My name is Kris Anglin Barney and I have been a domestic violence advocate now for 21 years. In addition to my advocacy work, I have also become a resiliency speaker sharing my own story of domestic violence and the horrifying events that led up to the murder of my 3yr old daughter, Miranda.
As I share this horrifying story, I also like to share how I overcame this horrible tragedy and how I found happiness and joy again. I also share my story in hopes that it touches and encourages just one abuse victim to seek safety for her and her children.
My story begins in 1993 when I met and fell in love with a man who I thought was the man of my dreams. We had an enormous wedding with all of the pomp and circumstance you can imagine. My entire wedding attire was hand crafted, from the roses and pearls on my veil to the roses on my shoes. It was my dream wedding.
It was the event of the year…that turned sour and sinister within 6 months. My life turned into a real-life horror story. I was 23 at the time of my marriage. The abuse started as soon as the marriage certificate was signed. The man that I thought loved me like no other, turned into a monster.
In 1995, we became pregnant with a beautiful and very healthy baby girl, who we named Miranda Faith. She could not have been a more perfect and happy baby. And I instantly fell in love with her AND the role of motherhood. Fast forward to 1997.
By 1997, my marriage had deteriorated to the point that there was no salvaging it and I had to make the heartbreaking decision to leave my husband. My abuser. His name was Charles Salley, Jr and he was a Bossier City Firefighter/Paramedic.
Once I made the decision to file for divorce, most of my days were spent living in fear and frustration. I was ALWAYS in constant fear for my life and the life of our daughter. I was divorcing my husband for mental and emotional abuse, cheating, gas lighting, financial abuse and his blatant disrespect for our marriage our family. Everything that could be balled up in an unhealthy marriage, was my marriage.
From the moment I asked Charles to leave our home, the abuse escalated. Charles felt his controlling grip begin to loosen and he noticed that I was changing. He was beginning to notice that I was getting stronger in my will to stand up to him and this scared him. And when Charles felt threatened, the devil that lived inside of him would rear its ugly head.
First it began with constant phone calls all hours of the day and night at home and at work. He began following me everywhere I went and showing up at my place of employment, friends houses, the mall, restaurants…you name it, he was ALWAYS THERE.
He would call me early in the morning and give me a blow by blow of what I had done the night before, who I was with and where I went, what I was wearing, what time I had left my house and what time I returned home.
So many times, he or his own father paid for other people to follow me, purposely scare me or try to run me off the road and take my picture. These strangers were PAID terrorize me. He even went as far as hiring someone to come to my front door late one night posing as a person who had lost their dog.
The stalking and harassment and threats never stopped. At this point, I was forced to file a restraining order to try and keep Charles away from me and Miranda. But the abuse continued. And escalated. The restraining order just fueled his anger even more.
It became so exhausting and so scary that I was encouraged to press charges to have him arrested for stalking and for violating his restraining order. I had to document every single thing happened from the ungodly amount of phone calls to the times we exchanged Miranda and every conversation and every unexpected visit. I had to document every time I noticed him following me and when he showed up at my place of employment.
I became the QUEEN of documentation. Because you see…the burden of proof is always put on the victim to prove that she is in danger and scared to death for herself and her children.
During this time, we were fighting over custody. I felt it appropriate that he only get supervised visitation. After all, he had threatened to kill us many times. I didn’t think that that was an unreasonable request. But, of course, he wanted to get full custody. It was nasty and it was terrifying. I was terrified for Miranda’s life and mine but I could not convince a judge that Charles was a DANGEROUS man. So many times, I kept hearing “I’m sorry, but we can’t do anything until something happens.”
Charles would call me in the middle of the night during Miranda’s visits, threatening to kill Miranda and then himself. This, of course, would send me into a panic of monumental proportions. I would call the police; they would go and check on them and Charles would laugh and say that I was the crazy ex-wife who was harassing HIM.
He would get a pat on the back and he would go right back to stalking and threatening. He would call me even after the police left.
I would get so many phone calls that I could not keep up with all of the documentation on my own, so my parents hired an answering service to answer and document all calls coming from him.
Charles made it his life’s mission to stalk me even using the Bossier City Ambulance he was driving to follow me. And his partner NEVER reported it. He would sit outside of the courthouse where I worked and just watch. He wanted me to know that he was always watching me.
After months of stalking and after months of documenting, and after nearly losing my job, I finally obtained enough evidence to have him arrested. I had a huge 3 ring binder of all of the evidence that me, my mother and her secretary put together. I had done my part 100%.
Finally, he was going to jail and for once during this whole battle, he was finally going to be held accountable for the abuse he was causing. After months and months of calling the police, after pleading with the fire chief to PLEASE talk to him and hold him accountable, and after months and months of pleading with his parents to help control him, he was FINALLY going to jail. But…
Instead of going to the firehouse to arrest Charles, they called him as a courtesy so as not to embarrass him in front of his coworkers. They asked him to just come down to the station, turn himself in. They assured him it would be hush hush and he would be out of there by the end of business that day.
Within an hour of being arrested, he posted bail and was right outside my house sitting in his truck watching. Again. Charles was NOT held accountable. Again, another pat on the back.
NO ONE listened to me. No one in authority would listen.
NO ONE wanted to believe that this man was DANGEROUS.
Once Charles was sentenced, his original sentence of 8 months of jail time was suspended. Instead, the judge ordered him to participate in 10 sessions with a certified psychiatrist and he had to report to his parole officer once a week. He was also granted joint custody even though he had just been convicted of a crime.
But instead of making Charles do those sessions with a certified psychiatrist, his parole officer reduced his sentence yet again, to just one weeks’ worth of anger management. Charles did NOT need anger management. Charles managed his anger just fine. Especially when there were witnesses.
Charles was never held accountable for anything. He was a member of the “brotherhood” and he most certainly received preferential treatment.
He used the uniform and the ambulance to inflict a fear and intimidation like you’ve never known and THEY allowed it.
He used the uniform as a way of getting away with harassing me. He knew that if I called the police, they wouldn’t do a thing to him because he was a “Bossier City Firefighter.”
I thought the torture would never stop. I was always on high alert, he was always stalking, threatening and lurking outside my house. I fought this man for 3 solid years. HE WAS EVERYWHERE. If it wasn’t him, it was his own father or some sleazy friend they would hire to continue the torture.
I had almost become numb to it. I had grown accustomed to it. I had grown accustomed to the feeling that one day he would kill me. At one point I had made my peace with it. I didn’t know of any other way to live. Miranda and I never received the help we so desperately needed.
Then one day, I noticed that the incidences were occurring less often. I had noticed that the turmoil had somewhat subsided. Was he getting bored? Was he trying to throw me off by backing off? No. That wasn’t the case at all.
It wasn’t until he met someone else that the torment somewhat subsided. I too had met someone and was trying to live a normal life. Things became quiet and for the first time in a year or more, I thought we had finally made it to a place where we could actually get along. I was so hopeful. I was foolishly optimistic.
Charles turned his attention to a new woman. And I am not going to lie, I was so relieved he was leaving me alone. He had moved on to a new victim and another victim she was.
Her name was Michelle Riley. She was physical therapist at one of the hospitals in Bossier City and the mother of 2 young daughters.
She was beautiful, self-sufficient, she owned her own home and had a great job. She had her whole life ahead of her. A life of promise and success.
After about 8 months, their relationship started to deteriorate. Charles was having financial problems and was basically living off of Michelle. And just like a narcissist does, he professed his love for her, promptly moves in overwhelming her with gifts, charm and false promises.
I found out later that she had become afraid of his controlling behavior. She was living on the ever-changing roller coaster of Charles’ moods.
I found out that she was too afraid to cross him. He had become possessive, delusional and overall too controlling. After they moved in together just after a few weeks of dating, he demanded they get married. It was all too much too fast.
He had asked her to marry him. She said yes, too terrified to tell him no. Over the course of the next couple of months, things began to deteriorate between them and that nagging horrible feeling began to haunt me yet again.
Finally, after her oldest daughter, who was 15 at the time, decided to move back to her dad’s in Nebraska, Michelle found the courage to tell Charles to leave. She had decided that this was not the life she wanted for herself or her daughters.
Charles did leave and moved back in with his parents. As you can imagine, this was a HUGE blow to his ego and he was FURIOUS.
From this point on things began to spiral out of control. He began tormenting her the exact same way he did me. She filed for her own protective order and had begged and pleaded with the fire chief to tell Charles to back off. Charles had violated the restraining order so many times.
Michelle contacted his parole officer, he was put on paid leave and encouraged to see a doctor. After she notified his parole officer, Charles became IRATE. His behavior once again became erratic and increasingly unpredictable. He threatened to kill her and then himself. Charles was becoming unhinged.
He began acting erratic with me again and giving me a hard time about visitation with Miranda.
During the time all of this was happening I had been working for the Caddo Parish Tax Assessor’s office and I had finally gained my deputy assessor’s certification. It had taken me 6 yrs to get my certification and I was so very proud. It was a huge accomplishment for me. I was making a better life for me and Miranda, I was getting paid a little bit more and I was well on my way to a promising career. For the first time EVER…I had everything going for me.
I had recently remarried and my husband, Jeff and I were headed to New Orleans for my pinning ceremony.
Since Charles was given joint custody, I was forced by the judge to leave Miranda in his care until my return 4 days later. It was gut wrenching having to turn away and leave her. And it turned out to be the biggest mistake of my entire life.
On a cold Tuesday night, January 12, 1999 Charles went to his parent’s house and switched vehicles with his dad. He then picked Miranda up from daycare and then drove to the hospital where Michelle worked. She had been in a staff meeting with several of her co-workers and was due to leave the building at approximately 5pm.
Charles pulled into the parking lot, but he parked on the opposite side of the hospital so as not to be seen or recognized by Michelle as she was leaving the building. As Michelle was walking out, surrounded by her friends and co-workers, Charles approaches her.
He begs her to talk to him. He asks for just 2 minutes of her time and she says NO! She tells him he is not supposed to be there and if he does not leave, she is calling the police. She tells him, that he is violating his restraining order yet again.
It was at this time that Charles pulls out a Smith and Wesson .38 Special, that he got from his father, and he shoots Michelle point blank in the face 3 times. Michelle drops to the ground, dead and unrecognizable. People began to run and scatter, screaming and running for cover. They were hiding under cars and running into the open field next to the parking lot.
Charles drags her lifeless body to a grassy median and lays her body out. He then, ever so calmly, walks to the vehicle where he left my little girl sitting alone. He carried Miranda over to Michelle’s dead body and he holds her on his lap. He begins to talk to her. Whispering in her ear, according to witness statements.
He then puts the gun to her tiny temple and pulls the trigger. He turns her over and shoots her again. He then, lays Miranda’s body next to Michelle’s. He then pulls out a hunting knife, that he got from his father and begins to stab and slice Michelle’s body over and over and over again.
In the blink of an eye, 2 innocent people were dead. This man was Miranda’s father. Her father failed her. He was supposed to love and protect her. He was supposed to be the example she would judge all other men against AND HE KILLED HER.
Within minutes, the very fire station that Charles worked at had to make that call. He KNEW his coworkers his coworkers would be the ones to come to help. He had been planning it all along. Police were on the scene and the ambulance was there waiting to try and help the victims, but Charles refused to put his weapon down.
The police asked him over and over to put down his weapon and he refused. He slowly brought his weapon up and pointed it at police. The officers had no choice but to shoot. After several rounds, Charles Robert Salley, Jr. was dead.
He had killed my only child. He had taken a precious life that was not his to take. He had taken the mother of 2 young girls. The scene, as you can imagine, was a scene of total chaos and confusion.
Charles murdered Miranda just 4 days shy of her 4th birthday. I had already planned her party and sent out her invitations. I was 6 hours away and had a very long 6-hour drive back to Shreveport. It was the worst 6 hours of our lives. I had absolutely no details. Only that my precious daughter was dead.
Miranda died that night at approximately 5:30 pm with 2 gunshot wounds to her tiny head. At 9:30 that Tuesday night, I got the call from the Chaplain of the Bossier City Fire Dept.
My mind could not comprehend what had happened. I had so many questions.
1. How was I supposed to live the rest of my life without her?
2. How was I supposed to be a loving wife and partner to this man who loved Miranda like his own? We had only been married for 3 weeks.
3. How were we going to build a life together after such a horrific event?
Here I was with a wonderful husband looking back at me completely helpless.
Within a couple of hours, the story hit the news. My mother was working in Houston, and my dad had just gotten off work, and my brother was living in Ft. Worth at the time. We were scattered around living our lives when our world literally stopped spinning.
The days that followed were an absolute blur. I had to make some tough decisions. We were all depending on our bodies to take over what our brain and our hearts could not comprehend. Like a machine. And it was by shear perseverance and determination that I decided that Charles Salley WAS NOT going to have the last word. I decided right then that I was not going to let him win. He may have thought he won by trying to destroy me by killing my daughter but I had other plans. I was NOT going to allow him to steal the joy I had by starting a new life. I was NOT going to allow him or his family to scare me any longer. I decided right then and there that I was going to fighter harder than ever before to tell the world exactly what he had done.
Before he killed Miranda and Michelle, Charles left behind a suicide tape detailing his plan and the reasons why he felt justified in murdering.
Michelle-If I can’t have her, then no one will.
Miranda-It was revenge.
I decided then that I was going to have the last word. And I came up swinging.
I was determined to tell this heartbreaking story to the whole wide world. I am determined to shout it from the highest mountain.
Maybe…just maybe…THIS time someone will listen.
I stand before you today, 21 years later an example of resiliency and hope. I stand before you today a woman so strong in her desire to advocate for the rights and protection of women and children.
I started the process of healing by embracing my grief and allowing my heart, my body and my mind to process the trauma. The grief was mine and I knew that I needed to allow my whole being to carefully process what had happened.
I had a wonderful husband and family who were my amazing support system. I am one of the very few victims of domestic violence who had a support system. Because many victims have absolutely no one. Their abuser has managed to isolate them from all friends and family and everyone that loves them.
My entire family went on a crusade. We began our healing by being proactive. WE all became advocates for victims of Domestic Violence. We as a family spoke out about the laws that needed to be changed and applied. WE held attorneys, judges, law enforcement and the Bossier City Fire Dept accountable for DOING NOTHING.
We as a family put up billboards, printed magazines and my mother and I both began to speak up and speak out. WE as a family sought family counseling together and we healed by thrusting ourselves into trying to help others who were suffering with violent partners or a justice system that just won’t listen.
During the hardest times in our lives, helping others helped us.
Domestic violence is a very broad topic. It is not black and white. It is not just broken bones and black eyes and bruises. And it is hard for many people to understand the dynamics of Domestic Violence.
The unique part about my story is that Charles never physically abused me. His form of abuse was mental and emotional abuse, intimidation and he used his uniform and his influence to control me and Michelle.
If you think that a mental and emotional abuser doesn’t kill, well the proof lies in a tiny grave in South Louisiana.
A year after Miranda was murdered, I found out that Charles had approached a fellow fire fighter to see if he might know someone who would kill me and my family.
Charles was planning a hit. This man was so upset and he actually reported it to his captain. The Captain did not take it seriously and never reported it to the chief.
Over the past 21 years I have spent my time advocating for victims and bringing more awareness to DV. I have traveled the world with my husband, who just recently retired from the Air Force after 27 years of service. I have raised 2 amazing children now 19 and 17.
And now I am back in Louisiana. I have come full circle and my goal is to take Louisiana by storm. More than anything I want to collaborate with our law enforcement and our justice system and our Domestic Violence organizations to help educate our community and this wonderful state that I love so much.
This is my calling. This is what I want to do until I take my last breath. I will NEVER be silenced. I will ALWAYS be Miranda’s voice and the voice for victims whose voices have been silenced by domestic homicide.
I would also like to add, that regardless of the sad circumstances of Miranda and Michelle’s murder, I am forever grateful and supportive to our law enforcement and our first responders. Domestic Violence calls have proven to be one of THE most dangerous calls for our police officers.
I can only imagine how hard it was for police to pull their triggers that day and take down a mad man. I know and felt the overwhelming disbelief and sadness that Charles’ fellow firefighters felt the day they had to look down at a small child and fellow brother and pull the blanket over their faces.
During Miranda’s funeral, the back half of the large church we attended, was literally a sea of blue. It was standing room only. We even had a police escort for the 2 ½ hour drive to our family plot.
Miranda’s birthday is January 16th. She died on January 12th just 4 days shy of her 4th birthday. Every year I allow myself to grieve and I allow myself to celebrate this little life I so beautifully created.
As strange as it may seem to al of you, I thank the Universe for this horrific experience. It has taken years to realize this experience was a gift.
Because I could only be grateful when I realized that I would have rather known her for just a second than never at all.
I would rather endure the inexplicable pain of outliving her than to have never seen her precious face or spoken her sweet name. I am truly and deeply grateful to Miranda for choosing me to be her mother.
I am the one who would be able to fight for her like no other. And not only fight for her but fight for a cause that has plagued our society for centuries. VIOLENCE AGAINST WOMEN.
There is a woman who unknowingly has given hope to not only me, but many other women in Louisiana. I did not have the pleasure of meeting this woman because he died in the Spring of 2014. Her name was Gwen Cox Salley.
In the Spring of 2014, I received a Facebook message from a friend informing me that on May 2, 2014, Charles’ brother, Mike Salley, kidnapped his wife, Gwen and attempted to kidnap their little girl. He made her drive to wooded area where he shot and killed her. Then he killed himself.
Just a few weeks before he murdered her, Mike was arrested a few days before for holding his wife and daughter hostage at gun point and threatening to kill his wife Gwen. But he was soon released after posting bail. Later that month Gwen was dead.
Gwen Salley sacrificed her life to give us all hope and something to hold onto. Soon after her murder, her sister, Theresa worked tirelessly with our judicial system to find justice for her sweet sister. And Gwen’s Law was passed in the state of Louisiana.
Gwen’s Law states that there will be a holding period for those arrested for domestic violence until a hearing to assess whether or not the abuser will cause further harm. A cooling off period, if you will.
Women should NOT have to die so that others may stay alive.
In closing, I would like to share with you one of my favorite quotes by Oprah Winfrey. To me, it is just so profound and it touched me and it made so much sense to me. She says:
“I have interviewed and portrayed people who have withstood some of the ugliest things life can throw at you, but the one thing they all seem to share is the ability to maintain HOPE. Hope for a brighter morning, even during our darkest nights.”
I stand before you today a perfect example of what hope is. Because I surely would not have survived my darkest nights had I not had HOPE that somehow, I would survive it.
