Oct. 5, 1989. It was a Thursday. It was the day that changed everything. And for parts of me, that day has been going on for 30 years.
Oct. 5, 1989 was the day that my father, my brother-in-law and I found my older brother’s murdered body stuffed into a closet in his south Anchorage home. Duane Samuels had been shot three times.
Autopsy reports advised us that there was “starring” on his skull surrounding the head shot, which means the last thing Duane ever felt was the barrel of a .357 magnum being put to his head.