It was over twenty years ago that I met the J. C. Willie family of Folsom, but it feels like yesterday. In dire straits at St. Tammany Parish Hospital, with my mother at death's door, Lillie and daughters Jody Willie Crowe and Jeannie Willie Mizell rushed to our side. Their family patriarch Mr. J. C. - former Superintendent of the Louisiana State Police (1984 and from 1987 to 1988) - had surgery at the same time as Momma. The Willies, who are good as gold, didn't know us from Adam, but they became our fast, faithful friends - a friendship that has lasted over two decades and included Momma, after her recovery.
Back in 2000, with Rodney, Betsy, and me hovering 24/7 in the ICU waiting room, it was Lillie Willie, a devoted mother and grandmother, who faithfully checked on us - morning, noon, and night. I remember her popping in around 3:00 a.m. And it was daughter Jeannie, who sat with me for hours, which turned into days and weeks, in that awful waiting room, long after her father had been discharged from the hospital. But it was Jody who, upon our initial meeting, explained forthwith that there were several sets of Willies in Folsom.
What she didn't know was that I am a native of Franklinton and that I knew what she was alluding to, though I didn't tell her at the time. Jody's disclaimer detonated my memory of a horrific happening at Fricke's Cave, as the area was then known, in the 1980s. Those of us who grew up in Washington Parish are familiar with the gorge known as Fricke's Cave, now part of the Bogue Chitto State Park. I've written about it in the past. Originally part of the Fricke family homestead, it was featured in a 1930 issue of "National Geographic." People have long picnicked at Fricke's Cave and frequented the picturesque place for recreation. It was, in fact, the site of my own delightful Sunday afternoon picnic with my husband-to-be, in 1986. And the youth of our era historically journeyed there for school field trips.
I've recounted my foray into the vicinity of Fricke's Cave, as a junior high student, part of Coach David LeSage's class at Bowling Green. Unbeknownst to me, my father, who had Coach LeSage in the National Guard, had talked with him in advance of our school trip about the inherent dangers, one of which was said to be quicksand. Accordingly, I was instructed by Coach LeSage not to step more than an arm's length from him for the duration of the day. He warned, "If you cannot reach out and touch me, you are too far." This would have been around 1976 or 1977. As it turned out, the danger lurking in Fricke's Cave was far worse than quicksand.
It was just a few short years later, at the beginning of the summer of 1980, that true tragedy unfolded in Fricke's Cave. There, eighteen-year-old Faith Hathaway was raped and murdered on May 28, 1980 - forty-two years ago this Saturday. On June 3, Robert Willie of Covington and Joseph Vaccaro of Pearl River were arrested in Hope, Arkansas, after which arrest they were charged and prosecuted for kidnapping, rape, and murder. Another individual, Thomas "Tommy" Holden, who had fled to Arkansas with them, was also arrested and charged with three "after the fact" charges. Hathaway's decomposed body was found in Fricke's Cave shortly after their capture.
Having graduated from Mandeville High School just days before, she had reportedly been with friends at an after-graduation party at a venue on the Mandeville lakefront, on the evening of May 27. Having enlisted in the U. S. Army, Hathaway was to report for duty the following day. But tragically Willie and Vaccaro set their sights on her, somewhere on or near the Mandeville lakefront. It was said that they may have offered Hathaway, on her way home, a ride. I think it's far more likely that they outright abducted her. Then, with their prisoner, they headed north to Fricke's Cave just a few miles south of Franklinton, where they committed the most heinous of crimes, violently assaulting Hathaway, holding her down, and slashing her throat. The two criminals later gave conflicting taped statements as to who held her down and who actually cut Hathaway's throat. But one was as guilty as the other.
That same summer, I was a rising junior in high school at Bowling Green, just a few miles from Fricke's Cave as the crow flies. What happened there - it was enough to make the angels weep - frightened me, as it did many. Murder didn't happen in our neck of the woods. An innocent young woman, Faith Hathaway lost her life to a couple of killers whose path she unfortunately crossed. And this horrific crime took away the sense of security of many locals. Criminals had come to the bucolic country, where we lived, worked, and went to school - evil was in our midst.
And, as it turned out, Robert Willie didn't have to travel far to reach Fricke's Cave. He apparently had connections to Folsom. The old Willie cemetery, off North Willie Road, where Robert Willie is buried, is located nearby. That day in 2000 in the ICU, though preoccupied, I heard Jody loud and clear. But I already knew. I had known for twenty years.
•Stay tuned for part two of this series, which continues with the brutal crime spree.
