‘Culture of Violence’ in Some Areas : Rural Murders Shatter Image of Country Life

It was not yet 7 a.m., and a chill hung over the green meadows and gardens of this quiet town near snow-capped Mt. Rainier.

Roosters crowed and old dogs yawned and stretched on front porches. Dairy farmer Tom LaCrosse was in his barn and already hard at work, with no reason to doubt that he would be around to savor the warmth of another summer afternoon.

A few minutes later, a distraught man named Kenneth Gehring stormed into the farmyard with a rifle. Within minutes, four people lay dying: LaCrosse and his wife, Rutheda, milk truck driver Kirby Hull, and Gehring, who had turned the rifle on himself.

The violence was not confined to the LaCrosse farm. It shocked this town of 3,500 and touched everyone who had known the victims. It stole from everyone who had cherished a peaceful life away from urban problems.

Everyone Is Affected

“In a small community like this, when someone is taken it takes a piece out of everyone here,” Karen Stannard, a neighbor of the LaCrosses, said.

Moving to the country does not guarantee a sheltered, risk-free life. FBI statistics show that while big cities still have the highest murder rates, rural counties consistently place second, with a per-capita murder rate that outstrips those of suburbs and smaller cities.

And those figures are based on averages. Certain rural areas--beset with poverty, inadequate education levels and disruptive social changes--have developed what some sociologists call a “culture of violence” in which the homicide rate may exceed nationwide norms. Such areas include those populated by minorities that have been oppressed. Some of them are in the black South, the Southwest tribal territories and Alaska.

The latest FBI data show that rural counties reported 1,233 arrests for murder in 1987, for a rate of 5.7 homicides per 100,000 residents. The average murder rate among all U.S. cities was 10.2; the average for suburbs was 4.9.

Rural murders shatter the idyllic image of country life, and indeed, buck the trends in crime. Theft, vandalism, rape and assault are less common in the country than in more populous areas.

Murder may occur more often in the country, sociologists suggest, because killing is often a very personal affair.

“Homicide is something that typically occurs among people who have a close relationship with each other,” Kenneth Wilkinson, a rural sociologist at Pennsylvania State University, said.

One theory holds that in rural areas, people have a higher proportion of primary relationships--an academic way of saying that everybody knows everybody else’s business. When life turns sour, an individual may lash out at someone he knows well, and that can be almost anyone around.

Wilkinson offered another potential factor: the erosion of community bonds.

“The romantic images of the rural past indicate a closeness of community,” he said. “In contrast to our image of the way things used to be, rural areas (now) tend to have weak community relationships.”

The small town once may have met most social, emotional and economic needs, but now country dwellers often must travel to a city to satisfy those needs--or leave them unsatisfied until that leads to violence.

Such theories offer little comfort, however, when the statistics have names and the incomprehensible happens close to home. Such was the case on June 7 in Graham.

Tom and Rutheda LaCrosse, both 63, were well liked and ran their farms as cleanly as their personal lives. Tom had operated his 400-cow dairy, one of the county’s largest, for 23 years. Rutheda had been judged young enough at heart to be elected queen of the Pierce County Fair.

Helpful to Friends in Trouble

Neighbors say the LaCrosses wouldn’t hesitate to help a friend in trouble, and such a friend was Eileen May Gehring. She had problems with her estranged husband, Kenneth, and he was ignoring a court order to stay away from her. On June 6, while Eileen May was visiting with the LaCrosses, Gehring arrived and drove away in her car. A sheriff’s deputy gave her a ride home.

Gehring returned the next morning, apparently looking for his wife. According to sheriff’s reports, Gehring drove into the farmyard and confronted the truck driver, Kirby Hull, outside the milking barn. There were angry words and Gehring shot Hull.

Tom LaCrosse and a farm worker rushed from the barn’s office to find Gehring holding the .22-caliber rifle. Gehring forced LaCrosse into the farmhouse, where he killed him and Rutheda LaCrosse. Then he shot himself in the head.

Investigators said Gehring had no criminal record and there was no indication that the slayings were motivated by anything but anger over the breakup of his marriage.

The frightening frequency of homicide has conditioned many people to expect such grisly events in big cities, but it’s just not supposed to happen in a place like Graham. The rural murder rate, while high, covers vast and sparsely populated areas, so a killing in any one small town is a rare event.

Such a tragedy can cause fear of crime and fear of strangers, which Wilkinson said is both unfortunate and misdirected, “because when trouble arises, usually the killer is someone you know.” After a slaying, voters seeking a scapegoat have been known to oust the local sheriff, who may be more used to investigating bicycle thefts than homicides.

‘Wrenching’ Social Impact

“In rural areas where homicides happen, it’s wrenching,” Wilkinson said. “People wonder, ‘What’s happening to our community?’ ”

Down at Graham Auto Parts, manager Bob Sorenson mourned the farmer who used to grab him playfully in a headlock until Sorenson grew big enough to put the same hold on LaCrosse.

“It’s hard to believe you could know somebody that long, and that he could go so quickly,” Sorenson said.

The funeral was weeks ago, and the talk at the post office and the parts shop is back to the county fair and carburetors. But Graham will never be quite the same. A measure of its innocence was stolen on that day in June.

“It has made us more cautious,” Karen Stannard said. “I think there are doors being locked now that were never locked before.”