(1)              October 25, 1998 was a Sunday, Walker's and Valley Paving gravel pits four miles south of Bellevue, Idaho. I had made arrangements with one of my co-workers who lived in a little "commune" as we called it to go hunting that morning out back in the gravel pit. We met just before dawn (about 6) and headed out on foot. When we were done and had gotten back to the commune I put my rifle in the back of my car. I left my knife and pistol in my pockets where they had been all the time we were out hunting. I swung past my base foreman's place which was about 1/2 way to where I was going. My foreman was cutting up firewood so I stacked it for him by his back door. I spent an hour or two helping him then headed on down the road.

(2)              When I got to my mom's who lived in Paul, Idaho, she told me my daughter was at her boy- friends so I called her to let her know I had made to my mom's and she headed my way. I tried to make a couple of calls but never got through. Some of my mothers relatives were there for my son's farewell. I talked to my sister on the phone and my son Paul showed up. (My mother's side of the family are fanatic religious as well as my son and I could not handle the atmosphere) So I thought I would wait for my daughter down the road. I called out to the house where I had lived the last 5 years prior to my divorce one last time just to make sure no one was there even though I had asked my son where his dad was. I wanted no contact.

(3)      I had just barely pulled out the drive-way when my daughter Andra turned the corner. We pulled side by side and said a few words then she turned around and followed me out toward the house. When we got to the house I pulled nose by nose with my ex's company pick-up so I was out of the way. My daughter's pick-up died on her and would not start. She had the hood up. I told her to just let it sit for now. The house sits on the frontage road. There is an over pass and off ramp about ¼ mile east of the house. No houses close by.

(4)              We walked toward the house together. I told her to lets hurry up and get the bed loaded. I had tried for three weeks to get her to help me get this bed and some of my stuff out of the house. I had called her Friday to tell her I had to work Saturday and would be down Sunday to get the bed taken apart so we could just load it up and go. She told me she had taken the bed apart but her dad made her put it back together. When she was going downstairs to take the bed apart she told me to go and check on Daisy, the pet ferret. She had not been feeling well lately. I went in and got her out of the cage and petted and talked to her. She did not want to wake up so I put her back in her cage and wandered through the upstair seeing what changes had been made in the months since I had moved out. I never saw anyone in the house and I went through every room in the upstairs. I had put my hands in my pockets when I was walking through the house. I had dirt from lying down when hunting in my pockets. When I got to the kitchen I emptied the dirt out of my pockets.

(5)              My pistol was all dusty and had dirt in it too so I dropped the clip and dusted and blew the dirt the best I could off of it. I got the cartridge out of the chamber, dusted it and put it back in the clip. I dusted my pistol and blew down the barrel trying to get all dirt out. Then I put the clip back in and locked the slide back so air could circulate and dry the condensation from my breath. I sat my pistol on the cupboard on the lefthand side of the sink. I was standing as far to the right as one could possibly stand doing nothing. My head elswhere.

2.     When it happened

(1)      I heard and sensed someone behind me when I turned around she, my ex's fiancee, was standing in the dorway looking at me. I made a comment about her sleeping in my bed. She turned and walked over and went downstairs. Me too, and at the bottom to the left was my son's room. I looked in there, went down the small hall and looked toward my daughters room where Andra was taking the bed apart and could see her on her hands and knees. I walked back to the stairs and went to go back up. I peeked my head and looked into the family room and my ex's fiancee was standing with the phone receiver in her hand. Underneath the phone was a humidifier approx. 3 ft h x 21/2 ft w x 1 ft d. I leaned with my hand above the phone over the humidifier and asked her: "What are you doing?" She swung the phone receiver at my head. I blocked her from hitting me in the head with the receiver with my right hand which spun me and as I sat on top of the humidifier I drug my left hand down behind the phone and it ripped the top of my ring finger open. When I blocked the phone she ran up the stairs. - I never noticed my finger cause everything happened too fast.- I hung the phone up hard and it never stayed so I tried again and it never stayed the second time either so I left it and went upstairs. I walked through the upstair. My ex's fiancee was nowhere just like when we got to the house and I had walked through to see what changes had been made. I walked back through the kitchen and got to the door where she had been first. Once again I sensed someone behind me and spun around. She was standing where the linoleum met the carpet of the kitchen/dining area. I looked at her puzzled wondering what she was doing, where she had come from.

(3)              In this part I will quote as was said. No one should take offense. My ex's fiancée said:" All your stuff is going to be mine. This house is going to be mine. Milo (name of my ex) is already mine. I have been fucking him for years". As she is saying this to me she keeps looking over at the counter. I automatically glanced over to see what she was looking at. My pistol. My heart jumped up to my throat and I looked back at her shaking my head back and forth. I said: "Don't even think of it." She proceeded to tell me:" I'm going to do you and then do Andra. When I call the cops I'll tell them this is what I found when I got here. A murder/suicide. I'll get Paul when he gets home. Accidents happen." I just kept shaking my head and said "don't" a time or two times. The first rule of survival is: never hesitate. When she made a move toward the pistol so did I. She was step closer but had the counter to contend with so we pretty much grabbed the pistol at the same time. When I got back standing up straight I was looking down the barrel. Between my heart pumping a hundred miles a second, the adrenaline rush, the anger of her threats to my kids, looking down the barrel, the thought that I had was one of two choices given: either bend over and kiss my ass goodby or fight like hell. I had to keep the pistol up cause my daughter was right underneath us. When the tussle or hassle first started the catch was knocked and the slide shut putting a cartridge in the chamber. The gun went off and she let go. Her eyes closed. Then I focused on the small hole (22 caliber) under her eye first then the blood squirting from behind her ear. This all was split second thinking. She fell toward me and I stepped back and she ended up right in front of my feet, arms underneath her, face strait down. Within 60 seconds or so she bled out. I stood there dumbfounded mesmerized.

3.     Right after

(1)              There was a weird gurgle that brought me part back to reality. No more blood was coming from behind her ear. The floor was now red. The blood looked like it was 3 inches thick. I bent over and looked. Then I stepped one step to the side so instead of the top of her head between my fee the side of her head was. I looked at her back to see if it was rising and it was not. The recognition of death hit me hard and I said somehow loud: "Oh fuck", and hit my hands on my knees. There was an explosion. The gun went off. I had forgotten about the gun in my hand. The second bullet went in her neck. Now I was really traumatized. My daughter screamed "Mama". I told her to stay downstairs. Had a mess to clean up. I could not let her see any of this cause I did not know how she would react or what this would do to her. I grabbed a rug and threw it over the body and proceeded in cleaning up the mess.

(2)      When my daughter came up the first time I told her to stay away. I did not want her to see any of it. She made a couple of trips with parts that she was putting in the back of her pick-up. At one time I asked her to help me like empty the bucket and she would not. I ended up dragging the corpse out of the back door. My daughter helped me once for just a few seconds to get it in the back of the pick-up.

4.     Decision Made

(1)              I could not call the cops. I would not call a cop if it was the last person on the face of the earth. I do not trust them. I have met only one officer of the law that was decent and it was in 1977. All others seemed corrupt that I have seen. It would of done no good to call 911. She was dead and there was nothing no one could have done. Calling 911 is the same as calling the cops.

(2)              My daughter in her pick-up followed me in my car. I had no idea what I was going to do with the corpse. All I knew I could not leave be as was. I drove. I was going down a gravel road and there was a 20 ft perm on my left side. All of a sudden there was an opening and the sun hit me. I just whipped in the opening. The sun was reflecting off of the water. It was the canal. I do not know exactly where I was or tell how to get there but could probably find it again. I had my daughter back up to the canal. I had to get the corpse out of the pickup. I realized death weight is very heavy when I was trying to get it in the truck. I was not going to touch or grab a hold of her and had not yet. I grabbed hold of the sleeves on sweatshirt and pulled. It gave way and I almost fell when it came off. I grabbed by bra and it busted when I jerked on it. I grabbed the bottom of the pant legs and she finally slid out of the back of the truck but the pants were almost off by that time and as she slid out they came off her too. Everything went in the canal. My daughter never watched or helped. She left as soon as the corpse was out of her truck.

5. Self Questioning

(1)              If I was asked why I did what I did I cannot answer cause I do not know. I do not even know who pulled the trigger on the first shot. All I know is after the first shot was fired I was not myself. It changed my life. Not only did I look death in the eye, I survived death, and I also witnessed death. It changes your being or if you consider your conscience your soul it changes too. I talk to myself when I have problems and try to reason or figure them out. This does not mean I am insane. I just figure this is how everyone tries to solve problems.

(2)              After it I was in a fog or daze and on automatic pilot ever since the pistol discharched the first time and I just stood and stared down. Then I was leaning on the back of my own car with my arms folded across my chest. I was watching myself from behind about 50 ft away. I bent down and stood up with the corpse's head in my hand and held my arm straight up then swung it at the canal. I put my right leg out. There was no body from where I was at leaning on my car. I got in my car and left my other self standing there. I think my daughter had the truck loaded or mabe I helped her put the mattress and box springs in. I do not remember.

(3)              When she was first shot and before she fell, the blood first spurted out on the carpet. I tried to clean up the rug was when I first noticed my finger was bleeding cause it started stinging and when I lifted my arm to look at my hand my arm was covered with my blood which blew me away cause I did not realize I was even hurt.I had hurt my finger downstairs. And I left a trail of blood from down there, stairs up, through the laundry room, kitchen, dining room and into the front room. It had got mixed with the other blood on the carpet. I do not remember if I tried to clean the carpet more when I got back to the house or not.

(4)              My daughter followed me to my storage shed to put my bed in it which I did. I left my bloody left hand print or prints whatever on the bed parts. I wiped some plasma weep off my daughter's

tailgate. We made a left hand turn headed to her boyfriend. When we first left the storage I  remember leaving. But I do not know which way we went. There are three possible way, if turned left which is what I figure we did. The next thing I remember is making a turn approximately 8 miles later and then being at her boyfriend. But to this day I have no idea where he lived. I remember having a hose in my hand and going in the house to use the bathroom. I asked his mother where the bathroom was. His younger brother had my pistol and was shooting it. When I left I was using my LH rearview mirror to back by instead of turning and looking between the seats. My stupidity cost me my LH mirror. I hit it on a fence and knocked it off.

(5)              The next thing I remember. It was dark and I was at my foreman's place again only it was about 5 hours later. I have no idea what happened in that time period. That scares the hell out of me not only cause I do not know where I went or what I did but that I was driving and do not remember none of it.

(6)              I went in my foreman's house, found him in the tub and went back to the kitchen. He came out of the bathroom and handed me my knife. I could not figure out where he got my knife from. He told me I put it in the tub. I guess I left a bloody hand print on his wall so my hand was still bleeding. My sister dropped by my foreman's house 6 or so week later. She washed it off. She said he would not cause it was mine.

5.     Caught

(1)              I stayed there but I could not sleep. I got up and went to the gravel pit where my trailer was. I went to work the 26th but do not remember much about it. Went to go work the 27th and then I walked into the office. About 4 or 6, I guess they were SWAT, came out from every where, grabbed me, threw me up against the wall and thoroughly frisked me - except my RF pants pocket. The detective put his hand part way in my pocket, then took it out. Yet all my other pockets were emptied. I had my pocket watch and the key to the trailer in it.

(2)              They took me to Hailey instead of Bellevue cause it did not have a police station. Detective Chatterton tried to browbeat me and fill me full of hogwash. I just watched and observed the arrogant bastard over the top of my glasses. There was a pink paper he wanted me to sign when he finally figured out he was wasting his breath. I think I signed but cannot remember- and I never got a copy! It had something about my miranda being read to me. Then all of a sudden he decided I needed to be searched again even though my pockets are still hanging out. He sticks his hand part way in my RF pants pocket again then decided that the female officer better do it. She searches me again and when she comes to my RF pants pocket she pull out my pocket watch and key and half a ring. When the female officer went to put the stuff on the table Chatterton leans and whispers in my ear about finding the ring at the laundry mat. I said: What laundry mat? He said something like we will finish this later. I said: It never got started. We headed in a van to Jerome 30 mph over the speed limit. He had planted the half ring in my pocket.

(3)      Since I have no idea what happens after death - I am able to give some statements about my beliefs and so forth - I could not chance that my kids could still be hurt. The taking off of the head forces, if there is a spirit, to wander for eternity: she can never threaten or hurt anyone again. My daughter already has a touch of death sickness. Hopfully some day she will be able to completely healed.

6.     Investigation

(1)              I think the rest of my paperwork will fill in some more blanks. I did receive the records and transcripts in April 2003, a year after I filed my post-conviction. Seeing as I had already filed my post-conviction the transcrips were not any good to me so I sent them out. Probably I should not have done this cause only then the battle with written words on paper started. Me, differ from everybody else, knew not at that time.

(2)      There are a few matters I would like to bring up even though they may be elsewhere in my paperwork.  First and foremost I say there was collusion and for conspiracy. I am not sure what the difference is. And I cannot prove it but I got the feeling or intuition that there was collution and or conspiracy. For some reasons I was never to have a trial. Religion played a big part in the heaviness of my sentence. I read the pre-lim for the first time 5 ½ years after the fact. I do not remember much of the first court hearings. I do not know if it was Post Traumatic Stress or dissociation or combination of both or something else but it seems that when it come to something hurting me my mind will not let it to an extent. Neither attorney ever let me know what was going on.In fact they kept things from me. I was totally in the dark. I was ignorant of the laws and the system. I still am just not quite as ignorant.

(3)              When I found things in the law books and asked about it I was always told:" it does not pertain to you". I asked about the Alford Plea and I was told the same thing: "it does not pertain you". All of them pertained to me. They lied all the way from start to finish. When I read the pre-lim I made notes and if an ignorant person like me could blow the testimones all to hell think what an attorney could do. So why did not the appointed attorney blow the testimoney all to hell? The coroner is a EMS which is Emergency Medical -?- I do not know what S stands for. Anyone from the streets could say what he said. It was more or less: There is a gun shot wound so that must be what killed the person.

(4)      I figured the person who performed the autopsy should have testified. There is a number of things the person could have died from. First: She bled to death or exsanguination. Second: The heart stopped due to loss of blood or cardic arrest. Third: Loss of blood and collapse of respiratory system. Forth: Absence of sufficient blood to brain or hypovolemic shock. Fifth: Dramatic drop in blood pressure or syncope. Sixth: Loss of oxygen to the brain or carnial ceroxia. Seventh: Lack of oxygen or hypoxia.

(5)      The coroner's testimony was very vague on the path of the first shot but very distinct on the other. He obviously had no idea which shot was fired first or second. He never mentioned that the bullet went through the carotic artery before it came out behind the ear. I am right handed - but everything is backwards. Stand face to face with someone or a mirror. A right handed person would go in on the right and out on the left. This did not happen. The bullet went in on my left and out the right. I have a bumb left hand with about a 25% disability in it. I got caught in a chain and sprocket and just about lost it. But if she is right handed it would fit her. Hope everybody can understand what I'm telling!

(6)         At the crime scene #2 or at the canal how come if I beheaded her there. There was no blood!! One would think there would be a whole bunch cause the corpse would of bleed out there? My mother was told by the officers that they could not match bullet to
gun. I do not know if that matters any or not but I assume it should matter a lot. How could I know how accurate it is, and my mom is dead so she cannot verify it.

(7)  There was all the issues and big deals made about blood this and blood that. Yet the evidence that was collected around the fire place in the front room was nothing more than rust water. My attorney kept bringing blood up so I asked him: "Whose blood is it?" He answered: "What do you mean whose blood is it?"Jesus, I did not think it was a hard question. I asked:"Is it her blood or mine?" He replied, he did not know. So I asked: "Why do you not know?" He did not answer. There was a matter of blood on the coco mat at the back door. Well, I asked: "Is it animal or human? If it is human, is it hers or mine?" There was a matter of hair on the coco mat too, long blond. So I asked: "Whose is it? Is it mine, my daughter's or hers?" He could answer none of my questions. Instead he asked if I was worried abaout leaving prints. I told him I had lived in the house for 5 years and had been coming down on weekends to do the kids and ex's laundry. There is no place in that house that does not have my prints. He looked at me like I hit him.

(8)      I was led to believe that a "crime of passion" was having to do with my ex and I said:" NO,  I got rid of him after 20 miserable abusive years. I sure as hell did not want him back." Crime of passion also is for my kids: I was protecting my daughter and myself at the immediate time and my son in the future. There was a matter of my property also. Greed is a terrible sickness, the always wanting and can never get enough and wanting more. I did not want him or the house. I wanted what was my personal property and what was awarded me in the divorce and to get the hell out of there. She could have him, the house, whatever. I started life over.Just before the scuffle she said we would always be in the way and interfer.

9. Handling

(1)              The discovery papers had the word unintelligent so many times you could not hardly tell what they were trying to put across. These were people I have no idea who they were. A joke is what the discovery was. About two months after I was arrested the Public Defender Marilyn Paul came and went through the first discovery. When I came to a discrepancy she would say: "Didn't it happen this way?" Then she started telling how it happened. I was leery and suspicious right from the beginning. This is one of the reason I say There was collusion/conspiracy.

(2)      The PSI was a joke just like the whole case was a kangaroo court. I thought a court of law was about truth and justice but apparently it is about conviction of someone anyone no matter what the situation in reality was. It's about fabrication, manufacturing, manipulation. My ex turned some papers in to the DA and said they were from my son. I sent them to my son in England and asked. One letter I knew about except someone redone it and made it 6 pages instead of the original 2 pages. The other one my son knew nothing about it and said his dad must have done it. Things I said were twisted and turned not only by my supposedly defense psychiatrist and by the PSI investigator too. I never had a chance in hell of ever having a fair trial. Every time I turned around my attorney lied to me. The PD Marilyn Paul disappeared after I asked to take her off my case. At one time I told the appointed attorney Randy Stoker to keep the PD away from me for she was lying.

(3)      I do not remember the 2nd plea hearing at all. I feel the judge abused his discretion in excepting the plea. He changed counties and moved out the county of jurisdiction which he cannot do. Everything was wrong with my case. I have gone through the ISB (Idaho State Bar) turned everyone on my case: judge, mediation, PD, and appointed attorneys including., appelate and deputy attorney general. The ISB's response: Too Bad So Sad. I turned the judge, mediator (also a judge) and my appointed attorney (who is now a judge) into the Juridical Council. The response: Too Bad So Sad. They cover each others back. The affidavits to the Judicial Council are included. Copies of what I have filed rehearing, review, ICR affidavits 34, post conviction are also included.

(4)              I filed an ICR34 (New Trial) when I was being warehoused in Gallup New Mexico. It hit Jerome Court and was filed October 29, 2001 at approximately 9.20 am. The judge tried to by-pass it and go to my postconviction. I went to court on this ICR34 which was changed to an ICR33c, withdrawal of plea with a trial, March 16, 2004 and May 5, 2004. I waited 2 years 4 months 18 days and 2 years 6 months 8 days to go to court on this situation plus it took three appointed attorneys. The first two attorneys sat on their thumb and did nothing. Of course none of my collect phone calls where ever accepted and my letters never answered. I had an attorney who sat 8 ½ months and missed time deadlines which the court never caught either. It had been Elizabeth Burr-Jones (appointed after Kershaw). She came to see me after I told her I was going to turn her into the ISB  if she did not let me know what was going on. I asked her I have got to know what evidence if any is there against me. No one has ever told me anything and I have not ONE piece of paperwork on anything that went on. She told me there was no evidence. The only thing they had against me was what my daughter said.

10. Court and Witness

(1)              Whoa, what do you mean what my daughter said? She was downstairs, saw nothing, heard footsteps and the shot. She didnot see who got shot. She could not think of anyone else who would be at the house. She was traumatized, in a type of shock.

(2)              I got to see the transcript from the priliminary hearing 5 ½ years after the fact? And still today I cannot get copy? Like so many other documents!

(3)      This is what is irritating me. I got screwed pretty bad and I was so ignorant. Reason for my motive to get back to the courts. I frankly doubt having got a fair trial and sentence within the frame of USA/ID law.

(4)      All I wanted is a fair trial but apparently that is not easy to get. If I go back into the courts I go back in carrying a first degree murder charge with death penalty I am told, threatening me: There will be no 2nd degree this time. In contrary: Acqittal because of self-defense would match with the real facts.

(5)              I consider on filing in the 9th Circuit against the three judges. State and court judges should not be run by religious cults. The US 1st Amendment gives everyone the right to believe as they see fit. I have just as much right to not believe in religion, deities as other people do believe in if they want. I should not get an excessive sentence (for 5 years the United States Supreme Court has been revising the judgments of many cases in many different States) cause I denounce the LDS cult the judge believes in  - or cause I tried to protect me and my kids, property by what I believe in. But I might have grounds to pursue a civil rights violation claim in Federal Court because of the outrageous behavior of the local authorities. Sort of like was done in the 60's and 70's in the deep south with regard to racism. That would entail an entirely different sort of legal representation. I must underline again I do not belong to the religion (like belonging to a "race") of LDS. 

(6)      Monte B. Carlson, 5th District Court, LDS member and bishop, became my judge. His dad was my high school principal and bishop of the ward when I moved to Idaho which means, the judge and I went to the same ward. In 1993 I got my name taken off their cult membership. Impartiality he was unable to question. He, US-Idaho's judge, threw my not wanting my son to go on a mission in England in my face at sentencing. Rules he laid down himself he broke.

December 2004        

Signature:     Sandy Jonas

Appendix

Representatives of the Law

(1)      Incomplete list of individualities of law and state institutions that got involved:
 

Thomas D. Kershaw, Jr.

Attorney at Law184 

Second Street West

POBox 2497

Twin Falls, ID 83303-2497

1st appointed to my situation, asked for his withdrawal cause he did not much, not to meet on phone.

Marilyn Paul, Public Defender

Works in Twin Falls, ID as public defender and

Randy Stoker, Appointed Attorney

are the very first two appointed to my case. The ones who sold me out.

Elizabeth Burr-Jones

Attorney of Law

POBox 267

Burley, ID 83318

Fax 208.878.4084

2nd one appointed to my petition for withdrawel: for 8 ½ months never heard one word from her, so asked for her withdrawal too.

Roger Harris

Attorny at Law

215 3rd Ave E

POBox 905 

Twin Falls, ID 83303

Attorney I have now. He hase done more for me than all of the other 4 put together so far.

Calvin Campbell 

Public Defender Office 

to 414 N. Lincoln

JEROME; ID 83338

Not involved unless I get a trial. Now public defender.

Cheryl Watts 

Clerk of the District Court 300 N.Lincoln 

Rm 301

Jerome, ID 83338

Office of the State Appellate 

Public Defender 3647 Lake Harbor Lane Boise, ID 83703 (FAX 208-334-2985)

>>1st plea that I refused to do and how conviniently it never showed up in the records and transcripts.<<

Brent Moss, district judge 7th District Court,

Mediator, trying to shove guilty down in my throught. Also Bishop in the LDS Church.

(2)              This is the name of the Judge that sentenced me:

Monte B. Carlson, 5th District Court.