You Can Run but You Can't Hide (47 page)

any other I’ve ever known. No other woman could put up with me.

I come with a lot of baggage. And to be honest, any other guy

would probably kill Beth!

Since that trip to Vegas, I kept telling Beth to pick a date. I was

serious about getting married. When we began filming our third

season of
Dog the Bounty Hunter,
the producers heard some dis-

cussion of a possible wedding. Beth was overwhelmed by her day-

to-day responsibilities as a wife, mother, and reality television star,

M y We d d i n g Da y

291

so her sister Melinda picked up the slack and helped her plan the

wedding. Even if I wanted to, there was no way I could back out

now!

The date was set for May 20, 2006. We decided to get married on

the Big Island at the Hilton Waikoloa, where I was a speaker at a

Tony Robbins seminar. That hotel meant a lot to me. Whenever I

was going through rough times, I drove out to the Hilton for peace

and serenity. I took Beth on many dates there too, so the place had

a lot of significance for us. It was the perfect spot to commit our-

selves to each other for the rest of our lives.

Beth wanted a traditional wedding, including seeing me in a

tuxedo, which was never going to happen. She flew to Los Angeles

to have her dress made. As for me? All I wanted to do was bounty

hunt. The closer the wedding day got, the more I thought about

ways to push it back. I didn’t like all the fuss that was being made. I

was grateful for Melinda’s help, because she is one of the few peo-

ple in the world who can keep Beth calm. I jokingly sang, “Here

Comes the Dog” to the tune of the wedding march to ease my

nerves. It made everyone laugh.

Almost all of our family and friends flew to the Big Island for a

weekend of fun and festivities. My eldest daughter, Barbara Katie,

didn’t come. She was having a hard time, fighting her own personal

demons, trying to get straight and sober. I begged her to go into re-

hab so she could kick her drug habit, but she flat-out refused. She

didn’t want to be branded as “Dog’s daughter who went to rehab.”

Barbara and I had a very special relationship. When the doctors

told me I had a baby girl, I was certain they had made a mistake. I

was the type of guy who fathered boys. When she was born, I had

just gotten back custody of Duane Lee and Leland. Zebadiah had

died. Wes and J.R. were living in Utah with their mom. I was afraid I

wouldn’t know what to do with a little girl; all I knew was taking care

of baby boys. When the nurses let me hold Barbara for the first time,

though, I just melted. She went everywhere with me. She was an ex-

cellent student. In fact, she did so well in school that Neil Armstrong

wrote her a letter telling her to keep up the good work. That made

me very proud, because I was never good in school.

When Barbara was a teenager, I thought it was time to send her

to live with her mom. A little girl transitioning into womanhood

292

Yo u Ca n R u n , b u t Yo u Ca n ’ t H i d e

needs a female role model. I was a single dad who didn’t know what

to do with a young girl going through changes. Barbara was my first

daughter.

I had just ended my marriage to Tawny, who wasn’t the kind of

inspiration I thought Barbara needed. I called her mother, Lyssa,

and we both agreed Barbara would be better off living with her for

a while. That’s when everything changed. Barbara went from a

straight-A student to doing drugs and getting pregnant with my

grandson, Travis. Whenever she called for money, I sent whatever I

could, but she never used it for things like diapers or food. The

money usually went toward buying more drugs.

It broke my heart not to include Barbara in my wedding. What

she needed was some tough love. I would have done anything to

help her get sober. In fact, Little Travis came to live with Beth and

me for a year before the wedding. I thought looking after him might

free Barbara up to take care of herself. No such luck. Despite our

efforts, she wouldn’t straighten out. I decided not to send her a

ticket to come share in our big day.

I woke up feeling really happy on the morning of the wedding.

I kept saying out loud, “I’m getting married today.” I said it with

pride and love. Everything was great. That is, until I realized I was

still asleep. I was dreaming. In my dream, I had a premonition that

something happened to one of my kids. I saw paramedics trying to

save a child. I couldn’t tell which one.

“They’re not going to make it. I’m so sorry.”

But then . . . “Wait! We have a heartbeat. It’s OK.”

I woke up feeling panicked and unsure of what just happened. I

was so relieved it was all just a dream.

Beth got up hours before me. I hadn’t heard a word from her

since she crawled out of bed. Usually she snuggles with me. I had

an inexplicable, unshakable feeling that my world was about to be

rocked—and not because I was getting married.

Beth came into the bedroom terror-stricken.

“Duane. One of the kids has been badly hurt.” I will never for-

get the look on her face or the tone of her voice.

My mind flashed back to my dream. My first thought was it had

to be one of the younger kids. “Was it Gary?”

Beth was pale and so shaken. “No. It’s Barbara. Duane, she was

in a very bad car accident last night.”

M y We d d i n g Da y

293

Tears were streaming down my cheeks. “Not my Barbara. No.

Please, Lord. Not my little girl.”

“She didn’t make it.”

Whoosh. I have never felt such anger and pain wash over my

body. I went crazy. I was screaming and yelling, “They brought her

back, Beth. I saw the paramedics. They said she was going to be

fine.” Of course, Beth had no idea what I was talking about. “They

brought her back. I saw it with my own two eyes.” I was in total

denial.

“Duane, they didn’t bring her back. What are you talking about?

You’re not making any sense, honey. Barbara is gone.”

I wanted to go to Alaska. I was so mad at Barbara’s mother for

not watching over our daughter. I paced and paced until I finally

locked myself in the bathroom and howled like a wolf. I screamed

until my voice went hoarse and finally was completely gone. I was

in agony. I couldn’t handle the heartache. I didn’t want anyone

around me.

The camera crew from our show was there as usual and kept try-

ing to get shots of me. “No cameras. Don’t you dare!” I wanted to rip

the cameras out of their hands and smash them to the floor.

Looking back, I know they were only trying to do their job. Our

show is very real, no scripts or second takes. What was happening

was painful and private, but the cameras were part of what I signed

up for when I agreed to let them follow me around for the sake of

creating compelling television. Even so, I warned the guy not to lift

the camera off the ground or I’d crush him.

I cried and cried. Saying over and over, “Why didn’t I bring her

here? If only I had bought her a ticket, Barbara would still be alive.”

I beat myself up for choosing to leave Barbara in Alaska.

Thankfully, our pastor, Tim Story, arrived to console me. He

was in Hawaii to officiate at my wedding. And now, he would pre-

side over my daughter’s funeral. His infinite wisdom and guidance

were the only reason I made it through that day. He reminded me of

the importance of family and the Lord’s great and mighty plan.

Tim and I prayed. I needed to understand God’s will—that on this

day, of all days, my wedding day, He took my child.

“Lord, I know you have great power to giveth and taketh away.

But why, Lord? Why today? Why Barbara? Why?” I kept asking the

same questions over and over. It made no sense.

294

Yo u Ca n R u n , b u t Yo u Ca n ’ t H i d e

I wasn’t convinced we should go through with the wedding. I

had so many questions. I needed answers. I was very upset and dis-

traught. And yes, I was angry.

I called my ex-wife Lyssa.

“I left my babies in your care. One was raped and now the other

is dead. How did this happen? You’re their mother.”

I began grilling Lyssa with questions I so desperately wanted an-

swered: “What drugs did Barbara die with in her blood? Who was

the guy in the car? Do you even know who our daughter was with

when she was killed?”

Reluctantly, she said, “I’d like to say I didn’t know.” Which told

me she either knew the guy and fully understood he was bad news,

or she was so out of it herself that she had no idea where Barbara

was going or with whom. Either way, it wasn’t good. The longer I

spoke to Lyssa that morning, the angrier I became. I was mad at

both her and Barbara for making such dumb decisions.

I stayed angry until the day of Barbara’s funeral. Lyssa and I

locked eyes. The Lord spoke to me and said, “As bad as you’re hurt,

her pain is double. She doesn’t have your strength. She won’t make

it if you don’t love her.” I realized you can offer love, even when it’s

kindled by death.

After hearing the news, it took me a couple of hours to calm

down. I called a family meeting with Beth and our children to dis-

cuss whether or not we should proceed with the wedding. Initially,

the older boys expressed their concern about moving forward. I

knew that God wouldn’t kill one of my babies to keep me from mar-

rying Beth. I often turn to the Old Testament when I am being chal-

lenged by God, and now I spoke to some Jewish friends who came to

celebrate with us. They said it was in the Old Testament that no

matter what happens, you have to go through with the wedding. In

my gut, I knew it was God’s will to go through with our plans.

I think it was what Barbara would have wanted too. As confirma-

tion that I was right, Baby Lyssa turned to me and said, “Dad, if

Barbara were here, she’d want you to go ahead.” She was right. Bar-

bara was Baby’s hero, so she knew what Barbara would have wanted

better than anyone. I never knew how deep Baby Lyssa’s love for her

sister was until that day.

I am the leader of our family. It was up to me to be strong, forge

ahead, and set an example. I’m not sure we could have proceeded

M y We d d i n g Da y

295

without all of my loved ones. We had each other to lean on. Tim

Story told us there would be time to mourn. I had to put away all of

my emotions about losing Barbara and be present in this moment. As

hard as it would be for everyone, we would make it through the day.

I decided the wedding would go on as planned.

I got dressed in my white leather vest, a pair of Levi’s, and my

favorite black-and-white python boots. I wore white armbands and

my favorite pair of black sunglasses. Tim Story and I rode up to the

resort in a canoe, Elvis Presley–style. The two canoes pulled up on

either side of the platform where the ceremony was to be held.

There was a huge archway adorned with stargazer lilies and white

roses. It took four people to hold it down because it was a terribly

windy night.

Beth looked beautiful in her flowing ivory dress. I watched her as

she navigated her way down the grand spiral staircase. This was

Beth’s big day, and I wanted it to be the happiest day of her life. I

watched her come closer. She was carefully taking each step one at

a time. Her dress was so huge, if the wind caught her just right or if

she caught a heel in her train, she was going over the rail. I remem-

ber thinking, “Don’t fall!” Just what we needed—a trip to the hos-

pital! I breathed a great big sigh of relief when she finally stood by

my side. It had been such an emotional day. We couldn’t believe we

were actually getting married. I will never forget my wedding day,

ever.

C h a p t e r F i f t y - f o u r

ROOM FOR TWO MORE

After Barbara died,
Beth and I decided to raise her son

Travis as our own. He is, after all, my grandson. From time to time,

Barbara spoke to me about the boy’s biological father—whose

name is also Travis—but according to her, he didn’t want anything

to do with the baby. I had never met the father, so I had nothing to

go on except what Barbara told me. I thought he hadn’t taken any

responsibility for the boy and had refused to acknowledge him or

see him, which is something I simply could not understand.

Not long after Barbara’s funeral in Denver, I received a call from

Travis. He said he wanted to meet his child. I was pretty surprised

to hear from him, because Barbara had painted a slightly different

picture than the one he was presenting.

No way was I about to hand over my grandson to a young man I

had never met. Beth and I were the legal guardians. We didn’t have to

allow Travis the opportunity, but he is the baby’s daddy. I didn’t care

that other people warned me not to give him a chance. I’m Duane

“Dog” Chapman. I know first-hand what it feels like for a man to