TJ
09-02-2003, 08:54 PM
http://seattlepi.nwsource.com/local/135433_morrow18.html
Stacy Morrow, a prodigy with animals, was just 5 when she started collecting them.
She raised goats, chickens, turkeys, rabbits, ducks, a ferret and even pigeons with broken wings -- sometimes with many of them corralled in the same 20-foot-by-20-foot pen in her back yard in Milton.
Morrow
"Not only did she have them all getting along, she could talk to them -- and sometimes they'd talk back," said her father, Rich Morrow, laughing. "We'd call her 'Dr. Stoolittle.' "
Morrow doesn't laugh or smile as much these days when thinking of Stacy. But the Seattle man thinks just as often of his daughter, who was crushed to death in a brutal June 4, 2001, accident outside Pullman in Eastern Washington.
And every day, he thinks of Fred Russell, a Washington State University student who police say was drunk when he slammed his Chevy Blazer into the old Cadillac that Morrow, also a WSU student, was riding in. She and two others died instantly. She was 21.
Four months later, Russell skipped bail while awaiting trial. He's been missing, and hunted, ever since.
No one wants him found more than Morrow.
"Finding Fred is not my whole life, but it's a huge part of it," said Morrow. "It's about justice getting done."
Morrow, 53, is the pricing manager for Horizon Lines of Alaska, a container shipping company in Renton. Divorced, with his 21-year- old son attending the University of Washington, Morrow lives alone in a West Seattle condominium.
The mild-mannered man with a middle-aged paunch and a head of prematurely white hair has made a mission of capturing Russell, as well as educating about the perils of drunken driving.
He speaks several times a month to groups of convicted drunken drivers seeking to get their records expunged. He serves as spokesman for the families of the crash victims. And recently, he announced the formation of a non-profit foundation called The Gecko Fund to raise reward money for information leading to Russell's capture.
The accident occurred on state Route 270 between the college towns of Pullman and Moscow, Idaho. It was 10:45 p.m., and Stacy and six of her friends were returning from seeing the movie "Shrek."
For at least part of the day, Russell, now 24, reportedly had been drinking heavily. A police report said that after buying a half-gallon of vodka and some mixers, he stopped at the My Tavern Bar in Pullman to have some beers with a friend.
Returning to Moscow, Russell allegedly was attempting to pass in a no-passing zone when the accident occurred. Russell's Blazer sideswiped a Geo Metro, then smashed into a white 1972 Cadillac DeVille.
The front end of the Cadillac caved in. Passengers Morrow and her boyfriend, Ryan Sorensen, as well as the driver, Brandon Clements, died at the scene. The four other car occupants were treated for injuries, many of them serious. Russell was treated for minor wounds at a nearby hospital and was released soon after.
Karen Ducey / P-I
Rich Morrow has made it his mission to find the fugitive charged with vehicular homicide in his daughter's death.
Prosecutors charged Russell -- who has had other scrapes with the law including an earlier DUI arrest as well as a charge of statutory rape -- with three counts of vehicular homicide. His blood-alcohol level was 0.12 percent, well above the legal limit of 0.08 percent, two hours after the accident, prosecutors said.
Russell knew the fate he could face in the criminal justice system. He was a criminal justice major -- studying in a department headed by his father, professor Gregory Russell, a former county prosecutor.
After attending one of several pre-trial court hearings, Russell vanished. At the time, he was out on $5,000 bail.
The story of the crash and Russell's subsequent flight has been on "America's Most Wanted" and "Unsolved Mysteries," with each airing resulting in leads about his possible whereabouts.
Several local and federal agencies have handled parts of the investigation over the last two years. For almost a year, the U.S. Marshals Service in Spokane has been leading the hunt.
Theories about Russell's whereabouts abound. Tips about his location and possible sightings have been made in spots ranging from Yakima to Fairbanks, Alaska, to Carson City, Nev. But none has panned out.
"I assure you, the case is very active," said Michael Kline, U.S. marshal for Eastern Washington. "But I don't know that we've received any good tips at this time in terms of his location."
The conventional wisdom is that Russell has been receiving steady financial and other assistance; that he wouldn't have been able to avoid capture this long without it. He has red hair and blue eyes, is 6 feet 2 inches tall and sports an Irish Cross tattoo on his upper left arm.
Kline said Russell's relatives and friends are being watched.
Russell's father moved from Eastern Washington to Arkansas about a year ago. In previous interviews, the senior Russell said rumors about the case may have affected his position at WSU.
Greg Russell, who in the past has cooperated in the investigation, could not be reached for comment.
Mark Moorer, Fred Russell's Moscow-based attorney, said he thinks his client bolted because of "a lack of maturity, a lack of understanding."
Moorer said Russell, who faces up to 12 years in prison if convicted, has a solid defense if he returns: His blood-alcohol level was legal at the time of the crash, he said. Further, Moorer said, there was something blocking Russell's lane, requiring him to move into the other lane at the time of the crash.
At a recent DUI victims panel held at Kenmore Community Church, Morrow held up the black plastic box with Stacy's remains. This is one of several local meetings held in the area monthly for drunken drivers, under court order, to listen to stories of damaged and sometimes wrecked lives.
"Stacy's body was so badly mangled, we had to have her cremated," Morrow said. "I don't say this to elicit sympathy but to show you just how brutal, instant and final it can be."
Morrow also showed an enlarged photo of Stacy and him, taken at a flower bulb farm in Sumner. The nearly perfect father-daughter portrait elicited a few sniffles from the audience.
In the photo, Stacy is 9, wearing a light-blue sweat shirt and an impish grin. Her father has his arm around her. He is wearing a tweed coat and appears trim, his hair dusty brown. He is smiling confidently.
"Of course you'd expect me to say I miss my daughter," Morrow said. "But this world lost a terrific person."
HOW TO HELP
Contributions to The Gecko Fund can be made by deposit at any Bank of America branch to "The Gecko Fund -- 76966415" or can be mailed to The Gecko Fund, c/o R. Morrow, 2421 S.W. Trenton Street, #311, Seattle, WA 98106. Checks can be made out to "The Gecko Fund -- 76966415."
Stacy Morrow, a prodigy with animals, was just 5 when she started collecting them.
She raised goats, chickens, turkeys, rabbits, ducks, a ferret and even pigeons with broken wings -- sometimes with many of them corralled in the same 20-foot-by-20-foot pen in her back yard in Milton.
Morrow
"Not only did she have them all getting along, she could talk to them -- and sometimes they'd talk back," said her father, Rich Morrow, laughing. "We'd call her 'Dr. Stoolittle.' "
Morrow doesn't laugh or smile as much these days when thinking of Stacy. But the Seattle man thinks just as often of his daughter, who was crushed to death in a brutal June 4, 2001, accident outside Pullman in Eastern Washington.
And every day, he thinks of Fred Russell, a Washington State University student who police say was drunk when he slammed his Chevy Blazer into the old Cadillac that Morrow, also a WSU student, was riding in. She and two others died instantly. She was 21.
Four months later, Russell skipped bail while awaiting trial. He's been missing, and hunted, ever since.
No one wants him found more than Morrow.
"Finding Fred is not my whole life, but it's a huge part of it," said Morrow. "It's about justice getting done."
Morrow, 53, is the pricing manager for Horizon Lines of Alaska, a container shipping company in Renton. Divorced, with his 21-year- old son attending the University of Washington, Morrow lives alone in a West Seattle condominium.
The mild-mannered man with a middle-aged paunch and a head of prematurely white hair has made a mission of capturing Russell, as well as educating about the perils of drunken driving.
He speaks several times a month to groups of convicted drunken drivers seeking to get their records expunged. He serves as spokesman for the families of the crash victims. And recently, he announced the formation of a non-profit foundation called The Gecko Fund to raise reward money for information leading to Russell's capture.
The accident occurred on state Route 270 between the college towns of Pullman and Moscow, Idaho. It was 10:45 p.m., and Stacy and six of her friends were returning from seeing the movie "Shrek."
For at least part of the day, Russell, now 24, reportedly had been drinking heavily. A police report said that after buying a half-gallon of vodka and some mixers, he stopped at the My Tavern Bar in Pullman to have some beers with a friend.
Returning to Moscow, Russell allegedly was attempting to pass in a no-passing zone when the accident occurred. Russell's Blazer sideswiped a Geo Metro, then smashed into a white 1972 Cadillac DeVille.
The front end of the Cadillac caved in. Passengers Morrow and her boyfriend, Ryan Sorensen, as well as the driver, Brandon Clements, died at the scene. The four other car occupants were treated for injuries, many of them serious. Russell was treated for minor wounds at a nearby hospital and was released soon after.
Karen Ducey / P-I
Rich Morrow has made it his mission to find the fugitive charged with vehicular homicide in his daughter's death.
Prosecutors charged Russell -- who has had other scrapes with the law including an earlier DUI arrest as well as a charge of statutory rape -- with three counts of vehicular homicide. His blood-alcohol level was 0.12 percent, well above the legal limit of 0.08 percent, two hours after the accident, prosecutors said.
Russell knew the fate he could face in the criminal justice system. He was a criminal justice major -- studying in a department headed by his father, professor Gregory Russell, a former county prosecutor.
After attending one of several pre-trial court hearings, Russell vanished. At the time, he was out on $5,000 bail.
The story of the crash and Russell's subsequent flight has been on "America's Most Wanted" and "Unsolved Mysteries," with each airing resulting in leads about his possible whereabouts.
Several local and federal agencies have handled parts of the investigation over the last two years. For almost a year, the U.S. Marshals Service in Spokane has been leading the hunt.
Theories about Russell's whereabouts abound. Tips about his location and possible sightings have been made in spots ranging from Yakima to Fairbanks, Alaska, to Carson City, Nev. But none has panned out.
"I assure you, the case is very active," said Michael Kline, U.S. marshal for Eastern Washington. "But I don't know that we've received any good tips at this time in terms of his location."
The conventional wisdom is that Russell has been receiving steady financial and other assistance; that he wouldn't have been able to avoid capture this long without it. He has red hair and blue eyes, is 6 feet 2 inches tall and sports an Irish Cross tattoo on his upper left arm.
Kline said Russell's relatives and friends are being watched.
Russell's father moved from Eastern Washington to Arkansas about a year ago. In previous interviews, the senior Russell said rumors about the case may have affected his position at WSU.
Greg Russell, who in the past has cooperated in the investigation, could not be reached for comment.
Mark Moorer, Fred Russell's Moscow-based attorney, said he thinks his client bolted because of "a lack of maturity, a lack of understanding."
Moorer said Russell, who faces up to 12 years in prison if convicted, has a solid defense if he returns: His blood-alcohol level was legal at the time of the crash, he said. Further, Moorer said, there was something blocking Russell's lane, requiring him to move into the other lane at the time of the crash.
At a recent DUI victims panel held at Kenmore Community Church, Morrow held up the black plastic box with Stacy's remains. This is one of several local meetings held in the area monthly for drunken drivers, under court order, to listen to stories of damaged and sometimes wrecked lives.
"Stacy's body was so badly mangled, we had to have her cremated," Morrow said. "I don't say this to elicit sympathy but to show you just how brutal, instant and final it can be."
Morrow also showed an enlarged photo of Stacy and him, taken at a flower bulb farm in Sumner. The nearly perfect father-daughter portrait elicited a few sniffles from the audience.
In the photo, Stacy is 9, wearing a light-blue sweat shirt and an impish grin. Her father has his arm around her. He is wearing a tweed coat and appears trim, his hair dusty brown. He is smiling confidently.
"Of course you'd expect me to say I miss my daughter," Morrow said. "But this world lost a terrific person."
HOW TO HELP
Contributions to The Gecko Fund can be made by deposit at any Bank of America branch to "The Gecko Fund -- 76966415" or can be mailed to The Gecko Fund, c/o R. Morrow, 2421 S.W. Trenton Street, #311, Seattle, WA 98106. Checks can be made out to "The Gecko Fund -- 76966415."