Death Row Granny

(As heard in the Weird Darkness episode, “Unveiled Under Hypnosis: The Alien Secrets of Steve Kilburn” from July 30, 2024.)

Ronnie Burke, Velma Barfield’s son, once said: “You know, it’s the saddest thing, but it seems like everybody my mother ever gets close to dies.” How could the good Lord let something like this happen to a loyal Christian and church lady such as Velma Barfield?

It was one of those questions a lot of folks wanted to ask. Even as the full story was released and the new serial was being readied for broadcast, nobody could really work out how Velma Barfield had ended up on Death Row, strapping into Old Sparky like some nightmarish rocket ride.

A church-going grandmother who was so religious that not even Rev. Billy Graham could find a bad word to say about her. Not long after that, the first cries for her freedom erupted across much of the world.

Externally, she was the image of a perfect angel. But maybe that is how she killed six people and got away with it.

Thomas Burke, her first husband, was the first to die just for keeping his nose too close to Velma Barfield. Velma and Thomas were married young when she was only 17, and for the early years, they seemed like a match made in heaven.

The two had married out of desperation and because Velma was so anxious to leave home. Her father, who outwardly seemed nothing but adoring and good, would come creeping into her room at night.

Velma married Thomas only to have an escape route from her ordeal. And then, it was okay for a bit. They bore two children and then grew apart when Velma had a hysterectomy and became addicted to prescription pain pills. After some time, Thomas took to the bottle, and the two started fighting.

Following an altercation, Velma bolted with the kids and left Burke alone in the house. Then, while she was gone one day, a fire broke out and burned Burke alive before sunrise.

Her kids were heartbroken, and from all appearances, so was Velma. The tragic suicide of an English professor provided Velma with a template to fix things, and her life followed a pattern of calamity after disaster.

Although she lost her husband, Velma moved on and eventually found love again. But as far as everyone around her could tell, bad luck always seemed to come looking for her.

Barfield, the widower of another Pennsylvanian who had two children by his late spouse, would also die in an unexplained way.

As the couple bickered about Morrison’s prescription abuse and the word “divorce” was floated, Jennings suddenly fell ill—dying of a disease that led to a fatal heart attack less than a year after they wed.

Her parents were next. A brief relationship with another boyfriend ended in flames as well, his body being found after the house Velma was living in suddenly caught fire and burned to the ground not long afterward. Velma Barfield then moved back in with her parents. However, just hours later, both of them were dead.

First, her father got lung cancer—the only death she might not have been responsible for—and then a few weeks later, her mother fell ill.

It was a strange coincidence. A few years and one husband later, Velma buried her mother, who had been vomiting and complaining of a burning sensation inside. Oh, it was too good to be true, but no one would put two and two together for another couple of decades.

When Velma Barfield’s mom died, the bodies just piled up. For a time, she got a job working for Montgomery and Dollie Edwards as a cleaner before both of them were hospitalized sick within one year. Next, she landed a job with Record Lee, and only months later, her husband John Henry developed the same mysterious malady.

To her family, she remained simply an extraordinarily unfortunate woman. They believed her new boyfriend, Stuart Taylor, would prove an anchor for this turbulent period. Even he, though, would not come out the other side of Velma intact.

The fatal error Stuart made was on Feb. 3, 1978. He had recently discovered that Velma was writing checks in his name, and they were fighting. Stuart thought she was calling a truce one morning before church when she handed him a beer to go with the eggs.

But then he started feeling ill during the service. He had tried to make himself strong for as long as he could, but it felt now that the heat was creeping through his body. Later, Stuart got up, sensing guilt somewhere in the air, and headed to the truck for some rest. Before long, his sweet Velma was there beside him, soothing his furrowed head. “You do not have to pretend you are strong,” she said. She would drive him home.

Stuart writhed all night in queasy agony, and by morning he wailed at Velma to drive him to the ER. The doctor declared nothing was to be found and gave him a diagnosis of simple gastritis. He was instructed to take care of himself at home and assured he would be fine in the morning.

By morning, Stuart was numb on all points.

Members of Velma Barfield’s family turned out to support her at Stuart’s funeral because it just seemed impossible that such a thing could happen to this woman. This poor woman had endured nothing but heartache since she lost Thomas Burke.

Well, almost everyone. When Velma was sobbing her way through the service, a woman she thought to be long dead called 911, claiming they were sisters. She told them Velma was a “murderer” too—of her own mother as well as Stuart Taylor.

The police were not interested until Stuart was autopsied. But it was as the caller had claimed: there was arsenic from rat poison in his belly. They began investigating each and every one of the tragic deaths that had befallen those in Velma’s life, and in each case, they discovered trace elements belonging to the exact same rat poison brand.

It was not until Ms. Fitzgerald’s son, Ronnie Burke, questioned her that Velma feigned ignorance of the matter. She couldn’t lie to her son; out of desperation, she just sobbed in front of him. “It was an accident,” she said. “I only wanted to poison him…”

Velma Barfield confessed to four of the murders. Thomas Burke’s death was a freak accident, she insisted; Jennings Barfield just got sick. The police could prove nothing about Burke, but they had reason to suspect her. She was for sure lying about Jennings too, as he had also died from rat poisoning like the others.

She then ended up on death row. No woman had been on her way to the execution chamber in more than 15 years since the death penalty was reinstated. This made it a media circus.

There were thousands rallying for this woman’s life. By this time, her psychiatrist was trying to convince the judge that she had multiple personality disorder (claiming “Velma” would never have killed these people) and Velma herself, ironically considering how we first met her, attempted to appear as a reformed Christian. The judge wouldn’t budge.

On November 2, 1984, Velma Barfield was executed. She had a telephone conversation with Billy Graham earlier, hoping he could wield whatever power to spare her life. Instead, though, as they parted, Graham said to her: “Velma, in a way, I envy you because you are going on to heaven before me.”

A crowd had formed outside. Three hundred of them were gathered outside the prison walls to chant hymns and hold candles, praying for her. On the other side of them were ninety-eight more people who shouted, “Die, b***h! Die!”

She managed one last meal: a bag of Cheez Doodles and some Coca-Cola. She walked into the execution chamber with guards behind her.

She assured her family she was not alarmed. “When I enter that gas chamber,” Velma Barfield said, “it will be my ticket to heaven.”

According to reports from witnesses, she did not suffer. She simply lay back and let the vile poison course through her swollen veins like the countless bodies she had filled. An American woman executed for the first time in 22 years.

After the final dose, those who had gathered outside to keep vigil turned out their candles and broke into a lilting rendition of Velma Barfield’s favorite hymn. The others cheered.

(Source: Mark Oliver, AllThatsInteresting.com)