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

ashaveilbook.blogspot.com


Tuesday, May 26, 2015

The McClish House

Sorry I haven't posted for a few days.  Memorial Day Weekend was a bit hectic.

I thought I would describe the house where Michael McClish lived with his family during the time of the murder.

First off, it seems extremely unfair on many levels that he had such a nice house, much larger than the home Asha moved into.  His former house is located on a long, seemingly endless road that ends in a sort of cul-de-sac, with a trail leading out of it.  There used to be a Christmas tree farm just above a place I lived, long ago, that actually could be reached by this trail.  Now there is a "private property" sign located near the trailhead.

At any rate, there are a lot of oak trees on this road, and their leaves seem to stay forever on the ground; the street is littered with them.  At some point, I had the idea in my head that the McClish family lived in some sort of ramshackle place, but the house, in reality, is beautiful--a ranch-style house, painted lemon-beige, with what looks like an atrium or huge skylights at one end. The grounds are set up for professional landscaping, but there is almost nothing in the big planters. Everything is in shades of beige and light brown. There is a large hedge in the front and a few plants near the porch, but that's it.  The impression is one of dead earth, or suspended life, or no life: the energy seems dull somehow.  I would not want to live in such a place, even if I did not know its history.

And yet, how did McClish afford the rent on this house, which is by no means a shack and not small?  His wife was a stay-at-home mother and they had three kids.  He certainly wasn't making a mint as a store manager.  It makes me wonder if someone in his family was helping out, or if he got a deal on the rental.  They were in the process of losing their rental, though, when the murder happened (I have to research more of the history regarding that property, too: renters are often asked to leave if the property is going to be sold).

I sat in my car across the street, looking at McClish's house, and realized how little I wanted to see from this man's perspective, but did it anyways: this was the place he left on September 9, 2006 to see Asha at the store.  He came back to the house that night after the murder and immediately threw all his own clothes in the washer, even though the garage had piles of laundry to be done.  This was the house where he planned to get rid of his "problem" and not have to answer for his actions.

It's hard to look at places like this, especially anything to do with the killer, directly, but it's all part of the process of walking in the footsteps of the people connected to this story.