Marietta Jaeger-Lane has been through one of the worst things imaginable, and yet not only does she forgive the man who caused her so much pain, she also fought for his survival.
It started in 1973 on an idyllic and much longed-for camping trip in Montana.
Marietta was putting her five children to sleep, and because it was crowded in the tent she could only stretch far enough to give her youngest daughter, Suzie, a light peck on the cheek. Not content with that, little Suzie scrambled over her siblings in their sleeping bags and gave her mum a big hug and kiss. That was the last time Marietta saw Suzie.
That night seven-year-old Suzie was abducted. The kidnapper made contact several times wanting a ransom but no one really knew what had happened to her until a year later, when he called Marietta again, at her home.
“His intention was to taunt me, get me riled up and hysterical, then hang up,” says Marietta, “but what he hadn’t counted on was the spiritual journey I’d been on, from wanting to kill him with my bare hands to coming to an attitude of concern and compassion for him. He was taken aback and ended up staying on the phone for an hour and a half. He let down his guard so much that he inadvertently revealed enough information so the FBI could identify him.”
He gave a complete confession, and it came to light that he was “a very sick young man”, as Marietta puts it. “I don’t know whether he could ever have been healed,” she says.
“It was pretty horrible. There’s nothing that you can think of that didn’t happen to my little girl. He’d killed many children, but she was the only one he had kept alive for a week and a half before he took her life.” She said he didn’t actually intend to kill her but she was struggling, and to control her he put his hands on her throat.
The passing of 40-plus years has allowed Marietta to talk about it without breaking down, but as a listener it’s very hard not to be emotional. It’s not just her story; it’s her composure, dignity and thoughtfulness which move you. Officially, Marietta didn’t have a say in the man’s sentence, but she told the court that she didn’t want him to get the death penalty. She was listened to because she had been so instrumental in resolving the case.
“Both the head FBI agent and prosecutor were Christian men and they agreed with me that killing was wrong, so they were very happy to change his sentence to mandatory life imprisonment without any chance of parole instead of the death penalty.”
As things turned out, the murderer took his own life in prison, but not before Marietta managed to meet him face to face. She wanted to know more about him.
“To be able to forgive, it’s very helpful to see that person as a human being, know their background and understand how they became the sort of person who could commit a terrible crime like that.”
The obvious question is: how can she forgive? Many people would be in awe of Marietta and full of admiration, but there are others who would be incredulous and even suspicious.
Marietta is not surprised or offended by the idea of people doubting her. “People have said that I should be executed. They think I couldn’t love my little girl enough if I don’t want the man who hurt her killed, but to take on the same mindset as him would be to violate her again.
“You know, forgiveness takes time. It took a real effort to keep calling myself to the truths of my faith, which say that however the kidnapper was behaving, he was a son of God. In God’s eyes, he was just as precious as my little girl. And that’s hard to accept when you’re dealing with the loss of someone who is so dear to you. But it’s possible.”
Marietta now campaigns for an American group called Journey of Hope. It’s mostly made up of victims of crime who, despite what they’ve been through, still believe the death penalty is wrong. I met Marietta and others members of the group in Texas, where a death by lethal injection had taken place just a day before our meeting. Journey of Hope went to the Polunsky Unit, the official name of Death Row, to show their opposition.
Being part of this organisation seems to have helped Marietta make some kind of sense out of this horrendous experience. “I certainly grieved and raged,” she says.
“But I ended up putting it in the hands of God. God has given me the opportunity to speak all around the world, help others understand the importance and necessity of forgiveness and show that it is possible. If I can forgive in such horrible circumstances then others can deal with whatever situation in their own life needs forgiving. I hold myself up as example of what can happen if people are willing to set themselves free of hatred.
“As justified as we may feel about them, in the end negative feelings like rage, hatred and revenge are not healthy and we need to let go of them and move on with our lives.”
Siobhann Tighe is a BBC reporter who has just returned to Britain after travelling around Europe and America. She won a Winston Churchill Memorial Trust bursary to research radio programmes made by prisoners and ex-prisoners.
Areas of Catholic Herald business are still recovering post-pandemic.
However, we are reaching out to the Catholic community and readership, that has been so loyal to the Catholic Herald. Please join us on our 135 year mission by supporting us.
We are raising £250,000 to safeguard the Herald as a world-leading voice in Catholic journalism and teaching.
We have been a bold and influential voice in the church since 1888, standing up for traditional Catholic culture and values. Please consider donating.