I was thirteen years old when Ted Bundy was electrocuted on Friday, January 24, 1989. It was the middle of my eighth grade year and I was completely oblivious to the media circus taking place over 500 miles south of me in Starke, Florida. Such was the hysteria surrounding the event that shock-jock Howard Stern even asked Floridians to turn off their electricity so 2000 volts would be available to execute America’s most hated killer. My life had never intersected with the man who had been accused of murdering at least thirty-six women throughout the United States. I was in no way connected to his crime spree or his self-directed demise.
Despite the distance between us, on the day Ted Bundy died, I was just one year older than two of his victims. Both Lynette Culver of Pocatello, Idaho and Kimberly Leach of Lake City, Florida were twelve when they were kidnapped and brutally murdered. Their lives had not truly begun nor had they even started to discover themselves. Both girls were abducted near their middle schools, places where they should have been safe. At such a young age, it’s truly impossible to imagine danger lurking in such an unexpected place. Lynette’s body was never found, but Kimberly was located in an abandoned pig shed 35 miles from where she was abducted. She had been brutally assaulted and strangled. The medical examiner posited that she was strangled to death while being assaulted.
Though such young victims weren’t necessarily Bundy’s preferred “type” of victim, most having been in their late teens or early twenties, he was clearly not adverse to taking advantage of any young female who crossed his path. That is truly something to consider when recognizing that anyone could have been susceptible to the murderous rage of a psychopathic personality. As Bundy so succinctly said, “We serial killers are your sons, we are your husbands, we are everywhere. And there will be more of your children dead tomorrow.”