Note: Crosby’s verbatim statement and all her correspondence to me and my wife leading up to her articles about my case can be found below, so everyone can see the “journalistic process” and the many faces journalists from the LVRJ have.
“First things first I’ma say all the words inside my head I’m fired up and tired of the way that things have been, oh ooh The way that things have been, oh ooh Second thing Second, don’t you tell me what you think that I can be I’m the one at the sail, I’m the master of my sea I was broken from a young age Taking my soul into the masses Write down my poems for the few That looked at me took to me, shook to me, feeling me Singing from heart ache from the pain Take up my message from the veins Speaking my lesson from the brain Seeing the beauty through the pain Third things third Send a prayer to the ones up above All the hate that you’ve heard has turned your spirit to a dove. Your spirit up above” -“Believer” by Imagine Dragons
“Show me how to lie You’re getting better all the time And turning all against the one
Is an art that’s hard to teach Another clever word Sets off an unsuspecting herd And as you get back into line A mob jumps to their feet Now dance, fucker, dance Man, he never had a chance And no one even knew It was really only you And now you steal away Take him out today Nice work you did You’re gonna go far, kid With a thousand lies And a good day’s write Hit ’em right between the eyes When you walk away Nothing more to say See the lightning in your eyes See ’em running for their lives Slowly out of line And drifting closer in your sights So play it out I’m wide awake It’s a scene about me There’s something in your way And now someone is gonna pay And if you can’t get what you want Well it’s all because of me And now you’ll lead the way Show the light of day Nice work you did You’re gonna go far, kid, trust, deceived!And no one even knew It was really only you”-You’re Gonna Go Far, Kid” By The Offspring
“Take away your things and go You can’t take back what you said, I know I’ve heard it all before, at least a million times I’m not one to forget, you know I don’t believe, I don’t believe it You left in peace, left me in pieces Too hard to breathe I’m on my knees right now I’m so sick of that same old love, that shit, it tears me up I’m so sick of that same old love, my body’s had enough I’m so sick of that same old love, feels like I’ve blown apart
I’m so sick of that same old love, the kind that breaks your heart”-“Same Old Love” by Selena Gomez
“I distrust summaries, any kind of gliding through time, any too great a claim that one is in control of what one recounts; I think someone who claims to understand but who is obviously calm, someone who claims to write with emotion recollected in tranquility, is a fool and a liar. To understand is to tremble. To recollect is to re-enter and be riven. An acrobat after spinning through the air in a mockery of flight stands erect on his perch and mockingly takes his bow as if what he is being applauded for was easy for him and cost him nothing, although meanwhile he is covered with sweat and his smile is edged with a relief chilling to think about; he is indulging in a show-business style; he is pretending to be superhuman. I am bored with that and with here it has brought us. I admire the authority of being on one’s knees in front of the event.”-Harold Brodkey. Quoted in Jon Krakauer’s “Into Thin Air”
The past couple months have been difficult, to say the least. These two months have been like a truncated microcosm of the past two decades. The song and book quotes above are a synopsis of my thoughts and feelings the past two months. First, a quick explanation of everything above. The “headline” for this entry is a satirical spotlight on the total lack of journalistic integrity inherent in the Las Vegas Review-Journal “reporting”. It’s the same kind of incendiary click-bait the LVRJ uses on a regular basis, and used on Twitter, Facebook, and their website in writing about my case in an attempt to manipulate Twitter trends through inorganic activity. Worse than outright fake news is the manipulation and misrepresentation of facts and information to deceive the public and manipulate their emotions for the purpose of protecting corrupt and malfeasant public officials. If I were to give this blog post a real headline, it would be “Disinformation campaigns. Inside the Las Vegas Review- Journal’s War on Jeremy Strohmeyer.” Manipulating information the way the LVRJ does is akin to a petty parlor trick by a second-rate magician in a person’s home to distract from the magicians cohorts robbing everyone blind. “Hey, watch my left hand while my right hand deftly picks your pocket.” A petty but effective ruse.
The click-bait “headline” above is also for the purpose of illustrating and highlighting the discrepancy between Crosby’s public writing and her more private musings. While feigning sympathy for Sherrice in her articles, Crosby expresses what seems like disdain for Sherrice in her letter to me. This isn`t exclusive to Crosby, but rather reflects a reality inherent in media in general–a general fakeness in dealing with individuals and the public at large when pursuing stories. I leave it to whoever reads this to reconcile the discrepancies between the perception and the reality.
Now the song quotes and the quote from “Into Thin Air.” I am fired up and tired of the way that things have been, but at the same time, all the hate I’ve heard has turned my spirit to a dove. Whenever I think or talk about my case, about Sherrice, I always send a prayer to the ones up above. I approach on my knees, head bowed, and full of reverence. Such a tragedy deserves nothing less. Sherrice deserves nothing less. I have lived this, paid for this, for the past twenty years, and my knees are battered, bloodied, my heart reverent and penitent. So when this tragedy is trivialized and sensationalized by people who weren’t there twenty years ago; people who won’t deign to actually search for or report the facts, the truth; people who seek personal enrichment and gain off of other’s pain and suffering; my heart hurts and an anger stirs inside of me.
“You’re Gonna Go Far Kid”, is for Crosby and Dave Cash. When Crosby first approached my wife about her planned article, it was my hope that she would approach this with a journalistic integrity, a commitment to truth, and not a carnival barker’s penchant for sensationalization. I hoped for fresh eyes seeing and speaking the truth instead of spouting off the same inflammatory rhetoric and repeating the same half-truths and lies of twenty years ago to maintain the original fake narrative thread created by Ramos and the Long Beach police and so deftly woven into a tapestry by the D.A. and Las Vegas media. Well, as the old adage goes: hope in one hand and shit in the other and see which one fills up first.
I was recently reintroduced to Shakespeare’s superior word play, his penchant for puns and ironies through choice of words. The figurative and literal blurred, sometimes existing separately, sometimes existing simultaneously, sometimes both at the same time like some bizarre effect of quantum physics shown in words. That’s the spirit of the “Same Old Love” quote. Crosby’s repetition of the same old public ridicule and disparagement against me is “the same old love.” Obviously the hate and vilifying is the opposite of love, but the attention they shower on me is the same amount of attention poured on someone by another who loves them, and the LVRJ loves sensationalizing and promoting this tragedy. Such is the irony of “the same old love.” Crosby and her cohorts don’t care about the effects of their words beyond what they can profit from them. They probably hope, like Ramos, that they can incite violence against me, get me murdered here in prison, by publishing and promoting the most inflammatory and prejudicial things possible to inflame the passions of the public against me. Or they just don`t care. They leave in peace and leave me in pieces. I`m so sick of that same old love, and it breaks my heart. It tears me up.
Every day I quietly strive to do good, be good, lead a good life. I strive to accomplish things for the good of all, hoping for a sense of making a difference. I had committed to a couple of different guys in here to help them with challenges in their lives before the LVRJ articles about my case were published, and local news stations picked them up and ran with the story. Everyone knows that the most despised and reviled cases are those that involve the sexual assaults and murders of children, especially in prison. So it’s no surprise that the sensationalized publicizing of my case pretty immediately led to everyone in here talking about me and my case. Not the actual truth and facts of it, mind you, but rather the screaming headlines of the most sordid details.
I was already anxious and depressed before the LVRJ articles came out, dreading the fallout, anticipating the need for hypervigilance to keep from getting murdered, from someone assaulting or attempting to murder me again, after Crosby approached my wife. When the whispers started again, I girded myself for the worst. Instead, I had heartfelt conversations with both friends and acquaintances about media manipulation, corrupt police tactics, pain, contrition, and forgiveness. Anyone who gets to know me knows I`m not a child molester, not some psycho killer, not some heartless asshole intent on raining down pain and misery on the world. Anyone who doesn’t know me and forms their opinion based solely on the LVRJ coverage would think me a monster.
The first to approach me were my friends, guys who already knew what I was in prison for. They let me know that they were talking about my case on tv, and everyone in here was talking about it. The second to approach me was a black kid (24 years old–which is still a kid to me) I had been helping out with advice and the proverbial shoulder to cry on. He has two young daughters, one being treated for cancer, so the way they presented my case on the news hit him hard. However, he had already gotten to know me over the past few months, and the reality of who I am didn`t jibe with the media presentation. So instead of immediately inflicting a physical assault on me the way the media presentation made him want to, he asked me about it and told me how upset he was by it.
I got to tell him the things the media left out, the actual truth of the matter. I was on my way to Vegas with my best friend, David Cash, when I was eighteen. A selfish, self-destructive little punk, I did meth, took pills, and drank until blacking out that night. I had no memory of what happened, but when I woke up in Vegas the next morning, a little girl was dead. She was violently sexually assaulted and murdered. Dave knew I had blacked out and that he was the only living person who knew what happened in that bathroom stall. When we got back to Long Beach, Dave went to the cops and cut a deal to testify against me. There was no evidence at the crime scene, in the bathroom stall–at least no evidence against me. There were fingerprints, but they didn`t match me. There was no physical evidence: No DNA, no fibers, no skin, no hair, no footprints, nothing. A violent sexual assault and murder in a small enclosed space and there’s no physical evidence? That defies credulity. If you talked to me and talked to Dave Cash twenty years ago, and someone asked you which of us would be more likely to commit this crime, you would invariably say Dave. However, our justice system rewards snitches who are willing to testify against co-defendants regardless of who is guilty of what. Truth takes a backseat to getting someone, anyone, convicted of the crime. Despite being at the crime scene, and having the same amount of physical evidence against him as against me, Dave was never charged with any crime.
The actual evidence they had was surveillance camera footage showing both Dave and me following Sherrice into a corner where there were entrances to a men’s bathroom and a women’s bathroom where in Sherrice’s body was later found in a bathroom stall. The media invariably stated that the camera footage showed me following Sherrice into the bathroom when it in fact did not; and the media tended to leave out the part about Dave following Sherrice under the camera. The only other evidence was a cigarette butt that crime scene photographs show was planted by the police in an ashtray at the entrance to the women’s bathroom. That cigarette butt supposedly had my DNA on it, but the DNA was tested by the police lab and was supposedly completely destroyed in the testing process, making it impossible to confirm or disprove the police lab finding that it was my DNA.
Like most middle-class white Americans, I was always taught that the police are our friends, they resolutely uphold their duty to pursue the truth and uphold the law in protection of all of us, and that I should always trust them. So the thought of police detectives destroying evidence, lying, intentionally eliciting false confessions, and trying to mold evidence and perceptions to convict whomever they’ve chosen to convict regardless of the truth seemed impossible to me when I was eighteen, and probably still seems impossible to some people. For those people with that unwavering faith in the police and other government and public institutions, I don`t blame you. I mean, who would want to think that the institutions meant to protect us are actually filled with people who have no qualms about violating the very laws they’re meant to uphold in order to protect us? That’s scary. However, I hope you blindly faithful never end up on the wrong side of those people or institutions because they will use that faith to destroy you.
So, not knowing whether or not I had committed these crimes, I assumed that I was at least guilty in part and tried to kill myself. A bottle of pills, a bottle of Jack, and some beer. The Long Beach police arrested me shortly thereafter, and drove me to the hospital when my mom told them I’d taken the pills. While I was still semi-coherent in the car, I asked for a lawyer, and the Long Beach detectives told me I didn`t want a lawyer before beginning their interrogation on the way to the hospital. They never read me my Miranda rights.
Unless you’ve studied interrogation techniques of the time, or have been subjected to a full-blown interrogation by seasoned detectives, you have no idea how they actually work. They don`t ask questions so much as they tell you what they want you to say and lead you to giving the answers they want by giving you information and getting you to repeat it. Initially, I said nothing, just cried like the 18-year-old boy I was. When I refused to talk to the doctors and nurses at the hospital, they threatened me in order to get me to respond and comply with their requests, telling me to piss in a cup or they would shove a tube up my dick. As the drugs entered my system, they took my blood and urine, and I started wavering on the edge of consciousness as they stuck a tube up my nose and down my throat to pump my stomach. The whole time the detectives kept interrogating me. I was high, drunk, confused, and terrified. They were methodical and relentless, giving me the information from the crime scene they had at the time. When I finally started talking, I told them the truth: I had blacked out and had no memory of what happened. That led to a long list of hypotheticals: “Well, is it possible you did this and that even if you can’t remember it?” Of course, anything is possible, and your admission to those possibilities is the first step toward eliciting a false confession.
After the hospital, it was off to the Long Beach police station to continue the interrogation in a room with a hidden microphone and tape recorder. A few more hours, and I was ready to tell them whatever they wanted to hear so I could go to sleep. They drilled me and made sure I was repeating everything they said perfectly before they brought in Las Vegas detective Ramos in with his own tape recorder. I sat across the table from Ramos in a small room with the Long Beach detective sitting right behind Ramos, nodding at me to answer yes at certain points, and shaking his head when I should answer no. I recited what the Long Beach detectives had told me to say. All told, I think it took about five hours from the time they arrested me until they got that false confession out of me.
Afterward, the Long Beach detectives said they had read me my Miranda rights and said I had just started confessing straightaway, and that I spent all those hours just confessing non-stop, that I was completely sober and coherent during this supposed marathon confession. It came down to my word against theirs. Wait, you say, what about the urine and blood from the hospital? Well, that was destroyed by the police, and they said they “lost” it. Hold on, you say, the hidden tape recording of the Long Beach interrogation will prove the truth of the matter one way or another! Nope, sorry, foiled again by the police: the tape was destroyed by the detectives, and they said it was “water damage.”
After about a year-and-a-half of constant media attention on my case, with the media(particularly the LVRJ)repeating the police and D.A. narrative and sensationalizing the case as much as possible, getting an impartial jury in Vegas would have been impossible. My parents had spent all their savings, mortgaged and sold everything they owned to pay for the supposed best lawyer, Leslie Abramson. However, once they ran out of money, Leslie tricked me into taking an involuntary and unknowing plea bargain for life without.
I explained all this to the kid, then explained how it doesn’t matter what I did or didn`t do that night, it doesn’t matter what Dave did or didn`t do: at the end of the day, I chose to have a scumbag best friend, chose to drink and do drugs until blacking out, and a little girl died as a result. If I had been in my right mind and not blacked out that night, nothing would have happened to Sherrice. Not only because I would not have done anything to harm her, but also because I would not have let anyone else do anything to her. But because I was blacked out, the horrible tragedy happened, and I had to pay for that. And I have paid for it for the past twenty years, paying my penance.
When Crosby approached my wife, it was shortly after I had seen a documentary about kids with life without in Massachusetts getting parole hearings after life without for juveniles was deemed cruel and unusual punishment by the U.S. Supreme Court. The common thread in what the victims’ families said was that it was extremely painful for them to revisit the loss of their loved ones. So my concern with the LVRJ’s quest to publicize everything again was the effect it would have on Sherrice’s family. Crosby and the LVRJ had-and have-no interest in seeking the truth that is more complex than the original simplified narrative, nor did they seek to change the outcome: they just wanted to rehash the gruesome details with no concern for how it might affect Sherrice’s family. I, however, want peace for Sherrice’s family.
In discussing this, the kid said that if it was him, he would send flowers to Sherrice’s mom every year, on the anniversary of Sherrice’s death. I told him I thought that was a bit macabre and stalkerish, but that when I wrote Crosby, I asked about reaching out to Sherrice’s family to ask their forgiveness and to tell them the man I am today is not the boy I was twenty years ago. The kid grew up in the inner city, lived the gang life, and saw his share of violence and senseless tragedy. Based on his experiences, the losses he’s seen, he thought I should do my best to reach out to Sherrice’s mom. He said he would actually reach out to her online on my behalf so he could tell her what he saw in me himself, if I was telling the truth and could show him paperwork that confirms what I said about there being zero physical evidence against me in the bathroom stall. Now I have to get my wife to go through the tens of thousands of pages of discovery to find that because I do want the chance to reach out and apologize, and ask for forgiveness.
The kid is way more street-smart than I ever was at his age, so he understood the detectives eliciting a false confession, and he had been through similar interrogations himself. We talked about police corruption, destruction and withholding of evidence. After talking with the kid, I helped him write a letter to his baby mama to put his feelings for her and their baby into words because he had asked me to. It wasn’t much, but it was my way of helping him and doing something positive for him. I`m a true believer that the small things make a difference.
After the kid talked to me, another couple guys talked to me. One had a murder case where he killed a woman and paralyzed a man during a shoot-out in a casino parking lot. He got eight to twenty years. Another has a second-degree murder conviction and a life with parole after ten years. Their experiences with the media and criminal justice system were similar to mine, except they were more savvy than I was when it came to the criminal justice system, so they weren’t so easily manipulated by detectives and lawyers. A few days later, a guard I’d previously conversed with about economics and criminal justice mentioned to me that he had seen the LVRJ stuff online, and that he thought I should be given a chance at parole since I was a teenager at the time and I had been in prison twenty years already. I really appreciated that. Around the same time, another inmate I did not know tried to talk shit to me in front of guards and other inmates because of what he had seen on the news.
When it comes to situations like that, I won’t get into a public shouting match or confrontation, so I ignored the guy. The next day I caught him by himself and let him know that he didn`t know me, and that the media representation is neither the whole story nor who I am as a person. Again, he got loud as he walked away from me, so I figured he would want to come at me physically when he had the chance. My rule has always been that I will avoid physical violence if at all possible, and will take physical action only if someone lays hands on me first, and even then only if the man attacking me actually has the power to physically harm me. I`ll defend myself, but I`ll always do my best to defuse the situation beforehand so it doesn’t come to that. When the kid had approached me a few days earlier, he let me know the news story had made him want to beat the shit out of me, and I let him know I didn`t blame him because the media representation is so horrible and so far from the truth, and it’s a horrible crime. So I would take my lumps if it came to that.
Ironically, after the kid heard about my confrontation with the other inmate–whom he knew–he went to him (without telling me), and told him the actual facts as I had described them to him. After that, the other inmate actually came up to me and apologized. He didn`t know me but he knew the kid and trusted his word and judgement. That’s usually the way of it: anyone who actually knows me knows that the media representation of me is the exact opposite of who I actually am. It’s the people/inmates who don’t know me that I have to worry about. So now I have to keep my head on a swivel and be prepared for a blindside attempt on my life at any moment while keeping from letting that hypervigilance turn into full-blown paranoia. It’s a balance, a fine line to be walked, in order to keep from getting got.
Despite the anxiety and depression, I had to help another guy fill out a pardons board application. He was one of the four people involved in a robbery and first-degree murder when he was twenty-eight. One of the four murderers went to the police and cut a deal, and never got charged with any crimes. The other three didn`t and got convicted. The guy I`m helping got a plea-bargain for life with parole after twenty years, but having already served over ten years and having dropped out of the gang he was in and having changed his life, he wanted a chance at parole sooner. I helped as best I could, because anyone with a contrite spirit who wants to do good should get a second chance.
So, that’s the personal experiences for me this past month or so. This post is too long as is, so I`m going to wrap this up here. Here is the correspondence, in chronological order, between Rachel Crosby, my wife, and myself. I`ll address the LVRJ articles, the purpose of journalism, and journalistic integrity in my next post. Thank you for taking the time to read all this, to hear my side of things.
Crosby and my wife initially exchanged two voicemails before the following e-mail corresponded was exchanged:
April 19th, 2017 from Desiree Strohmeyer to Rachel Crosby
Hi Rachel,
I apologize for not getting back to you sooner. I’ve been pretty busy and went out of town. I haven’t had a real chance to talk to Jeremy about this yet, but I will hopefully this weekend. Would you mind telling me what your interest in the case is? It has been quite a while.
Thanks,
Desiree
April 19th, 2017 from Rachel Crosby to Desiree Strohmeyer
Hi Desiree, it’s good to hear from you. I wanted to give you time and space to talk with Jeremy about it and hoped to touch base with you next week, so your email is actually great timing.
As for my interest, I’m working on a story about the case as it will be 20 years in May. I will be upfront with you — I am looking at the case from all angles, including the victim’s side (though I haven’t been able to make contact with the victim’s family yet).
That being said, 20 years is a long time. You do not have to talk about the case itself, unless you or Jeremy wants to. I was just hoping to have an honest conversation about where you both are in life now. And after reading some of your blog posts (and Jeremy’s) I am interested in how you and Jeremy are able to maintain such a seemingly healthy relationship given the situation you are in. (By the way, you both are great writers).
I again just want to emphasize I am coming into this story as a blank slate. I have no preconceived notions about Jeremy or you or what the story will say. What I write and print will depend entirely on how much you both want — or don’t want — to share.
I was hoping to chat next week or, at the latest, if possible, the week after next. I am flexible, and since I can’t visit Jeremy (the prison will not allow media interviews on property, which is another story), I want you both to know I’d feel comfortable talking on the phone with him in your presence (if that’s what you both would like).
I realize this is a lot so feel free to touch base with me next week. You can reach me here or at 702-***-****.
Best,
Rachel
April 22nd, 2017 from Desiree Strohmeyer to Rachel Crosby
Hi Rachel,
I hope your weekend is going well. I did have the chance to speak with Jeremy today about you contacting me and your e-mail about what your interest in the case is. He would like you to send him your CV, some samples of your work, and give him more of an idea of what you’re wanting to know for your piece. He can be reached at:
Jeremy Strohmeyer
#59389
HDSP
P.O. Box 650
Indian Springs, NV 89070
Mail gets to him from Las Vegas pretty quickly, so if you could send that info over, that would be great. It is a max of 20 printed pages per envelope, FYI.
As for my involvement, I`m not sure how much more information I can provide to you for your story other than what is written in my blog. I`m certainly not opposed to some questions for review and that I can review with Jeremy.
Take care,
Desiree
April 24th, 2017 from Rachel Crosby to Desiree Strohmeyer
Hi Desiree,
I’ve talked with my editor and we agreed that should be fine. I will get a few clips together this afternoon & I will mail the packet either today or tomorrow, so he should get it soon.
What is the best way to get hold of him, if he agrees to chat? I want to know if I should include any specific contact info in the packet.
Thank you,
Rachel
April 24th, 2017 from Desiree Strohmeyer to Rachel Crosby
Okay, awesome. I`ll let him know that some info is on the way to him. He can be reached via mail initially and if you would like to speak with him on the phone, and he agrees, I can certainly facilitate that with letting you know the times he is out for tier and what would work best. His schedule is a bit all over the place and lately there have been a lot of lock-downs, so it does get a bit precarious trying to speak with him on the phone at a scheduled time because he can only call out and not receive calls, as you know. I have your desk phone number and if you’d like to provide a mobile, it is a number I can also keep on hand for Jeremy. If not, I`m open to meeting up and taking a call from Jeremy for you to talk to him, if that is better for you. Like I said, it is difficult to pin a date/time down, though, because of his schedule.I did want to mention that you can also expect to be getting a comment from Jeremy’s lawyer as well. Let me know if you have any other questions.
Desiree
May 2nd, 2017 from Rachel Crosby to Desiree Strohmeyer
Hey, I just wanted to let you know I sent in that packet Jeremy requested. You can forward his lawyer’s comment to me, or tell his lawyer to get in touch with me directly — whichever you prefer.
Please let me know what Jeremy decides. If he does want to chat on the phone, I’d prefer to set it up with you if possible. If he decides to write, please let me know so I can keep an eye out for it. And if he does not wish to participate, I completely understand that too. But I wanted to reach out and give him the opportunity.
I hope you are well. Thanks so much.
Rachel
May 2nd, 2017 from Desiree Strohmeyer to Rachel Crosby
I’ll let him know it’s sent. He mentioned he hadn’t received anything as of yesterday, but I’ll have him look out for it. Can you let me know when it was posted? Just want to make sure the prison isn’t withholding. Thanks!
May 2nd, 2017 from Rachel Crosby to Desiree Strohmeyer
I sent it in Thursday I believe. So it may have been posted either Thursday or Friday. I meant to send it sooner but it was a busy week of breaking news. Hopefully they are not withholding it….thank you!
Rachel
May 4th, 2017 from Desiree Strohmeyer to Rachel Crosby
Hey Rachel,
Got a chance to talk to Jeremy this evening for a few minutes. Like I mentioned before, the prison has had a lot of lockdowns lately, so communication has been sparse. He did have a few questions.
Why do you think this story is worth revisiting? Was this your idea or your editors? What are you trying to accomplish here? You mentioned not having the material to accomplish what you have in mind for the story. Also, what are your thoughts on the hurt this rehashing may have on the victim’s family?
Hopefully I’ll talk to him again tomorrow. That’s all for now. Thanks.
May 5th, 2017 from Rachel Crosby to Desiree Strohmeyer
I do have enough material to accomplish what I had in mind, which is a 20-years-later reflection on a case that affected both the Las Vegas Valley (emotionally) and the casino industry. It is common to do major anniversary stories; I just completed one (at the end of April) on the 25th anniversary of the Historic Westside riots.
I am of course concerned about the victim’s family, but I have since been in touch with them and believe I can tell the story in a sensitive, rather than sensationalized, way. I was hoping some of the clips I sent Jeremy, as requested, showed that.
I do not need Jeremy’s interview or input for the story. But I reached out beginning several weeks ago in an attempt to give him every opportunity to include himself if he saw fit. He does not have to talk about the case, but since the story does involve him, I was respectfully letting him know it was happening and asking if he’d like to participate.
The story is slated to run May 21, so if he would like to talk, it would need to be next week or early in the following week (unless he would rather send a letter). Please let me know if he’d like to know anything else.
I hope you are well, Desiree. I know you never signed up for being the messenger, but thank you very much for all the help.
Best,
Rachel
May 6th, 2017 from Desiree Strohmeyer to Rachel Crosby
Had a chance to speak with Jeremy and go over your most recent email. You’ll be receiving a letter from him this week. We both felt a letter would be best because of the precarious phone situation and in the interest of not wasting anyone’s time. Let me know if you have anything additional that you’d like me to relay to him.
Desiree
May 6th, 2017 from Rachel Crosby to Desiree Strohmeyer
Thank you again. I’ll be on the lookout for it, and I’ll let you know when I receive it. I wish the phone situation wasn’t so frustrating – for this, and for you both.
When he does send, please have him make sure the address says “Rachel Crosby – EDITORIAL, Las Vegas Review-Journal.”
The editorial part is most important because our mailroom isn’t in the same building as the newsroom. Just in case, the return address is 1111 W. Bonanza Rd.
Please let me know if you or Jeremy have any questions or want to touch base. You can reach me here.
Best,
Rachel
May 12th, 2017 from Desiree Strohmeyer to Rachel Crosby
Just letting you know that you should be receiving the letter tomorrow. There was a delay with getting someone to sign off on the send out of the envelope at the prison, but it is on its way.
May 12th, 2017 from Rachel Crosby to Desiree Strohmeyer
Thank you. I’ve been on the lookout for it, but hadn’t received it yet. Was going to check in with you today. I’m sure it’ll be here by Monday.
Best,
Rachel
May 15th, 2017 from Rachel Crosby to Desiree Strohmeyer
Hey there Desiree,
I haven’t received the letter yet. Just wanted to make sure everything was OK on the prison’s end. Hopefully there’s no issues….maybe the mail is just taking awhile.
Rachel
May 15th, 2017 from Desiree Strohmeyer to Rachel Crosby
You should have received today. He sent me a letter at the same time and I got it this morning. Did your mail already run today? I can’t imagine they would hold up your letter and allow mine through as they were mailed on the same day.
May 15th, 2017 from Rachel Crosby to Desiree Strohmeyer
They passed out all the mail into our mailboxes this morning. So maybe it was delivered, but it hasn’t been disseminated yet. I called the mail room earlier but the manager was on lunch…..I’ll call again soon.
Thank you! That makes me feel better. Glad there weren’t any issues.
May 15th, 2017 from Desiree Strohmeyer to Rachel Crosby
Let me know if you don`t get it. Hopefully it is on its way to your desk.
May 16th, 2017 from Rachel Crosby to Desiree Strohmeyer
Still haven’t received it…not in the mail room. Just letting you know. Not sure what the hold up is.
May 16th, 2017 from Desiree Strohmeyer to Rachel Crosby
Very odd. I’m not sure. I do have a copy of it and I can type it out if that would work for you. Not the best case scenario but an option.
May 16th, 2017 from Rachel Crosby to Desiree Strohmeyer
Would you mind sending a photo of it? So you don’t have to type it out.
It may come tomorrow, but that would be very helpful.
May 16th, 2017 from Desiree Strohmeyer to Rachel Crosby
Let me know if you can read this once it’s been blown up <attached scan of Jeremy’s letter to Rachel>
May 16th, 2017 from Rachel Crosby to Desiree Strohmeyer
It’s a little difficult to read, but I think I can make it out. If I don’t get the letter tomorrow, I may ask that you type it…or that we briefly meet in person, whichever is easier.
Thank you for being so helpful Desiree.
Rachel
May 16th, 2017 from Desiree Strohmeyer to Rachel Crosby
See attached. <Typed out letter from Jeremy to Rachel>
May 16th, 2017 from Rachel Crosby to Desiree Strohmeyer
Oh jeez. I’m sorry. Thank you for taking the time to do that. I’ll be sure to write him back when things slow down over here.
Best,
Rachel
May 16th, 2017 from Desiree Strohmeyer to Rachel Crosby
hopefully that helps!
May 16th, 2017 from Rachel Crosby to Desiree Strohmeyer
It does, very much so. Thanks again.
May 17th, 2017 from Rachel Crosby to Desiree Strohmeyer
I got it in the mail today. Thank you again. Also, quick question…were you two married in 2010? or 2009? I want to make sure I’m doing the math correctly.
May 17th, 2017 from Desiree Strohmeyer to Rachel Crosby
We married in 2009.
Glad the letter got there. I will let Jeremy know. We were concerned the prison had blocked it.
May 17th, 2017 from Rachel Crosby to Desiree Strohmeyer
Me too. I liked his letter, by the way. Would like to write him back some day soon.
That being said, I want you both to know the story goes over the case in detail. I can’t write the story without going over the details of the case.
I included the most relevant pieces of what Jeremy sent me. So his current voice is absolutely in there. But his voice is not the only one included.
I talked to some people who did not believe Jeremy’s most recent words…at all. I am kindly letting you both know so you are both prepared for that. I hope you and him understand.
Please let me know if you have any questions.
Rachel
That concludes the e-mail correspondence between Crosby and my wife. See below images for Crosby’s letter to me, followed by my typed out letter to her, in response.
5/8/2017
Hi Rachel,
I hope this letter finds you in the best of health and spirits. Thank you for writing me and sending some of your clips. I`m not sure we will have time to carry on a full conversation about the things you want to talk about, given your rapidly approaching deadline and our not being able to talk on the phone due to fees. However, I will carry on this conversation with you as long as you’d like. You can’t get to know someone in just one letter or one clip. Thank you, too, for taking the time to give me a bit of your history. It sounds like you are quite accomplished for having graduated so recently. Your writing reflects your obvious talent, and thus the reason for your rapid professional ascent.
I`m sorry to hear that the impetus for your move back to Vegas was your father’s death in 2015. I am sorry for your loss, Rachel. Seeing as how you were raised here and your family still lives here, I`m sure it’s a source of solace for all of you to be together. It must have been tough moving here from Chicago, starting all over again, especially under such circumstances. Are you glad to be back in Vegas, or would you prefer to be in Chicago or Florida?
I`m not too familiar with how newspapers are divided, in terms of workloads and organizational structure. Is “breaking news” synonymous with crime reporting? Is crime reporting your preferred focus, or just what you’re doing until you can pursue something else? Does being exposed to such tragedy on a daily basis take a toll on you? I can’t imagine it’s easy. In my almost twenty years in prison, I’ve been exposed to and subjected to many horrors, and such exposure is not without its costs. Trying to help others, though, somewhat minimizes those deleterious effects. As does trying to find the silver lining in the trials and tribulations of one’s own life.
You said that much of what was written in the papers twenty years ago, in relation to my case, was factual but dry. I would say the media coverage at the time was not a factual account of the case, but rather a blind recitation of the prosecution’s case that sought to sensationalize a tragedy. It was a daily polemic with the intent of turning all against one. Writers using clever words to set off the masses. I was a kid at the time, scared to death, absolutely horrified by what had happened. The media portrayed me as a monster, demonized me, when I was in fact a messed up kid full of self-loathing, a suicidal and selfish child bent on self-destruction without any consideration for the possibility of anyone else getting hurt during my quest for self-immolation.
Honestly, Rachel, I don`t think you can enter this conversation with no preconceived notions about me if you read the articles written about me from 1997-2000. If you read just those, didn`t talk to me at all, and took everything in those articles as a balanced and unbiased presentation, you would think I was one of the worst human beings in the world; you would think I was a callous, unfeeling, emotionless, psychopath. And if you thought that, you would be completely wrong.
Regardless of the lack of impartiality and fairness in the original coverage and proceedings, the reality is that I have spent the past twenty years being punished. You said you don`t know what it’s like to be in prison for 20 years, or to spend most of your adult life in prison. To be in prison for 20 years is to be in a living hell for two decades, and interminable suffering. The fact of the matter is that I have spent the whole of my adult life in prison, and over half of my total life in prison. When this happened in 1997, I was eighteen years old and still in high school. I was no more of an adult than my seventeen-year-old peers. I was actually less of an adult than them, as I had almost no impulse-control; I was mentally, emotionally, and psychologically immature; and I gave almost no thought to the consequences of my actions. You recently got done with college, right? When you were an 18-year-old in your first year of college (or your senior year of high school), would you say you were a fully formed adult in complete control of yourself? Or would you say you made a lot of questionable choices and did things you would have done differently–or would not have done at all–as an adult today? Would you say that you entered the world fully matured the day you turned 18, or that you actually grew up and became a true adult during those four years in college? I came to prison a kid and became an adult in here.
Everyone does things in their youth that they reflect on later in life and regret. People also do things–especially when they’re younger–that are contrary to who they are as human beings. Those rash decisions and actions of youth have lasting effects on both ourselves and those around us, though those effects aren’t so completely irreversible, devastating, and tragic as the death of an innocent child. Three kids went into that bathroom stall twenty years ago: two lost their lives and one walked away completely unscathed. While Dave Cash couldn`t have cared less about Sherrice Iverson, my heart was broken by what happened and still is. I’ve paid with my life for what happened that night. But no matter how many years I’ve spent in prison, no matter how many years I spend in prison, no matter how much I suffer, nothing can bring Sherrice back. If I could trade places with Sherrice, I would. I spent years crying out into the universe to let me trade places with her, to let me change what happened. If I could change it, I would. I wish I could give my life–or do something, anything–to give Sherrice back to her family unharmed and unscathed. But you can’t go back, no matter how badly you wish you could.
I literally went years without smiling after this happened, suffering a daily torment, both internally and externally. Though I was demonized by the media, my contrition at the time was genuine, and still is. Now my soul has been scoured by the tribulations of time. After I had spent years in solitary confinement in supermax Ely State Prison–years of introspection, self-flagellation, and sadness–I was almost murdered in 2004. After my broken shoulder, fractured arm, and shotgun-blast wounds to my face and head healed, I had the epiphany that sitting in a small cell by myself with a shattered soul, doing nothing but hating myself, was a senseless and selfish form of self-pity. It was at that point that I committed–truly committed–to making the world a better place, of doing everything I could to improve myself and the world around me. I owed–and owe–that to Sherrice, her family, and society. I owe it to Sherrice to honor her memory with actions that make the world a better place and improve life for whoever I can improve it for.
I have lots of ideas, plans, dreams, and hopes for making the world a better place: I have my heart set entirely on making the world a better place. In everyday life I try to focus on our similarities as human beings, not our differences. I have an unalloyed idealism, a belief that no matter what mistakes we make, no matter what harm we have caused in the world, everyone is capable of change, everyone is capable of doing good, being the agent of positive change in the world. I try to put a smile on my face each day to show the guys around me that no matter how egregious your actions in the past, and no matter how much time you have, you can still pursue the positive. You can still have hope. You can still accomplish good things in the world.
I’ve seen a lot of youngsters come into prison over the years, and I try to be a positive influence on them, try to get them to be less impulsive, to think about their actions. Prison is an angry, hateful, paranoid place most of the time, where everyone is your enemy. I try to defuse that blind malevolence in the hopes of making life more bearable for those around me, as well as in the hopes of evincing the goodness inside each of these guys so they’ll go back into the world with hopeful and helpful hearts instead of hearts filled with anger and bitterness. If you’re given a second chance at life, a chance to atone for the harm you’ve caused others, take it and don`t squander it.
When I was imprisoned at Lovelock Correction Center, I advocated for my fellow prisoners and for a more change-based prison system. My efforts were met with an obstinate aversion to change. My pursuit of greater educational opportunities, and programs for making prisoners better people and citizens, resulted in my being the target of a conspiracy by some guards and administrators there. Some guards got another inmate to assault me, and then one guard falsified her report of the attack to get me thrown in solitary confinement for years. Then the Inspector General helped cover it up. If you want all the details, you can look at case number PI14-0905 in Pershing County, case number 3:14-CV-00661-RCJ-WGC in the U.S. District Court and 9th Circuit case number 15-16147. I am currently pursuing a full audit of the Office of the Inspector General here in Nevada because it is a secret police arm of the NDOC that publicly states a commitment to the truth and justice while actively protecting and covering up for the corrupt NDOC employees and their illegal actions. I`m enclosing some documents related to that. Note the NDOC “Complaint Guide”(the sections I’ve highlighted) and the official NDOC response to my official complaint against three of the conspirators (page three of Grievance number 2006-29-61740) where I’ve highlighted it. The contradiction between what they espouse publicly and what they do privately behind prison walls is downright Orwellian. If you search the Nevada Revised Statutes(as I’ve done), you will find there are no laws creating or governing the IG–only laws giving the IG and its employees police powers with no oversight.
You said the NDOC wouldn’t let you come see me. That is part of a commitment to secrecy and complete lack of transparency by the NDOC, which was previously reported on by the Review-Journal. They blatantly violate Nevada’s open records laws and criminal records laws for the purpose of protecting corrupt guards and administrators from any accountability. The third document I’ve enclosed details that. I believe transparency is absolutely necessary to the effective and efficient functioning of the criminal justice system (and the government as a whole), so that’s something I`m currently pursuing in the hope of improving the system here in Nevada to reduce crime and recidivism for all Nevadans. If that’s a story you would be interested in, I`ll provide whatever information about it you want. If not, can you refer it to one of your investigative journalist colleagues? Each year countless ex-guards and ex-administrators(as well as spouses and relatives of current guards and administrators)of the NDOC have salaries paid by Nevadans for those ex- and current employees to work as Inspector General employees who cover up corruption in the NDOC while publicly espousing a commitment to truth and justice.
As for my marriage, to say it’s a “happy marriage” is a misrepresentation: maintaining a marriage under these conditions is beyond difficult. I love my wife with all my heart, and I give my all to making her happy, to making her life better. She gave me a chance, took the time to get to know me and let me be my true self: caring, nurturing, and focused on the positive in life. Love is the most powerful force in the world and can heal the deepest wounds. We provide each other solace in what can be a harsh world. Though we may share moments of mirth and levity, this situation is a heartbreaking one that is emotionally devastating most days. She constantly inspires me to be a better man.
I hope this helps you, Rachel. I don`t know if it’s possible or not, but if it is, can you ask Sherrice’s family if I can send them a letter through you? I want to ask for their forgiveness, and I want them to know I would give anything to trade places with Sherrice. I just want them to know I am sorry, more sorry than words can ever say. I wish nothing but peace and good lives for them wherein their lives are not defined by this horrible tragedy as mine has been. Forgiveness, that is the question. I just want them to know that the man I am today is not the boy I was twenty years ago. I have changed, I have suffered, and I pursue positive change in the world every day. Nothing I can say or do will make up for the loss of Sherrice in this world, but I have to try.
Thank you for your time, Rachel. I hope that I will hear back from you, that we can continue this conversation so that you can know the boy I was twenty years ago and the man I am today. However, my idealism and pursuit of the positive do not blind me to reality. I know this may be nothing more than a one-off assignment for you, so if I don`t ever hear from you again, I wish you all the best in your life and career, and I hope that you will use your position in the press as a force for good and pursuing the positive for both yourself and the world around you.
Sincerely,
Jeremy Strohmeyer
a life without parole 
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