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Hickman's death still a mystery
Sherry Russell, left, visited a castle in England with daughters Leah Hickman and Jessica Vickers in summer 2006. A year after the death of her daughter Leah, Russell says "My heart just can't accept it — that she is really, really gone."
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HUNTINGTON -- Christmastime always will be wrapped with a sense of loss for the families and friends of Leah Hickman.
The 21-year-old from Leon, W.Va., died one year ago today. It took place at the Marshall University student's off-campus apartment located at 403 8th Ave. Police found her body seven days later. The case remains unsolved.
Leah Hickman's death rattled a community, captured national attention and left lasting effects that forever altered many lives. It means emptiness for her parents. Her half sister, Jessica Vickers, felt more isolated and depressed. The victim's friends realized the shortness of life and pushed toward accomplishing their goals.
Some emotional wounds are beginning to heal, but those closest to Leah Hickman said no arrest means no closure.
"My heart just can't accept it -- that she is really, really gone," said her mother, Sherry Russell. "It's hard to believe that I have to live the rest of my life without her. I can't understand why anybody would want to hurt her."
Investigators for the Huntington Police Department say Leah Hickman was strangled as part of a targeted attack carried out by someone familiar with the layout of her 8th Avenue apartment. Police found her body hidden in a crawl space located underneath the apartment building. It was connected to a common laundry room.
The investigators say they have a working theory about her killer's identity, but lack evidence needed to prosecute. Some hopes lay with mitochondrial DNA testing in Phoenix.
Police Chief Skip Holbrook will not describe specific evidence, but the state-of-the-art lab generally examines hair, bones and teeth. Holbrook said the first tests were inconclusive. Investigators do not anticipate additional findings until early 2009.
"We've been focusing in a general direction from the very beginning, and that is where we remain today," he said.
Leah Hickman's death captivated many in the region. It also spurred criticism of the Police Department, but her families and friends stand behind the investigation. Vickers embodied many of their comments. She said she knows the detectives are emotionally involved in Leah's case and she feels confident they are doing everything they can.
"I have faith that whoever took her from us will one day be judged," she said. "I hope that it's here on earth, but if not I know they will stand before God one day and He is the ultimate judge."
Parents struggle to cope
Leah Hickman was the daughter of Sherry Russell and Mason County Assessor Ron Hickman. She was born Nov. 22, 1986. The parents parted ways about eight years later, but her love for both continued.
"Her only problem was she didn't have enough time to spend with them," said her longtime friend Caitlin Starkey.
Both parents still struggle to cope with the large void brought by her sudden death.
Russell wears a necklace with Leah's photo. She also wears a memory bracelet on her wrist. She remembered her daughter as selfless and full of love. Leah volunteered to do dishes upon visits home. She called her mother almost every day and every conversation included an "I love you, Mom."
"She always hugged me," Russell said. "If she had been gone for an hour and came back into the house, she hugged me. She would kiss me on the cheek and turn her cheek for me to kiss her."
Leah Hickman loved Christmas, and her family will notice the void every year. It is personified for Russell at the Christmas tree, which Leah helped decorate each year. Russell also misses her daughter offering advice about what to buy and acting secretive about the gifts she purchased.
Russell said those holiday traditions, kisses and hugs have been replaced with the toughest parts of the past year.
"Doing all of these things a mother shouldn't have to do, like picking out a headstone and going to the grave site and putting grass seed on it," she said.
Leah Hickman was her father's only child. He struggles to express his sorrow in words. Many times his unoccupied mind quickly fills with her wants and goals for life. Those plans included grandchildren for her father. It is just another thing her death leaves him without.
"It's just been very, very hard to deal with," he said. "I think about her each day and what a wonderful, sweet, special daughter she was."
Ron Hickman was first elected as Mason County Assessor in 1996. He ran unopposed in this year's election, but he calls the 2008 campaign the toughest of his political career. Leah frequently attended dinners and other functions. She had looked forward to using lessons from journalism school to bolster her father's campaign.
The national attention garnered by Leah Hickman's case surprised her mother. Russell said the national podium is usually reserved for big cases, and it was difficult to realize her small-town daughter was a missing, young female who reached that level.
Russell said the coast-to-coast attention produced overwhelming support. For the first few months that support arrived in the form of letters, cards, books, Bibles and other items. She estimates 72 Dress Barn stores participated in the giving. Her daughter worked part-time at the clothing chain's Barboursville location.
"It was awesome," she said.
The support was much needed. Russell would deal with the tragedy on two fronts -- the sudden loss and widespread speculation that Vickers was involved. Russell is mother to both women. They were half sisters and roommates.
Any such rumor remains unsubstantiated by police. Russell said the widespread speculation was torture and created much of the pain she endured over the past year. She described those people as cruel and attributed their beliefs to watching too much television.
"I know she didn't. I know she is not capable of it. I know the police are doing everything they can to gather the evidence they need to successfully convict the right person," she said. "When they do, these mean people will have to eat their words."
Death of sisterhood
Jessica Vickers said she never has been an outgoing person. She considers herself shy and isolated. The death of her half sister reinforced those character traits and pushed her toward depression.
Vickers said Leah Hickman's death was a "complete upheaval" to an otherwise normal life.
The two girls had been roommates since the fall 2006. Friends and family said Leah initially wanted her own place, but agreed to stay with Vickers to help her half sister with rent.
Vickers said it was an interesting time period, in which they grew closer. The two siblings had separate lives, but still found time for each other. Vickers remembered scary movies that cuddled them together, Sunday breakfasts at Bob Evans and late-night trips to Wal-Mart and Taco Bell.
Vickers described her half sister as loving, vivacious and completely full of life.
"It was hard to be around her without a smile on your face. If you didn't, she was the first to try to make it there," she said.
Vickers particularly remembered her half sister's giddiness and the way she would giggle. Vickers said Leah would burst into her room excited about the most trivial thing.
"Five seconds later, I would turn around and she was completely asleep on the bed -- passed out from exhaustion from having to tell this wonderful story," she said.
Vickers already had experienced the death of about 10 relatives. In those instances she grieved and eventually moved on, but coping with Leah's death only proved more difficult with time.
The grief eventually caused Vickers to shut down one day at work. It became too much and forced her to seek help. It was assistance she had hoped to avoid. She had planned on helping herself and staying strong to assist others in her family.
"I have definitely had moments where it has honestly just hit me like a ton of bricks, and I couldn't breathe just imagining what she had to have gone through," she said.
Vickers, who became front and center of the week-long search effort, quickly retreated. She didn't grant interviews and some criticized her lack of emotion. Some used that to fuel rumors about her possible involvement.
"The best way I deal with things is alone," she said. "I don't put a lot of emotion out there, and I know some people thought that was weird. They expected to see a show, I guess. They expected to see all of us just completely falling over each other and not being able to get out of bed. That's not how we are.
"It's nobody else's business when I cry or why I cry," Vickers added.
Vickers quickly learned about the unsubstantiated accusations. They were publicly posted on Internet message boards and bantered about around local water coolers.
Vickers said she wanted to run out and scream, but resisted the urge. She became more frustrated and secluded as the accusations made her feel paranoid at work and elsewhere.
"It's been a lot easier to stay in my apartment and not have to face people," she said. "I would look at a customer and think, 'What do they think about me? What do they think I'm capable of?'"
Starkey, Leah Hickman's best friend, defended Vickers this week. She said the duo did not have problems. She believes they got along well together and never fought. She called it a testament to their maturity.
"I get really, really serious when people blame Jessica," she said. "Not only does it not make any sense, but it also seems insensitive to a sister trying to grieve."
Vickers elects to cope with Leah's death by focusing on the fact her half sister will never return home, instead of imagining the horror she endured.
Death of friendships
Leah Hickman's death shattered Starkey's support and belief systems. It also altered the lives of other friends, such as Ashley Russell and Kimberly Schoonover.
Starkey was her best friend. The girls went to the same Christian school. They worked a summer job together at a locks and dam. They joined each other at Marshall University.
"We were always together," she said.
Starkey was convinced police would find her friend alive. She was devastated to hear otherwise.
The death shattered Starkey's support structure. Hickman was the person who Starkey called at the first sign of any emotion.
"Leah was basically my rock," she said.
Leah Hickman's death also pushed Starkey forward. She said it forced her to recognize the shortness of life and the need to accomplish her professional goals.
"It really makes you think, 'I may not be around tomorrow,'" she said. "I want to have all of those things she wasn't able to have. I want to do it for her."
Ashley Russell, who is no relation to Leah Hickman's mother, shared a similar story. She met her friend in Christian school and moved to San Francisco after her death.
Ashley Russell said Leah was an amazing person, one who had everything going for her. That passion and direction influenced Ashley Russell to push toward her dream of attaining an arts degree.
Leah Hickman's death also prompted Ashley Russell to be more cautious. She found herself looking for apartments with no fire escapes attached to windows and other precautions to ensure her safety from intruders.
"The fact it could happen to somebody as sweet as her -- it just doesn't seem right," she said. "Suddenly I found myself placed in a situation to where if it could happen in a small town to her, well it could happen to me here in the big city."
Ashley Russell and Kimberly Schoonover exemplify those friends who gather at MySpace.com. Both have moved to other areas. They do not know each other, but are joined in sadness over Leah. Her personal Web page is a place where grief lingers today as many share stories about their friend who passed on.
"It's a way to tell her what's going on," she said. "It's almost as if, in a way, she is still there. Just writing on there to tell her what is going on, it's almost like praying."
