To read an excerpt from the book, please click on the following link:

ashaveilbook.blogspot.com


Thursday, October 09, 2014

Jail Talk

The files for McClish's murder trial came in and so I spent an afternoon in the tiny gray room where one can view such things.  Immediately in the front were pictures of Asha's wedding to her husband, Richard, two pictures, and then a beautiful one of them sitting on a couch.  He is laughing out loud and she looks like Kate Winslet with a pixie cut.  I cried on the way to the courthouse anyways, but had to contain myself in the viewing room after seeing those pictures.  No exhibits there, of course, but I am talking to the exhibit clerk tomorrow.  I have to steel myself for that one and will try to schedule viewing them, if I can, for next Thursday when I can go to therapy after.  I purposely did that today, and cried through my counseling appointment.  One of their wedding pictures is of the couple looking at each other with radiant smiles, so happy. They obviously had so much love for each other.  How could all that happiness just end?

I am increasingly disgusted with the hatred and predatory nature of the man who killed Asha.  It is interesting to plow through all the detective's statements.  One of them reported that McClish once said that if his wife had an affair, he would have to kill her.  Er...you know, there are much less extreme ways to handle things, McClish!  Actually, one of my exes said something similar to me, too.  There are  reports by detectives, under oath, that McClish pressured Asha to abort the baby (thus the flurry of phone calls between them up until the day she walked into a resource center for pregnant women, having decided to keep her baby no matter what).  Apparently he was enraged when she informed him she would keep Anina.  There were also reports from more than one person of how afraid she was of McClish--for very, very good reasons, other reasons, but those are going into my book.

The most sinister part of what I read today were the transcripts of jailhouse phone calls between McClish and his wife.  These made me sick, with the filthy language he used towards Asha, calling her all sorts of horrible names..at that point, her body had been found, too. I've used some pretty foul language myself, which I personally have regretted doing, but he obviously thought he was in the right.  I don't know why people in jail blather so much on the phones; everything is recorded.  He revealed himself in those recorded conversations to be even more sinister, unfeeling, and sociopathic than I thought before.  I believe he premeditated the entire killing, also.

I also feel that our local paper in the San Lorenzo Valley had the opportunity to do some real investigative reporting and instead printed ridiculous letters and a fluff piece on McClish's wife after their divorce.  As far as I know, there was not ONE article devoted to Asha herself, nothing devoted to telling our community about her life, and that disgusts me.  The market where she worked was the biggest advertiser for the paper, so it's no wonder the paper didn't take any risks. This whole story is permeated with money:  McClish killing Asha so he wouldn't have to pay child support, the Press-Banner not willing to stick their necks out for fear of losing revenue...you have to wonder if news stories in the general press are altered or obfuscated because of the latter type of fear.

You know, my former mother-in-law used to own the Valley Press and then continued to write for them after she sold it to someone else.  She was a tough reporter and did some real investigative work in the time she was there, never caring about ruffling anyone's feathers.  She would have stood up for Asha.  

The more I hear and read about Asha, the more I believe she was, at heart, a pure, beautiful, and courageous soul, and the annihilator that was, and is, Michael McClish saw all that light and wanted to destroy it...he obviously cared nothing for his wife, for the four (at least) women he had affairs with, and for Asha, the one who planted her feet and stood up to a monster.  I am overwhelmed by her courage.  I wish I had a tenth of it.