Nobody's Women: The Crimes and Victims of Anthony Sowell, the Cleveland Serial Killer by Steve Miller Page A
Authors: Steve Miller
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probation.”
It was August 2008.
Lori was battling demons that got louder and louder. She was confused by the different Sowell, the one who loved her, then appeared with horrible cuts and was in her face, angry at her with shaking rage.
She was fighting the relentless tug of intoxication. She missed her mom. She loved her kids.
It was no wonder the court sent her for mental-health counseling after her hearing. She had been diagnosed with depression in 1998 after her father’s death, then received outpatient mental-health care in 2002, then was hospitalized for mental disorders that same year. She said she heard voices that told her to hurt herself.
Now Lori was found to have a depressive disorder and given a prescription for Paxil. She took it for a while, but “it made me jittery,” she said.
She went back to Imperial with Sowell for a few nights. The court had given her a list of phone numbers to call if she felt suicidal at any point, and Sowell kept the list for her. At one point, she did call, with Sowell overseeing it.
“They asked her did you feel like you’re going to kill yourself or hurt someone,” Sowell said. When she said yes, she hung up rather than wait for a response. The emergency hotline called back immediately, and Sowell held them off.
“No, she’s just pissed off; she’s not serious about hurting herself,” he explained. Lori left in the morning, and the hotline called back. The worker wanted to know if Lori had gone back into a place where she could get some help. Sowell had no answer.
“I don’t know,” he said. “She’s not here.”
In fact, she was leaving him for good, she again claimed.
She had heard that despite his protestations of love for her, Sowell was messing around with other girls.
“When she got out of jail, she didn’t wanna go back at all with him; she didn’t like Tone anymore,” says Latundra Billups, one of Lori’s close friends who had spent hours getting high with the couple over the past year.
This part of the end of the relationship was a drawn-out event with plenty of acrimony and name-calling and accusations. And the accusations were rough.
“One day they had this big argument, I was over there, and she was calling him a rapist,” Latundra says. “The next day they were back together.”
But shortly after that, Lori moved out for good, leaving some of her clothes behind.
It was a Friday in August 2008 when she left for good. The on-again, off-again relationship had simply fallen apart over the past year. Sowell’s behavior—the furtiveness and his increasing agitation—had taken its emotional toll. It was a big deal for Sowell, who would later say the break brought out feelings of anger that he couldn’t control.
“I cried the whole weekend” after she left, Sowell said.
Lori left the neighborhood and refused to answer anyone’s calls for three days. On the third day, Sowell went by Latundra’s apartment with three garbage bags. He said they were Lori’s clothes and asked that she give them to Lori when she next saw her.
“A couple days later, Lori came over to pick up the bags,” Billups says. “She told me that her clothes were in there. And they were cut into little pieces.”
Segerna Sowell, who had been staying with her mother for months, got a kidney transplant in August. She would never return to Imperial to stay. She left her first floor in its typically immaculate condition. She had decorated it in a beige and white color scheme. The large sofa and matching love seat were beige, and the room featured a round, light brown rug; beautiful wooden-framed mirrors; tchotchkes sitting on built-in shelves; and on one wall, a painting of Thomas Sowell, her late husband.
The kitchen, too, displayed Segerna’s simple tastes, with a small, round glass-top table in the middle and a wood-paneled cabinet, a white electric stove, and a brown Frigidaire.
Scattered throughout the dwelling were framed photos of family members,
It was August 2008.
Lori was battling demons that got louder and louder. She was confused by the different Sowell, the one who loved her, then appeared with horrible cuts and was in her face, angry at her with shaking rage.
She was fighting the relentless tug of intoxication. She missed her mom. She loved her kids.
It was no wonder the court sent her for mental-health counseling after her hearing. She had been diagnosed with depression in 1998 after her father’s death, then received outpatient mental-health care in 2002, then was hospitalized for mental disorders that same year. She said she heard voices that told her to hurt herself.
Now Lori was found to have a depressive disorder and given a prescription for Paxil. She took it for a while, but “it made me jittery,” she said.
She went back to Imperial with Sowell for a few nights. The court had given her a list of phone numbers to call if she felt suicidal at any point, and Sowell kept the list for her. At one point, she did call, with Sowell overseeing it.
“They asked her did you feel like you’re going to kill yourself or hurt someone,” Sowell said. When she said yes, she hung up rather than wait for a response. The emergency hotline called back immediately, and Sowell held them off.
“No, she’s just pissed off; she’s not serious about hurting herself,” he explained. Lori left in the morning, and the hotline called back. The worker wanted to know if Lori had gone back into a place where she could get some help. Sowell had no answer.
“I don’t know,” he said. “She’s not here.”
In fact, she was leaving him for good, she again claimed.
She had heard that despite his protestations of love for her, Sowell was messing around with other girls.
“When she got out of jail, she didn’t wanna go back at all with him; she didn’t like Tone anymore,” says Latundra Billups, one of Lori’s close friends who had spent hours getting high with the couple over the past year.
This part of the end of the relationship was a drawn-out event with plenty of acrimony and name-calling and accusations. And the accusations were rough.
“One day they had this big argument, I was over there, and she was calling him a rapist,” Latundra says. “The next day they were back together.”
But shortly after that, Lori moved out for good, leaving some of her clothes behind.
It was a Friday in August 2008 when she left for good. The on-again, off-again relationship had simply fallen apart over the past year. Sowell’s behavior—the furtiveness and his increasing agitation—had taken its emotional toll. It was a big deal for Sowell, who would later say the break brought out feelings of anger that he couldn’t control.
“I cried the whole weekend” after she left, Sowell said.
Lori left the neighborhood and refused to answer anyone’s calls for three days. On the third day, Sowell went by Latundra’s apartment with three garbage bags. He said they were Lori’s clothes and asked that she give them to Lori when she next saw her.
“A couple days later, Lori came over to pick up the bags,” Billups says. “She told me that her clothes were in there. And they were cut into little pieces.”
Segerna Sowell, who had been staying with her mother for months, got a kidney transplant in August. She would never return to Imperial to stay. She left her first floor in its typically immaculate condition. She had decorated it in a beige and white color scheme. The large sofa and matching love seat were beige, and the room featured a round, light brown rug; beautiful wooden-framed mirrors; tchotchkes sitting on built-in shelves; and on one wall, a painting of Thomas Sowell, her late husband.
The kitchen, too, displayed Segerna’s simple tastes, with a small, round glass-top table in the middle and a wood-paneled cabinet, a white electric stove, and a brown Frigidaire.
Scattered throughout the dwelling were framed photos of family members,
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