I'm Not Guilty: The Case of Ted Bundy (The Development of the Violent Mind) by Al Carlisle

Author:Al Carlisle [Carlisle, Al]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Genius Book Publishing
Published: 2014-06-07T00:00:00+00:00

Chapter Fourteen: Stanford University, Summer 1967

You went to Stanford University in the summer of 1967. Why? What happened there?

I enrolled in Chinese studies at Stanford because of the noted superiority of their program. For a short time, it was the high point of my entire life. The relationship between Marjorie and me was going very well at that point. The campus was beautiful, the instructors magnificent, and my confidence was very high. The environment was conducive for learning. I did well in my classes and I had friends that I played tennis with in the evenings or on weekends. The professors had exceptional knowledge and experience and I loved listening to them. My one regret was that Marjorie had remained back at the University of Washington in Seattle for the summer in order to complete some classes that she needed towards her college degree. I tried to talk her into coming back to California for the summer but she wouldn’t do it. I wasn’t exactly terrified of her but I was fearful that this wonderful thing I finally had wouldn’t last.

And problems began to occur?

Marjorie and I had been having a few squabbles over small things and we were becoming more distant from each other. Not only did I want to attend Stanford because of the superiority of their Chinese program, I wanted Marjorie and me to have the summer to develop our relationship. I was very insecure about losing her so I called her almost daily. This started to irritate her.

Everything began to deteriorate. Not all at once, mind you. Little things frightened me, such as a lack of enthusiasm in her voice when we talked. She got angry more often and for insignificant things such as when I locked my keys in my car. It bothered her when I forgot to pick something up at the store that she had wanted.

I didn’t like it when it was always me having to call her and not her calling me. It began to wear on me. I couldn’t focus on the instructors in class. I didn’t complete my homework. I had been playing tennis but I was too anxious about Marjorie to do well at it. I went to a guest lecture on Chinese protocol which was usually of great interest to me. However, I took only a half-page of notes, a pitiful account for a two-hour lecture. As soon as it was over I ran back to my apartment and called Marjorie, but she wasn’t there.

I walked around campus for a few hours and then I tried Marjorie again but she still wasn’t home. I began to panic. I wanted to drive up there and talk to her. I had to make sure that everything was all right.

I went to the campus cafeteria and ordered a Coke and a ham sandwich. When I sat down at one of the tables I noticed an attractive dark-haired girl sitting at another table talking to a rather homely looking guy. This girl kept her eyes on the boy as he talked; her affection towards him was apparent.

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