Mother of hanged baby speaks out to raise awareness of domestic abuse signs

Early one morning, Vera Jane "Janie" Birdwell (then Huddleston) went home from her job at a diner on North Sheridan Road. It was just before 4:30 a.m. She'd left a half-hour early because she felt sick.

When she arrived at home that day, March 1, 1997, she couldn't get inside. She soon learned why.

Her then-husband had locked himself in with their 22-month-old son. He'd been trying to hang himself and their child using electrical cords and shoestrings - all of which had snapped - before she arrived.

Although neither died, Birdwell said she's been living with the trauma of that night - and the repercussions of the abuse leading to it - for the past two decades. Now in counseling and diagnosed with post-traumatic stress disorder, Birdwell wanted to share her story as a cautionary tale for other victims of domestic abuse.

"I went home, opened the door, and there it was," Birdwell said. "My life's been a living hell ever since."

Two lives almost lost

The attempted murder-suicide came after years of abuse, depression and dependency, according to accounts of the night and court records. Attempts to reach Birdwell's former husband, Jack "Wesley" Huddleston, via phone and email were unsuccessful.

Huddleston at first told Birdwell that their toddler, Dakota, had drunk poison, according to documents from his pre-sentencing investigation. He blocked her from going inside, and when he finally let her in to grab some diapers before they left for the hospital, she found her apartment in shambles.

She remembers red picante sauce dripping from the wall. Plastic dishes melted to her stove. Photos torn to pieces and soaked in bleach.

"Out of $300 in groceries (in the refrigerator), I had two cans of Pepsi and my light," Birdwell said.

As Birdwell and Huddleston rushed to the hospital with Dakota, Huddleston revealed what had really happened: He had tried to hang himself and their child.

Birdwell at first thought he was lying, but when they pulled into the well-lit hospital parking lot, she saw the red marks on her son's face and neck.

Huddleston was arrested that night. He was later sentenced to 37 years in prison for injury to a minor child. He was released after 14 years and now lives in Tulsa with his new wife.

A sad cycle

To understand what Huddleston did 20 years ago, one needs to travel back another decade.

In 1987, about a year after his biological father committed suicide, 15-year-old Huddleston was admitted to a mental health treatment facility for chronic depression and suicidal thoughts. He was moved to another center about a month later for long-term treatment, according to court documents.

Documents from his stay and treatment indicate that he had a chaotic home life, characterized by a lack of supervision and abusive and alcoholic caregivers.

This sort of upbringing is common for abusers, said Donna Mathews, Domestic Violence Intervention Services chief operating officer.

Many of the people who go through offender programs at DVIS have been abused themselves. Those behavior patterns repeat themselves, and often those children grow up to become abusers, she said.

Although the manner in which Huddleston attempted the murder-suicide wasn't necessarily common, Mathews said abuse spilling over from an intimate partner to a child is.

"It's sad but true. They harm the children in many ways, and it's not about the kids. It's about the partner, just to make her miserable and to show her the power that they have. It's about power and control," she said.

Court records detailing Huddleston's suicide note indicate that he had similar intentions.

As Birdwell looks back at her time with Huddleston, she can see it for what it was: domestic abuse - and she didn't know how to deal with it. She doesn't want that to happen to anyone else.

She says it started with isolation from her family. Then the slapping, hitting and knock-down-drag-outs. Soon possessions started disappearing. She was being watched. Getting excessive phone calls.

"I didn't know anything about domestic violence, didn't know there was places to go. If I'd known, it probably would have been a different outcome," Birdwell said.

Mathews said other red flags from an abusive partner include threats of suicide, sleeping with a gun, getting rid of cellphones or not providing a home phone, and taking the only vehicle.

Having gone through it herself, Birdwell noticed when her niece Kristin Smith was going through the same. Birdwell told her, "When you're ready, call me."

Smith eventually did, and now the two are living together and helping each other.

When the Tulsa World spoke with Smith and Birdwell in early March, Smith had just returned home from a therapy session. When asked what she most wants others to know about domestic violence, she answered quickly.

"If they say they won't, you best believe they damn sure will," Smith said. "If they say they will never hit you, they will never lie to you, they will never cheat on you - they will sure do it."

Lingering effects

Birdwell has trouble trying to ignore the past. It's always on her mind.

She says she can't sleep most nights because of it. She's always looking over her shoulder. When she closes her eyes, all she can see is her child being hurt.

Although Dakota's near-hanging continues to affect his mother's life, the now-22-year-old says he tries not to dwell on the past - although he does still think about it.

"You being a child and you growing up hearing something like that - I guess you just learn to shrug it off, because nothing is separating me from anybody else, except I had something really bad happen to me," Dakota said.

He says he doesn't hold a grudge against Huddleston, who he said has turned his life around.

A few years after Huddleston was released from prison, he called Dakota to apologize.

"I said, 'It's all right, dude. That s--- happened 18 years ago. Whatever.'"

Dakota said he considers himself successful. He graduated from high school and joined the Army. He lives in California with his wife, who he says is his rock. They had a baby girl in October.

He doesn't remember the night he almost died, but he can't ignore it. It won't go away. He said he used to be embarrassed to talk about it but now uses it as a way to see how far he's come.

"You can't let stuff hold you down, because if you let stuff hold you down, it keeps you from growing," he said.