“There are still a lot of threats that go unreported,” said Doreen Merrill, associate director of the Abused Women’s Advocacy Project.

Gunshots pierced the air in Lewiston five years ago today, proving that domestic violence doesn’t just happen in made-for-television movies and low-rent districts.

Sometimes it’s next door. Too often, ignored.

“We encourage people not to be afraid to call 911,” said Andy D’Eramo, the former Lewiston assistant police chief and now director of Lewiston-Auburn 911. “I’d rather have to apologize if it turns out to be nothing than do nothing. At least we’re trying to stop it.”

Cross tried everything she knew to end a volatile relationship.

It was precisely enough to get her killed.

She told friends of tension with Kenneth Emrick, her live-in boyfriend of 19 years. She left, arming herself with a protection-from-abuse order.

Emrick, meanwhile, wielded a .30-06 caliber rifle.

Along for support

When Cross returned home in early afternoon Tuesday, Aug. 10, 1999, she intended to claim her belongings and usher her three children – ages 16, 8 and 2 – to safety. Two friends were there for moral support. A police officer came along to keep the peace.

Peace never had a chance. With the officer still in the second-floor apartment, Emrick walked into a bedroom. He barricaded the door, pulled the rifle, pointed it through the window and shot Cross in the throat as she sat in the front passenger’s seat of her van.

The bullet passed through Cross and also struck one of her friends, 46-year-old Robert Pelchat, who survived.

Cross died at the scene. Emrick also died of a self-inflicted wound to the head. Each was 38 years old.

Three children, orphaned, were placed in the care of their paternal grandparents.

So what have we learned, five years later?

Subsequently, Lewiston cops underwent extensive domestic violence training.

The police now have a full-time domestic officer, Lee Jones, and they now send at least two officers to all domestic calls. Neither party at a scene is left unattended while a situation is being worked out.

“We have a better dialogue with the Police Department,” Merrill said. “Officer Jones does a lot of follow-up work with victims.”

Power and control’

D’Eramo, who retired from the force in 2002, said the department engaged in “a lot of introspection” after the killing.

“We became much more cognizant of domestic violence,” he said.

It continues, however. While roughly one-third of homicides in the U.S. are the result of domestic violence, Maine’s percentage typically hovers around half.

The reasons? Merrill laments that a restraining order remains “only a piece of paper.” D’Eramo says Maine had an undercurrent of domestic abuse throughout his police career.

Low incomes and substance abuse may contribute to the numbers, creating a culture of despondency in a state where there aren’t many random murders.

At the grassy junction of Leeds, Webster and Pine streets, a granite bench sits among a well-tended array of flowers and bushes known as the “Triangle of Hope.”

Inscribed there on the bench: “In memory of Carole Cross and all others who were lost to domestic violence in Lewiston.”

Cross wasn’t the last to die in Lewiston as a result of domestic violence.

Within a three-month span in early 2003, Cherie Ann Andrews was killed by a man described as a romantic interest, while Billie Jo Smith and Raymond Tripp Jr. died in an apparent murder-suicide.

But Cross’ death early that summer afternoon strengthened the community’s resolve, for what it’s worth.

“He wanted to kill her, and he did it in front of a police officer. People who kill people, that’s the way they are,” Merrill said.

“It’s all about power and control. It takes an entire community working together to make this end.”

Kalle Oakes is news columnist. He may be reached by e-mail at koakes@sunjournal.com.

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