Tess and I got caught up in the daily deluge of news surrounding the Alex Murdaugh murder trial wherein he was accused of shooting his wife and his son on the family property in Hampton, SC. Despite the horrific nature of the crimes we were often reminded of stunning natural beauty in the Low Country of South Carolina. After some discussion about it I mapped out a potential tour of the areas points of interest and dubbed it the Murdaugh Murder Mystery Tour. We found a nice dog friendly hotel and a few days later, 3/15/23, off we went.
Who, what, when, where, how? All of these queries have been asked and answered with reasonable certainty in the Murdaugh Murders. Today we went to some of the sites noted in the extensive news coverage to which we have been glued these past few days. 5 deaths surrounding one family in 6 years. Who, Maggie and Paul Murdaugh June 7, 2021, the loving wife and youngest son. The housekeeper, Gloria Satterfield February 26, 2018, who loved and raised Paul for all of his young life. Mallory Beach February 23, 2019 an innocent teenager who had joined her friends for an island oyster roast, killed in a DUI boat crash leaving her family, friends and boyfriend Anthony Cook, heart broken and devastated and Stephen Smith July 8, 2015 another teen who had barely come out to be himself when he was snuffed out in an act of violence left on a lonely road as if killed by a hit and run.
Other details can be filled in with objective facts. The timeline of Paul and Maggie from the evidence of life to their tragic death was detailed by the SLED agent who studied and documented the literal steps as recorded on their iPhones. Their father and husband, Alex Murdaugh, perhaps the most trusted person in their knowledge and perception, had violated that trust in the most horrific and unimaginable act of betrayal that night of June seventh at or around nine pm while they were going about their business caring for the dogs in their charge. A Snapchat video being recorded by his son Paul puts him at the scene of the crime.
We stopped at the dirt drive, the entrance to the property of seventeen hundred acres. We drove past slowly and came to a stop where red police ribbons hung in the stillness draped on a wire crossing the drive. A sign, Private Property, cautioned us not to enter. But from the road we could see the low slung wooden building. We could see “the kennels” as they had been referred to so many times in the days, hours and the minutes of the trial. The scene where Alex had paced back and forth describing to the police how he had come upon and discovered the bodies. How he cried in a falsetto about his pain and anguish in discovering them in such disarray. And how he just knew that somehow someone had gotten to them in some sort of act of vigilante justice for the tragic death of Mallory in his son Paul’s boat crash. I’ll tell you one thing, he said, someone thought about this long and hard before they did this.
And that part of his story was the truth.
Alex Murdaugh had thought long and hard before the commission of the much pre meditated, planned and acted upon double homicide. But why?
The prosecution made the case that as his financial world collapsed around his Attorney Murdaugh III the great grandson of the legal dynasty he had inherited chose to portray himself as a victim of personal tragedy than face the avalanche of corruption and deceit that was about to consume him.
Why?
Perhaps the only query whose answer is elusively non quantitative. It is uniquely human and personal. We were so suddenly chilled when we saw the building from the road. The kennels… the scene of this family tragedy. No, stopping or getting out to take pictures, to explore a little deeper, a little closer. It was suddenly all a little too much, too real, too tragic.
Why?
There is no reason that is reasonable.
In the hours and days surrounding this incident his ailing father, the very reason had asked his wife Maggie to meet with him at Moselle, passed away. His mother, he had visited that night to use in his alibi, now also, has passed away. Now at the hunting estate of the Murdaugh’s there is nothing but silence. A deathly silence that shrouds a family history and forever hallows and haunts a family legacy that had once been so proud.
Why?
Only one person really knows why and he is serving two life sentences to have time to think about it. It wasn’t me, he says to the judge on the day of his sentencing. It wasn’t me who did this. Instead of a rebuttal the knowing judge responded; perhaps it wasn’t you. Maybe it was the monster you became as you ingested all of those pills you were taking but I am sure that your wife Maggie and your son Paul will be visiting with you every night as you lay yourself down to sleep. On this they did agree but still the question remains…
Why?
For what shall it profit a man, if he shall gain the whole world, and lose his own soul?
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