before she
was ever even arrested. Many people swooped in after Caylee
was reported missing, complete strangers looking to in some
way become attached to the Anthony family. They offered them
everything from legal services to protection to bail money. When
Casey was released she was surrounded by a group of
Casey was released she was surrounded by a group of
individuals standing with their hands out. It was this internal
unrest that had led Baez here, on the verge of leaving Casey yet
still having to defend her.
It is difficult to explain to someone who has not been
through it how exhausted and defeated I felt by January 16th. I
had been put through two weeks of public harassment. I had lost
most if not all of my friends and acquaintances online, there was
barely anyone left that I could actually trust anymore. My entire
life had been thrown upside down.
I like to think of the “internet experience” similar to how
I think of a slot machine. The psychological allure to gambling is
the result of a physiological response to the immediate
gratification that the cycle can offer. A gambler does not always
win, in fact, most of the time he loses, but he still receives and
instant feedback from the machine that our brains love so much.
The internet provides an instantaneous becking to our every call.
For every bit we put in, we get something back, good or bad.
I was somewhat like an addict that evening, sitting at the machine
for hours into the night. Every time I would send a tweet I could
almost hear the sadistic anticipatory music that hummed as each
slot fell into place, “bum bum bum. . .”
I knew I was losing, but I just could not walk away. I
tried to convince myself I attempted to fake my own death on
twitter to maintain my safety, but I was lying. I faked my own
death because I allowed myself to become wrapped up in
something that was so incredibly embarrassing that I would
rather have been dead than associated with it. I felt low, very
rather have been dead than associated with it. I felt low, very
low. I felt as if I had descended into the deep underground of the
human population; land of the liars. I was not an observer
anymore, I was not a guest-star anymore; I was now part of the
permanent scum on the back of free speech.
I do not know what it is about the internet that encourages so
many to lie. The blatant, widespread lies of the internet are not
just reserved for us “crazy conspiracy theorist blogger” types,
near everyone online is using the anonymity of the internet to lie
about something. We fudge on our resumes, we post old
pictures and accept compliments on looking young, we rejoice in
the lack of a “dropped out” option on Facebook. We all have
our deviations between the life we live in there and the life we
live out here.
But the world I entered when I choose to fake my own
death was far beyond the “usual” internet lies. I took a desperate
measure and crossed a moral line. Planning and executing an
entire multiple-person operation designed to deceive people was
something that was never fun, even for a minute. As soon as I
changed my twitter name and announced I was dead, all hell
broke loose, and I cannot help but assume that was karma.
The following morning I would wake up to find that
someone had taken my old username and was claiming to be me.
As outrageous as that sounds, I also found myself memorialized
in an online grave, where many took the opportunity to spit on it.
As if the harassment and verbal abuse was not bad enough, what
I did made it ten times worse.
I did made it ten times worse.
My lying infuriated many that used to be my friends, and
turned the Caylee Warriors against me forever. Maybe it had
helped me maintain my anonymity slightly, but the hurt it caused
was far greater. I felt I had always “fought” for Caylee; my entire
reason for being involved in this mess in the first place was to
give her a voice. Now I had alienated all those who cared about
Caylee with my own stupid choices. I should have known I
would be hurting so many people; I have no excuse.
An Unlikely Ally
As soon as I “died” many of those who had once
considered me a friend became my enemies. I would estimate
that the population in the “Casey Blogosphere” is about 10,000
people. This estimate is based on an average membership in
Casey Facebook groups balanced with the inactivity of many
members (all groups have their “Like and Run” portions). That is
a lot of people to be stuck in this tiny niche of our culture in some
cult-like obsession. I do not think there is a phenomenon that is
even similar to what has begun here; it nearly calls for an entirely
new perspective on group dynamics.
Across the small social seas that separate site from site
around the web word spread: “Amelia Noel Sobel” was really a
dead person’s name. When I imagined this in my head I saw me
dead person’s name. When I imagined this in my head I saw me
walking away from twitter, handing it smoothly to somebody else
and nobody would really care. Apparently I was being watched,
becoming a staple in the third-string bash blogs. I was still too
naïve to understand what I had done to fuel their hatred.
I had a conversation with Luke Trenton for the first time in the
days after my death. He had contacted me via email with the
novel idea that we be allies of some sort. This bizarre mess had
become almost like virtual battleship, only these were real
people. I needed all the back-up I could get; my death had
scared away many who saw right through my lie. There was a
small sense of trust that I felt I had established with the people
following this circus on twitter that I totally lost the second I
decided to lie. And honestly, I do not blame them. Because I
could never come forward with a real identity or put a face to my
statements I always felt as if I were the black sheep of the bunch.
Trust was something that the Trentons knew how to
keep. It was as if their little corner of Maine was in some kind of
alternate-shifting wormhole where everyone’s reputations reflect
their true identity. They had received the video January 3rd or
4th from somebody inside Ron Hinkley’s private group. They
then brought it to media, which was the biggest mistake they
made. They became the immediate targets of every smear
campaign on any side of the lengthy and distorted social media
debate over the guilt of a young Florida mother. I understand
why they wanted a chance to tell their side on national television,
but I think that choice was exactly what led unstable people to
them.
The Trentons had been through a lot in the last few
weeks, and I was about to put them through even more. In that
first conversation I reluctantly lied to Luke Trenton, telling him I
was dead. I had not found myself in the strange and exposed
situation of being caught in a lie since I was a child. Now here I
was all grown up and confronted with what I had told Luke and
its discrepancies from the truth. Luke could have gone then and
made me out to be a fraud, but he did something surprising in
forgiving me and extending his understanding.
I am a pessimist, I do not trust strangers; I barely even trust
myself. I do not expect people to be as kind and open-hearted
as the Trentons were. They were simply good people who
became wrapped up in something far beyond what they were
ready to handle. The Trentons are a perfect “cautionary tale” of
what can happen when normal people are swept up in a media
frenzy.
It is unfortunate for me to have to admit that Luke and
Jacob Trenton still do not trust me the way I wish they did. They
are weary and doubt me; that is the way everyone has treated
me since January 5th, 2012. I do not deserve anyone’s trust. In
the world of social media we all are, as much as we would like
to think otherwise, strangers. When there is no face to what is
being written and said there is no reason to trust that individual.
Those with proven identities who can reveal their names and
faces are more trustworthy than those who cannot.
There were safety limitations I set for myself online that I
There were safety limitations I set for myself online that I
felt mandated to, the most important of which was to not form
any real friendships. I knew that as much as I enjoyed talking to
these people online, allowing them to really know me would be
the best way to put me in danger. People talk, even those who
promise they won’t, and anything you tell anyone will end up out
of context and exaggerated somewhere down the rumor line. I
tried to reciprocate a friendship with Luke Trenton, but the
bottom line of any friendship is trust, that elusive trait that I am
apparently impaired at recognizing. Maybe it was my pessimism,
maybe it was reality knocking.
Of course, the Trentons told their own untruths, despite
how hard they tried to deny it. In their initial interview bonanza
they had claimed to have first come across the video diary they
posted the same night me and many others did on a pay-perview
site. They would later insist the video came from another
source, totally omitting the pay-per-view story. I believe that the
Trentons were caught up in the media attention and feared that if
they revealed that they were not the original source and that, in
fact, Ron Hinkley was, the media would turn their interest instead
to Hinkley. It is my conviction that the Trentons actually came
across the video on Facebook where everyone else did. It was
this lie, to my knowledge the only one the Trentons told, that set
them up for months of ridicule and exposure.
The media in this Lying Society is a strange and foreign
place. It has its own rules and a perverted code of etiquette. It is
its own zone where the truth is so warped that it no longer is an
even viable concept. In the media, the “truth” is usually more
even viable concept. In the media, the “truth” is usually more
laughably fictitious than a sitcom. The media is a black hole of
lies in which even good people are warped into Satan’s
henchmen; someone like me never stood a chance.
Resurrection
On January 22nd, 2012, having taken Luke Trenton’s
advice on the truth, I decided to tell it finally. I told those I knew
well enough for them to care about the “death ruse”; needless to
say they were not pleased. It would throw the first cannon in a
whole new Tweet War, one that I would be wise enough to stay
out of. Word got out in the Casey Blogosphere, and then it was
my turn to be bashed. It was my doing, my undoing, really.
It was then that I learned an important lesson: when you
are honest, you are dignified, no questions asked. The truth is
our validation, the fruit of our curiosity’s labor. We all like to
know it; we all like to accept it, and those who tell untruths are
not accepted. Like it or not, we socialize for deep evolutionary
reasons, many of them having to do with food supplies and
safety, incredibly key ingredients in the success of any species.
Those who cannot be trusted, and worse still those who lie, need
not apply to the games of psychological selection we call
relationships.
I was back in the land of the living, but more importantly,
I was back in the land of the living, but more importantly,
I was out of the land of the liars. I no longer had anything to hide,
what I spoke was the truth. It was liberating, so much so that for
a moment I almost forgot how trapped I really was. I was still
here in hiding, where I will be stuck forever. I will never reveal
my identity because I could never do so and still feel safe. And
perhaps then the strange world of social media is where
somebody like me belongs. I belong in the shadows of fake IP
addresses and assumed identities.
I never wanted to garner attention, just the thought of a
national television appearance made me nauseous. There was a
time when I was social, when I was open, when I was trusting. I
cannot say exactly when that time ended, but I suspect it was
sometime after my divorce, an event that proved my pessimism
and fortified my social negativity. I had come from a childhood
where lying and manipulation were my only tools for coping, and
my early adulthood reminded me that those were the correct
tools for dealing with others.
The internet helped affirm for me my belief that we are all
liars. When everything is anonymous, hence giving us the illusion
that we will never be caught, we all lie, proving that we are all
liars. Underneath those aforementioned social stigmas, those
grandiose appearances of truth, we are all of the New Standard.
So maybe then it is not “new” at all, maybe lying is the Old
Standard, some evolutionary artifact from before our bandtraditions
that eventually became our societies.
That would mean that natural selection is targeting us, the
liars. It is getting rid of us one by one. My only chance of survival
liars. It is getting rid of us one by one. My only chance of survival
was to do what humans are so famous for: adapt. I had to
change, to accept and understand what I did wrong. I did not
trust in the truth, I was not brave enough. I refused to give my
loyalty to anyone and in the end, I had none. I was not the
person who I had thought I was, and that was something that
simply had to change.
Sometime shortly after I came back to life I was
confronted with the reality that I could no longer deal with any of
these theatrics going on online. It was too much for me to keep
up with and attempt to refute. The “inner circle” I had trusted so
much disbanded, the twitter account was eventually suspended,
and a strange alternate reality where there were a handful of
“Amelia Sobels” around befell me. But I had to stop caring, I
had to let go. This was not real life; this was not what was
important.
“That’s it” I announced, shoving the laptop shut and
placing it on the table in front of my husband. When he moved
his gaze to mine I suddenly saw how tired and distressed he
looked. “Finally” he rebutted. It was an emotional rollercoaster
that had taken away the little bit of security we felt we had since
moving to the west coast. In the weeks to follow I would totally
retreat from the Casey Blogosphere. I did not want to be like
those in The Pack, bitter and attention-starved. I wanted out of
this fake and volatile world that they live in.
This experience changed my life, however embarrassing
as that is to admit, and it changed the lives of others, as well.
Whether Casey realizes it or not, she has some sort of massive
Whether Casey realizes it or not, she has some sort of massive
power; her blathering four-minutes into a web cam forever
changed the lives of a score of individuals. We moved away
from the west coast partly to hide, and partly because we were
sick of the sunshine and clean air.
Empathy
So did we accomplish what we wanted to, did we find
justice for Caylee Marie Anthony? The simple, realistic answer:
no. We did nothing for Caylee, but we sure did delight Casey.
Looking at the chaos and smearing that began with her leaked
video diary now, I am sure that what ensued was exactly what
Casey could have hoped for. We tore one another to shreds in a
desperate game for attention and made a muddled mockery of
the truth. I am embarrassed to have ever been involved in
something so vile, but I was, and I see now what I did to
contribute to the lies.
I was a liar, I told untruths. But I know myself, and I
know that was not me. It was an extreme circumstance, an
incredible instant emergence into a world where nothing I knew
helped me anymore. My senses of logic and morality were
disabled. I can say now, with honesty and legitimacy, that I have
no idea what one should feel or do in the event that their child
dies suddenly. I know now for sure, from experience, that
desperation is a terrible decision-maker.
desperation is a terrible decision-maker.
On February 20th, 2012 I finally opened my eyes and
saw clearly through one of my larger moral misjudgments: I saw
Ron Hinkley. I had seen a large amount of evidence proving that
he had never communicated with me on twitter; it appeared that
I was not the only one who had attracted impersonators. I had
crucified an innocent man, a man that while loyal to his sources
had always told the truth, something I could not say about
myself.
Ron Hinkley and I had a lot more in common than I
would have believed on January 5th. We both had found
ourselves in the middle of sheer chaos and we had both been
smeared and “exposed” by the third-string bash blogs. We had
lost many old friends, gained some new ones, and pissed a lot of
people off. Ron and I found a lot of common ground, and I
began to understand how wrong I had been to doubt him. My
mistakes had sent him into hiding fearing vigilantes and legal suits.
I was lucky that Ron is a very forgiving man and he accepted my
apology.
Ron Hinkley has been maligned as the man who is in
contact with Casey, the man who is helping her sell pictures and
videos to the media. This assertion could not be more untrue.
Ron is a man with a past, one he is aware of and owns freely,
but he is also a damn good sleuth. In early July 2011 he set out
to find Casey Anthony, something that a host of media sources
and law firms could not do, and he succeeded. He continues to
follow Casey; much like all of us, his interest in her has not
waned.
waned.
But Ron and I have another thing in common now that
we did not on January 4th, 2012: we both think Casey should be
left alone. Surprisingly, while Ron supports Casey, he does not
think she is totally innocent. He, as well as I, admit that she
obviously knows more about what happened to Caylee than
what she has admitted. But the truth is, when we put our energy,
time, and efforts to hate somebody we are only empowering
them, especially in this circumstance. Casey loves attention, good
or bad, and the more we talk about her the more we feed into
that.
The only thing we could possibly do to hurt Casey would
be to ignore her. This probably will never happen, until the day
she dies she will have at least a small group of people after her.
She is dogged by the media, by the bloggers, and by the general
interest of the public. The people she has around her care little
about her or her feelings, wants, and needs. She is surrounded
by those trying to use her for their own personal windfall. If she
is ever accompanied by anyone who legitimately cares about her
she will be too bitter to know it. Any way you look at it, Casey
has a hard life in front of her.
Jeffery Carolyn would continue to fight for Casey and
her innocence, forming a Facebook group called “Defending the
Honor of Casey Anthony” specifically to send her positive
messages. He continues to send her funds to pay her probation
fees and gifts with thoughtful notes for every holiday.
I would hope that Casey would not continue to pursue
the limelight. I realize she cannot get a job in her bizarre
the limelight. I realize she cannot get a job in her bizarre
circumstance, but selling herself to the media is not worth the
money. Before her video diary leaked she was living a normal,
quiet life. She had everything she needed and was even able to
go out and socialize, the two things you would fear that she
would not be able to have after jail. I believe if Casey makes a
resolution to stay out of the media and sticks to that promise she
can live a normal life.
Unfortunately for Casey, I do not believe she will ever
shy away from the spotlight. Casey loved attention, even before
Caylee was reported missing and she was suddenly the name on
every tongue. She continues to be interested in having the
attention of both media worlds: the mainstream and social
streams. I fear that she will succumb to the attention and
promises of riches that the media has dangled in front of her and
her family for years. Casey has several offers on the table for
interviews after her probation ends; it appears she will be a
millionaire soon enough. George and Cindy did not stick to their
moral truths, they gave in to the paycheck and so will Casey.
So how do we, the mass of us that still seek some form
of justice, move on? Nothing “good” can come of Caylee’s
death. She was an innocent, beautiful, and intelligent little girl that
ended up triple-wrapped in trash bags decaying in a swamp.
There is no excuse for this. However you might feel about her
cause of death, the reality is that Caylee was betrayed and
discarded by those who were supposed to care for her. Caylee
no longer has a voice, and nobody can speak on her behalf. The
no longer has a voice, and nobody can speak on her behalf. The
mother-daughter relationship is a complicated one, and if we
were to accept the bizarre equalizer that a two-year-old is
somehow capable of adult thoughts, we must conclude that there
is a realistic chance Caylee “wants” to forgive her mother and
allow her to move on. I believe the state has a responsibility to
protect any future children of Casey’s from harm, and I believe
that they will, but for Caylee it is too late.
If the truth was really what we wanted all along we need
to face the reality that we will never have it. Casey is under no
legal obligation to ever tell the truth, and I would not bet on her
ever feeling any moral reason to do so. Even if Casey were to
confess to some kind of murder scenario, Casey’s track record
of lying would still prevent most of us from being convinced. The
investigation into Caylee’s death is closed, the trial of her mother
for her murder is over; however hard it is to accept, we must let
go of our fight for the truth we called “justice”.
Caylee should be remembered for the vibrant young girl
that she was; the contrast the image of that tiny little child has
with her ugly death is one of the more disturbing parts of this
case. I think we can all agree that the legacy of Caylee should
not be the muck-filled swamp where she was finally found, that is
not fair or accurate.
However hard we try, we will never have the truth.
Casey is the only one who will ever know for sure what
happened to Caylee Marie Anthony. And perhaps this is why we
all seek her, why we obsess over her, why we care so much.
Perhaps this is why, for the rest of her life, she will face the
Perhaps this is why, for the rest of her life, she will face the
burning light of the public’s attention. Like it or not, she still has
something we want, and she always will.
A special thanks to Robert Hensley, a man as forgiving as
he is clever.
Thank you to all of the sources I spoke to, your dedication and
smarts helped uncover this information. You did the right thing

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