A note to listeners before we begin. Today's story includes scenes of violence against
the LGBTQ plus community and sexual assault, which may be triggering to some audience
members. In addition, there are homophobic slurs. These are for historical accuracy
and do not reflect mine, the cast or the crew's opinions. Listener discretion
is advised. Now, I know I can't be the only one here who
fantasized about a dream date. Right back in college when I was single,
as the last pringle, I used to envision a romantic evening with a strong,
muscular, likely masculine man who drove a pickup truck. I was in
rural Ohio at the time. Okay, I had to be at least a
little realistic when it came to what he drove. Plus a truck is crucial
to this fantasy. Moving on, we'd drive out into the woods for the
night, staring up at the stars, telling each other how much we loved
one another. As the campfire crackled. Nick my fantasy boyfriend's name was always
Nick, would then pull up a blanket and I'd fall asleep in his muscular
arms, without any wild life there to eat me in my sleep or bite
the shit out of my legs, like those pesky mosquitos always seemed to do.
It would be paradise. I think I was really into this idea because
my grandmother once told me that she and Paul had done that once and it
sounded really sweet. Reality, I would have hated it. Also, Let's
be real, this version of Nick would have never come close to being as
wonderful as my real husband is. Love you, poopoo. This dream date,
though, isn't too far off from what a man named Jesse found to
be his ideal date with a man named Gordon. Picture it. Jesse and
Gordon were in that beautiful point of a young romance where you feel love for
the first time. Gordon, being a twenty eight year old college student finally
free of the control of his religious Mormon parents, lays in an airstream trailer
with Jesse. He had likely never cuddled another man before. For Jesse,
it was certainly an exciting new thing. He snuggled closer to Gordon, running
his hand through the guy's fluffy brown hair and smiling as Gordon in turn kissed
his forehead. This is a first for me, you know. It's blaying
here with you. Gordon. It makes me never want to leave my house
again. Same, sweetie. Just look at all the stars, lands and
nuns of them. I wish we could be up there, away from all
of this, away from all the stairs and hatred and gay cancer. AIDS
call it AIDS. Don't give them power over it all right, But Jesse,
you don't have to worry about those people, or AIDS or anything else.
I won't let anything hurt you as long as I'm here. You're safe,
Okay, honey. Now look up at those stars and just soak in
their peace. Welcome to the original Deadtime Stories, a podcast where I Skyler
Faston now Jones go beyond the crime to investigate human psychology and history. Maybe
we don't make the same mistakes of our ancestors. If you're a fan of
the show and you'll want to support us, check out Patreon dot com slash
og Deadtime. We'll begin our next chapter after these brief messages, and now
on with the show. Imagine the student center on Southern Utah University's campus.
Back in November of nineteen eighty eight. This was Southern Utah State College and
Gordon ray Church was here to study theater tech born in September fourteenth, nineteen
sixty. Gordon was a late bloomer when it came to attending college, but
this could be due to the fact that he grew up in an extremely religious
Latter Day Saint household. Gordon's friends say his family was mostly supportive of his
studies, even if they weren't all too friendly with the friends he made while
doing said studies. These types of friends weren't raging alcoholics, or drug dealers,
or any type of people that my family would have been worried about me
befriending. Gordon's friends were people who supported his lifestyle choices, asked, my
mother would call it. You know, people who are allies of the LGBTQ
plus community, people like Kathy Long. Hey, Gordon got you a coffee,
thanks Dall, and in return, I'll give you one of my mall
bros. I'm glad you know I can't start my day without his sig and
a coffee. What can I say? I know my girls, well,
so enough chit chat, Let's discuss this final dinner party. Yes, so
the guys were thinking that we could meet up at their place, have a
drink or whatever, and then go to the restaurant. I think they're going
to make reservations. I don't know. Have to check that. Then we'll
celebrate and be grudgedly go home for Thanksgiving break. Sounds like a plan,
a crude class. I'll see you tonight though, okay, Yes, and
don't be late, Kathy. You know I'm never late. To save money
on housing, Gordon lived with his grandmother. His family loved this arrangement because
it helped their son keep frugal while also ensuring that someone was present to take
care of the elderly woman. Well, Grandma, I'm all packed. I'll
see you at Mass Thanksgiving dinner though, okay, And if a snowstorm blows
in, I'll run back and shovel you out so we can all be together.
Thank you, sweetheart, you're such a good boy. Thanks Grandma.
I gotta make a quick call and then i'll be out of your way so
all those handsome young men can come over. Oh, Grandma, chuckled,
asked. Grandson winked and grabbed the phone. Hello, Hey, Kathy,
it's me. I need to get some six from the seven to eleven.
It's on the way, but I might be a few minutes late. JOI
was hanging, so I won't I promise. Hey, Gordon, are you
here for your nightly diet coke? Not to night Bertie. Just a pack
of Marlboro's please. You got it, Hey, buddy, If you're not
gonna buy anything, you gotta leave. A younger guy in his early twenties
with an atrocious mullet lazily peered over at the cashier from his post at the
beer cooler, just leaving punk weird anyways, a buck fifteen, Gordon,
Thanks, see you next time, asked Gordon, inhaled those lovely chemicals.
Mullet boy locked eyes. Gott a light for my buddy. Yeah, um,
let's see here. Thanks, I'm Lance. That's my man, Michael.
Hi. So it's a nice night. So we was thinking about driving
through town. Maybe head up to Pussy Hollow, see where things go.
Gordon couldn't help but notice the mischievous smile on mullet boy slash Lance's face as
he reached down to hike up his jeans high enough to reveal a moose knuckle.
You can come if you want. I have to meet some friends.
But but psy Hollow so much funner with three yeah, and with you and
us we'd have three, all right, I'm game, come on. Later,
testimony states that Gordon willingly led Michael and Lance into his white Ford Thunderbird,
though I'm not sure if I believe that the three guys drove down the
main stretch of road, all five minutes of it. Yes, some of
Gordon's friends say. At one point, Lance rolled on his window. Hey,
hey, here's a good one. Whoa look it? God girl,
come out, so doat of the screw off next time? Honey, that's
Lance rolled the window back up. Gordon nervously pulled a strand of his longer
hair behind his ear. She was pretty. Huh yeah, man, what
did you think sexy? I guess so guess so come on, she's one
of the hottest girls in this shit town. I honestly wouldn't know. I'm
gay. Lance gave Michael a knowing glance as he leaned forward and robbed Gordon's
shoulder. We know that, Champ. That's why we asked you up to
Pussy Hollow. Now, why don't we blow out of town. He can
be there for sunsets. Yeah, the three of us could have a real
good time. Gordon nodded and willingly drove on ahead. Now. The stories
make it out to seem like he had no fear of Michael or Lance.
But again, I'm not so sure about that though. I am an omniscient
narrator, so I know that these two dudes were fresh out of jail on
parole. Had Gordon known that, he may not have been so keen to
drive out of town and into the mountains. Oh shit, I'll leave my
cigarette back in town. Michael felt up his jacket pockets and shook his head.
You go on up, but we'll meet you in a few seconds.
Okay, what cigarettes? You've been using mine all night? I know I
wanted to tell you the plan. What plan? Sh keep it down.
We're gonna rob that stupid queer. That's gonna be some real good fun.
No, now, come on before he gets nervous. Sunset's pretty. Michael
and Lance took a seat, and I would like to imagine that the three
enjoyed a spectacular view. Michael periodically fished into his pocket, checking that the
knife was still there. Finally, he looked over at Lance and nodded,
well, kid, let's get going. Oh sure. As they were part
way back to Gordon's car, Michael unsheathed his knife and jabbed it into Gordon's
neck to serve as a warning. All right, fruitcake, how much money
you got in your pocket? Son of a bitch? Probably expecting something shady
like this, Gordon pushed the larger man off and sprinted. What he couldn't
account for was how quick Lance and his horrendous mullet were. The blonde shoved
Gordon to the ground, which cracked his jaw handbroke his elbow. Michael was
on top of Gordon in a flash and cut an X into the front of
his throat. Not the best idea, Now I'm pissed off. What did
you think Lance? Should I make him feel like the little bitch he's Without
waiting for an answer, Michael ripped Gordon's pants down to his ankle before unzipping
his own. Please, my shoulder, my leg, They at least she's
a rubber stray down queer. He shoved Gordon over the hood of the car
before ripping open the condom and forcing himself inside of Gordon's rectum. You like
that, don't ja? I bet you do. You looking queer, and
you're not gonna tell a soul about this, because if you do lancing me
an, fuck your mom before killing her, and you're dead. Michael paused
for a second, turning to Lance with a smile. You want any Lance
raised an eyebrow, slightly concerned by the question, then shook his head no
and turned to get back into the car. I don't want no part of
this. Let me just pause a second. This is the story, according
to Lance, but I shall see throughout this chapter the tale varies depends on
who you ask. Let's rewind. Okay, Gordon's over the hood of the
car, pants down and likely gushing blood from his neck, and Michael's cracking
his knuckles before un zipping his fly. Now, I'm pissed off. Will
you think? Should I make you feel like the little bitch you are?
Yeah, it's your game. Do it to me, but I want you
to use a condom. Gordon fished the plastic package from his jacket and handed
it back to Michael, who slipped it on. Never done anna before,
might feel nice, According to Michael. He thrust inside of Gordon once,
but then no, I'll get off on getting down on guys. Sorry,
man, too weird. Michael shoved Gordon onto the hood again as he pushed
out and snapped off the condom, discarding it into nature for some poor woodland
creature to choke on later. Since I wasn't there, I can't say which.
If either of these versions is real, I'm inclined to side with police
on it. There is no way Gordon would have asked to have sex with
Michael, let alone want to. His throat had a nasty gash and his
arm was broken. For God's sake, I don't think sex was anywhere close
to the forefront of his mind. My guesses Michael wanted to belittle Gordon,
so he forced his pants down and raped him. Can we please go back
to town now? I promise I won't breathe a word of this to anyone.
I just need to get to a hospital. He'll no see what this
faggot has in his trunk. Lots of junk. But what are we rabbit?
All Lance hauled over tire chains and jumper cables, asked. Michael's eyes
lit up. Gordon was too broken to move. He may have tried to
fight back, but his small frame wasn't enough to handle Michael, who tied
him up. With Lance's help, they dumped Gordon into his own car.
Trump now don't get no smart ideas like punching out the tail lights to wave
down for help. And ain't gonna do nothing besides piss me off. More?
What are we gonna do to him? Now? Dump him in Dog
Valley? If anyone finds him, they'll think he was drunk and drove off
the road. I don't know about this. If you're sending the car over
the edge, what if he don't die and crawls back to get help,
crawls back, dipshit, He'll bleed out before that can happen. Besides,
I got a few more games I want to play with this little fagin were
games, Jesus Christ, I can't explain every thing to you. Now shut
up and do what I say. God, you're tripping. Put on the
radio and chill. Dog Valley was roughly eighty miles away, and poor Gordon
had to endure that whole hour and a half road trip trapped in the trunk
of his own vehicle. He was beaten, sexually abused, and shivering.
Can you imagine being in his shoes? And on top of it all,
you know that these two goons are going to kill you when they get wherever
they're planning to drag you. You can't call for help, You're too weak
to do anything, and after all of the events of the last hour,
you're probably too shaking up to even think straight. And the worst part,
like me, and was claustrophobic. His mother later said that he avoided elevators,
opting for stairs so he didn't feel trapped. My heart breaks for dear
Gordon as I envisioned that terrible drive. Lance into Michael, dragged Gordon's still
conscious body from the trunk and let him fall into the dirt. Hold him
here while I get those jumper cables. Lance laughed nastily as he leaned into
Gordon's face. Hear that, princess, we got more games to play.
Shut up, Lance, Now turn him over and put these on his balls.
Just do it. Lance shrugged and took the cables from Michael, gently
pinching the ends open and shut, as if he was checking to make sure
they still worked. Then, with a slight giggle of triumph, he attached
the ends to Gordon's testicles while Michael slowly walked back to the car. Make
sure you ain't touching him. Lance kicked the side of Gordon's skull a few
times, for good measure before Michael started the engine. The electrical currents quickly
flowed from the battery and into Gordon, causing his body to twitch and discomfort
as the current hit Our purps enjoyed watching Gordon's pain before Michael finally decided to
switch off the car. Did that wake you up, bitch? It was
as if a wild animal had been unleashed. Michael pulled to jack from the
trunk of the car and ran over to Gordon, holding the man's head in
place with his foot and then swinging the jack as though it were a croquet
mallet and Gordon's head was the ball. He bashed towards beautiful face, over
and over, grunting like before as the blood splattered around him. Is he
dead? Of course he's dead, idiot? You think you'd survive that?
I just wanted to make sure. Hey, what are you doing with that
tire? Iron man? I thought he might enjoy getting fucked again on his
way to Hell. Unapologetically shoved the tool into Gordon's exposed rectum, pushing it
harder and harder until he couldn't anymore. The damage was so severe that it
pierced Gordon's liver. Now It may have been Michael who saw it him my
sweet Gordon, or it could have been Lance, as I had just depicted.
It just depends on which of these ship bags you ask, But there
is no doubt that they did this then, as if Gordon was nothing more
than trash. They tugged his lifeless body up a small hill, tossed him
into a ditch, and covered him with tree branches. Hold up, he's
got a nice watch. Wouldn't mind having me one of those? I'll take
the wallet. Maybe his mommy and daddy were rich, all right, All
right, let's go. Come on, it's freezing up here. Hey lady,
this ain't going to be more than my five bucks, right, but
two whole outfits probably not? Oh, you got some stuff on your pants.
Michael and Lance followed the concerned thrift store cashier's pointed finger down to their
bloody clothes. Oh that yeah, was out hunting rabbits last night. Did
pretty well, made a mess of ourselves. Yeah, that's why we won
all these ugly clothes. It's all it's all that fits. But we need
to get this blood off. And thank you, chatty. This chick don't
want to hear our life stories. Shore. Don't seven bucks, here's a
ten. Keep the change we can change in here, right, sure,
Just don't leave those bloody clothes in there. I don't get paid enough to
clean up your mess. Don't worry about that. Wearing a new set of
duds, the guys sped back home, dumping their bloody outfits in a drainage
ditch. As they went back in their own neighborhood. Michael drop Gordon's car
in of all places, his own brother's apartments parking lot, and then headed
for his parents' house. All right, just be cool. My pants like
it when I visit. So Mikey, good morning, son. This is
quite a surprise. And who's this my roommate. Dad will remember? Hi?
You, sir? Well, don't just stand there, Come on inside
your mom and I just scrambled up some eggs, and we got plenty more
we can make. Honey, honey, Mikey's here. We'll scramble up at
least three eggs each for these boys. And Michael sit down right here and
tell me how you've been good, Dad, Just good. I just wanted
to grab something out of my room. Then Lance and I gotta go back
home early, ship to work. Oh, you're such a good kid.
Ain't he a good kid? With her back turned to them, Michael's mother
nodded as she cracked another egg into the frying pans. What are we doing?
I'm putting that queer as watched out here. Then we're gonna eat the
eggs and split. I want to go fuck Paula before that dude's ass stinks
up my dick. Oh and if you tell Paula I fucked a guy,
I swear I'll do everything we did to him to you. I get it.
I ain't gonna say a word. Good Now, let's get back up
there. I'm starving. After enjoying a nice breakfast with the fam, Lance
dropped Michael off at their apartment so he could have sex with his girlfriend,
and then headed back to where the whole crime started. Seven eleven. The
wheels in Lance's mind were turning as his hand fumbled over Gordon's wallet. He
checked over his shoulder and waited for a young couple to enter the convenience store
before dumping Gordon's empty wallet into a trash care. He sighed, believed to
be rid of the evidence, and then lifted the pay phone from its receiver.
He slid a few coins into the slot, dialed a number he knew.
My heart had waited impatiently as it rang. This is John, John,
it's Lance. Did you break another parole violation? Jesus, kid,
you're one of the worst I've been stuck with. You know that? Hi,
Yanna, shut up, John, I got something real important to tell
you, and you gotta listen. Okay, you gotta come get me.
Man, I just saw some guy kill another guy. Our story continues in
a moment. Now back to the story. So we was sorry, m
so we was right up here. Lance stood in the brightly lit yet freezing
cold Dog Valley with his parole officer John Grath, Attorney Scott Burns, and
Sheriff Robert Decker. Our mulletted murderer casually walked to the men over to the
makeshift grave, where Sheriff Decker knelt down. He brushed the twigs and branches
aside to reveal the battered body of Gordon. His eyes squinted shut. Oh
crap, I do know this kid. How's that? Oh damn? Said
Scott as he took in the gruesome sight for the first time. His family's
really involved in our church. Poor Nancy, I'll have to call the deputy
and to have him tell her he there's a few doors down from them.
No, son, you're gonna have to walk us through this thing from start
to finish. Sure. Lance almost grinned at the thought of recreating the night
they started a camera and he began walking them through the crime from start to
finish. So we got here naked, and says you're gonna kill me,
are you? And Michael says, no, you are not going to kill
you. Sorry, man, but mind if I smoke. I've been aching
for a cigarette since we left town. Robert and Scott exchanged a quick look
without Lance registering, don't see why not? So Michael killed Gordon? Yep?
And you was just in the car the whole time, that's right.
Did Michael say why he killed Gordon because he was a queer? Lance,
why don't you take a seat in the cruiser for a minute while Scott and
me have a talk. Well, what do you think? I think?
The kid's a damn liar. He's been grinning the whole time, proud of
himself. If I witnessed a murder less than a day ago, I'd be
shaking and nauseous. And hardly able to think, what about you? He's
not telling us the whole story. There's a chunk of hair wrapped around his
shoelace. And if I was a betting man, I put down money that
it was Gordon's. And you notice that streak of red on them pearly white
shoes. Sure did. I was leaning towards believing a story until I noticed
that while we were interrogating him at the station. He's not just an innocent
bystander. M We're gonna arrest this boy so he can't run away, whether
he's guilty or not, and we'll give this Michael Archiletta a nice wake up
call to what the fuck? Who the hell are you? Michael Archiletta,
you are under arrest for the murder of Gordon Church. Put your hands up
where I can see them now. Michael and Lance were both in police custody
just a day or two after the murder. Oh and Gordon's car and watch
were recovered relatively quickly too, because Michael did such a great job of hiding
them. Yeah, they knew Homeboy was guilty as sin. Michael and Lance
would each have separate trials for Gordon's murder, with Michael's happening first in December
of nineteen eighty nine. To be honest, I don't feel the need to
go into detail about this. It was clear from the start that he was
guilty. There was some talk of childhood trauma, but I won't glorify this
goof's backstory. After forty witnesses and about three hundred pieces of evidence, the
jury deliberated for eight hours before announcing at five ten pm on December fifteenth that
Michael Archiletta was guilty of capital homicide and torture slaying. Five days later,
he was sentenced to death. A few months later, in March of nineteen
ninety, it was time to see what fate would befall Lance would like his
partner in crime. Lance was found guilty, but when it came time for
his sentencing, the defense team had a few tricks up their sleeves. During
the penalty phase of the trial, Edward Wood, Lance's adopted father, took
the stand with watery red eyes. I'm sorry, excuse me. My boy
is a good kid. He might have been a little hyperactive, and he
dropped out of high school, but by golly, did he work hard.
He did the best he could in school. The spot his speech and learning
problems. Lance's flower was being easily influenced by other kids, and he hung
out with the wrong crowd in high school, and that's why he did things
like steel motorcycle. My boy can make something of his life if he gets
rehabilitation. It was Michael that made him do something real awful that nut.
But if he's kept away from those kinds of people, I know it'll be
a good boy again. When everybody had said their peace and Lance's crocodile tears
were dried up, the jury deliberated for three hours before realizing they could not
unanimously decide on death. As we've learned from this show, if you can't
decide unanimously, the sentence defaults to life in prison, which is where Lance
would resides to this day. After both these trials, though we still don't
know the entire story, Michael blamed Lance at his trial, and Lance blamed
Michael at his My guess is both are at fault, but will never take
the blame. Obviously, though the jury chose to leave Lance's version of events
over Michaels, some people over the years speculated that this was because Michael quote
unquote fit the mold of a killer because he was Hispanic, and, despite
his best efforts to hide them, had visible prison tattoos on his neck.
Lance, on the other hand, was a good white Mormon boy. He
couldn't possibly have murdered someone bad enough to deserve death. Right. Did race
play a part in their sentencing? I can't say for sure, but I
truly would not be surprised. As the years turned into decades, Michael Archiletta
has remained alive and to this day, in twenty twenty two, continues the
fight to appeal his death sentence. He is cited incompetent lawyers and intellectual disability,
Lance testifying from prison that he was the one to blame, truly anything
to avoid the firing squad. It doesn't seem like the judges will ever take
his claims to heart, though, and he will either finally be executed or
die of natural causes behind bars. Lance, on the other hand, seems
to be enjoying prison life. She miss a maca, please, mister Wood,
my name is Renee Ckenzie. You may call me missus McKenzie or Renee,
but not cute little names like Miss America. Ah. Yes, Renee
McKenzie. This blonde came into Lance's life in twenty twelve as a legal assistant
for a case against Sandra de Martin. But I'll let these two explain that.
Missus McKenzie, Oh, you're still married to that old goat. My
husband is not old, mister Wood, he's a senator. Senators are old.
We are not here to discuss my marriage. We're here to talk more
about your case against Sandra de Martin. There's a trial scheduled for December and
ninety to know more of the details. Well, sure, sugar, what
do you want to know? It is my understanding that you had a special
relationship with miss d Martin. This began in two thousand and two. Yes,
ah, you're right so far, baby. Don You touched her and
kissed her, But she says you never consummated this relationship. She wishes we
would have. But I wouldn't have been able to fuck a prison guard even
if I wanted to. Oh, yes, I forgot she worked for the
prison. Mister. Would you have a habit of flirting with prison staff.
I'm a lonely boy, miss McKenzie. I long to be loved again,
But Sandy fuck that up. Royally when she failed to mention she had a
husband. She was going home too. I'm a good Mormon boy. I
don't commit adultery, and you told that to missus De Martine. Of course
I did, but instead of admitting it, she'd reach down my pants and
start to rub him, telling me how much she wanted me. It was
just to distract me from the truth. So when I reported her for sexual
harassment, they transferred me out of that prison and pretended like her raping me
was okay. You think she raped you? She did. She jerked my
cock without consent. Consent something he didn't have when sodomizing Gordon in nineteen eighty
eight. Interesting and might not say. The district court said this relationship was
consensual. Lucky for you, our Ninth Circuit Court of Appeals has decided the
power dynamics between prisoners and guards make it difficult to discern consent from coercion,
which brings me here to fight the lower courts to convince them that it was
not consensual sex. We are you paying attention, mister Wood? Oh,
It's hard to pay attention when the most beautiful woman in the world sitting across
from me at all I can picture is her being married to a stuffy old
senator. Renee was at a loss for words, but something about this murderer
made her heart flutter. She returned to visit Lance over and over and at
the prison, thinking that it was strictly business, stopped monitoring the visits,
and then on February five, twenty thirteen, a letter arrived, legal mail.
Hey look all this envelope says is legal mail. I wonder it was
returned to sender Lance. Would hey see what Lance had to say? Sweepy,
my cock stands at attention every night thinking about you touch it with your
soft hands and warm lips. Jesus Christ. Did the bosses know little miss
Renee's tempting a prisoner? They did not, and Renee was soon barred from
seeing her lover boy until an investigation could be opened. Long story even longer,
the two had fallen in love. Renee divorced her husband in November twenty
thirteen, then changed her last name to Wood an anticipation of a marriage to
a man she knew had committed a heinous murder and was stuck for life in
prison. What a crazy I'm not crazy. I was just lonely in a
twenty year marriage. I can't help who I fall in love with words missus.
Renee Wood has said in interviews solid She married her prince Charming in early
twenty fifteen, and in March of that same year, filed a civil rights
action against Idaho prison officials because those folks had allegedly harassed her and Lance after
they tried to uncover corruption in the prison. On August thirteenth, twenty twenty,
their case was dismissed. I guess they're still happily married, even though
Lance forgot her name for a moment during the documentary Dog Valley. But it's
fine. They're in love. Lance has admitted that he was never fully truthful
about what occurred that cold November night with anybody except Renee, who probably still
didn't get the full story. But whatever. Enjoy ted Bundy, sweetie.
I consider Lance and Michael to be kind of like Tanya Harding, like our
figure skater. The boys stories have changed so much over the years that I
don't even think they know the real version anymore. But enough about that.
Two slabs. Jesse Dulce, who you might remember dated Gordon, was also
interviewed for the Dog Valley documentary and expressed a desire to have the victim's story
told instead of the killers, so on an uplifting note. Because of Gordon's
story and others like it, Utah passed SP one O three in April of
twenty nineteen. This bill officially recognized hate crime laws in the state, if
I understand it correctly. Before this, the laws were really watery, so
nothing could be considered a hate crime. It seems that Gordon's story coming to
light in twenty sixteen really helped push this legislation forward. Like Jesse, I
too want Gordon's story to be heard, since over the years it kind of
vanished. I think that this was in part because his family was so heavily
involved with the Mormon Church, and they may have been ashamed that their son
was gay and died the way he did. Can't speak for them, of
course, and so few quotes exist for David and Nancy Church, making it
hard for me to get a feel for who they really are. But we
do know that there was a man who kept a special place in his heart
for Gordon. So for the moment, let's go back to that airstream trailer.
But as it's Sweetie, just look at all those stars, millions,
millions of them. I wish we could live in this moment forever, just
you and me, me too. But Jesse, look at me. You
don't have to worry about those main people or anything else. Okay. I
won't let anything hurt you as long as I'm here. You're safe, Okay,
Any and Gordon, uh huh, It's gonna be okay. And just
look up at those stars and drink in their peace. It's going to be
okay. Was written and narrated by me Skyler Faston Now Jones and executive produced
by Daniel Faston Now Jones. Voice talent was provided by Jeremy Staple, Jeanette
Zosh, Jordan Catcher, Crystal Mosley, Kayla Esmond, Katrina, Marie Junez,
and Daniel Faston Now Jones. Our theme music was written and performed by
Tracy Zailes, with editing and sound design by Jordan Catcher. Thank you for
joining us for another chapter of the original Deadtime Stories. If you enjoyed our
show, please leave us a five star review wherever you're listening. It helps
others find us and make sure that we don't do bad things to ourselves,
like growing out a mullet to be our ultimate fan. Check out patreon dot
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free, or a behind the scenes look at select stories. Our subscribers will
get an exclusive chat with me where they can learn more about Michael Archiletta's childhood
and what Lance's ex girlfriend had to say about his new wife. So check
it out today. The link to Patreon, as well as our social media
accounts are in the episode description. Thank you for supporting independent artists. Our
Deadtime Stories Murderous road trip across America continues next week to Arizona, where I
will continue pushing my gay agenda onto you. Until then, stay safe out
there. I don't want you to become the next chapter's topic. On the
original Deadtime Stories, This was a little bit fast in our production.