Her father’s killer wants his freedom. After 33 years, she faced him down

Katilin Stitt Wilbur had never seen her father’s killer until Friday.

She was only 6 1/2 when Terry Lynn Stitt was gunned down along Interstate 82 near Benton City after picking up three hitchhikers.

Stitt Wilbur’s life changed forever that day, but it took nearly 34 years for her to face convicted killer David John Lennon and tell him he belongs behind bars.

“The only comfort over the years was knowing he was sentenced to life in prison without possibility of parole,” Stitt Wilbur said, choking back tears. “I know keeping him in prison won’t get my dad back, but it will keep David Lennon from destroying other lives like he did ours. I plead with you, do not grant him any type of leave or parole.”

Lennon, 60, filed a petition to have his life sentence commuted.

However, his only hope now of becoming a free man stands with Gov. Jay Inslee after the Washington state Clemency & Pardons Board voted 4-0 Friday to deny Lennon’s request.

The board’s recommendation goes to the governor for a final decision.

“A life was taken for the mere purpose of stealing a vehicle, stealing money from the deceased, hiding the crime and, as a result of that, lives have been changed forever,” said vice chairman Jim McDevitt, a Spokane lawyer and a former U.S. attorney for the Eastern District of Washington.

“Children grew up without a father. People grew up without a friend, without a valued employee, etc. etc.,” he added. “And while difficult for the petitioner, he was an adult … and because he chose to take that life, in my view, he has forfeited the opportunity or the privilege of living within a free society.”

Lennon is locked up for aggravated first-degree murder in Stitt’s July 4, 1984, death.

He participated in Friday’s hearing in Olympia via Skype from the state prison in Monroe. While those in the hearing room could see Lennon on a large screen, he reportedly could not see them.

Board chairwoman Jennifer J. Rancourt said the members were looking for extraordinary circumstances to make a positive recommendation.

Rancourt, a Snohomish County public defender, described Stitt’s killer as “a very seriously disturbed person” who was manipulative and cunning during the judicial process.

She was referencing Lennon’s innocent by reason of insanity plea and claims at trial that he suffered from paranoid schizophrenia and had multiple personalities.

“The callous, cold, brutal, heinous nature of this offense stands out to me amongst the dozens and dozens and dozens of petitions that we’ve reviewed,” Rancourt said.

Stitt, 30, was an employee in the city of Yakima’s public works department.

He had cashed a paycheck the night of July 3 and was planning to pick up his 4-year-old son and 6-year-old daughter from a visit with his former wife.

At some point he saw Lennon and two teenage boys hitchhiking in Yakima and agreed to drive them to Pasco, where Lennon claimed he had relatives.

Four hours later, Stitt stopped his car on the highway about four miles west of Benton City. He was shot several times and dragged about 15 to 20 feet off the road. His body was later found by a teenager picking up litter.

Lennon, then 27, was arrested six days later at a roadblock in Missoula, Montana. He was driving Stitt’s car and had tossed a .38-caliber revolver during a chase.

Around the time of Stitt’s slaying, Lennon was declared an escapee from the Oregon State Prison at Salem, where he had served six years of a 12-year term for two convenience store robberies and an escape attempt. He had been released that prior May to prepare for his parole, but failed to report back to his probation officer.

Jon Zulauf, a lawyer and founder of The Seattle Clemency Project, described his client Friday as someone who “shows extreme remorse for his conduct,” is sympathetic to the victims and “has transformed his life in exceptional ways.”

It was the murder of Lennon’s own brother in 1989 that turned him around and “allowed him to feel sympathy and empathy for other people for the first time,” Zulauf said.

Lennon told the board that drugs used to rule his life, and after his release from prison in May 1984 he struggled to find work. He said shooting Stitt later that summer will haunt him forever.

“It was the single worst thing I’ve ever done, and I’ll have to carry that until my end,” Lennon said. “He shouldn’t have died and I’m completely responsible.”

Lennon said he’s had many accomplishments during the last three decades, including earning three associate’s degrees, learning programs for drafting and computer programmer, and overall devoting himself to education.

He said his passion is in architecture, and he believes he could help with the state homeless problem by working on small houses.

“I’ve changed as much as I can of myself, but it’s still a process,” he said. “I don’t say that it’s done and I’m good now. I say that there’s more to do and I hope you give me a chance on that.”

Lennon said he would like to meet with Stitt’s family and work with them through their ongoing grieving process.

“I don’t think they should bear the pain of that moment anymore in their lives, and I would like to help take it away,” he said. “I understand their pain. I lost my brother to the same kind of violence. Forgiving doesn’t mean forgetting.”

Deputy Prosecutor Kristin McRoberts, who made the drive over from Benton County, said Lennon is continuing to downplay what happened that night in 1984.

If Lennon really was concerned for his safety, he had many opportunities to get out of the car and leave. But his intent all along was to steal the car and harm Stitt.

“The state certainly doesn’t come here disputing the amazing accomplishments as far as education goes that (Lennon) has had in prison. He’s done a lot with the opportunities he’s had,” McRoberts said. “I just don’t think conduct like this can be eclipsed by gaining educational opportunities in prison.”

Stitt Wilbur started off by telling the board she is the proud daughter of Stitt.

“This is extremely hard for me because I’ve had to relive the events that happened to me when I was a child,” she said, flanked by her husband and their oldest son. “And this is the first time I’ve ever laid eyes on David Lennon, so that in itself is far more than I can even express to you how difficult it is.”

Stitt Wilbur displayed pictures of her father, her grandmother and her brother. She described her dad as her hero with “a smile that could light up a room.”

She said it was hard to understand her dad was gone, and recalls going to his funeral and wondering if he really was inside the casket or if it was a mistake.

“We would cry for our dad and long for the impossible — to be held in his arms, to hear ‘I love you,’” she said. “I remember wanting to die so that I could be with my dad again.”

Stitt Wilbur said her 38-year-old brother, Chris, lives life in “a numbness state” and remains broken from their dad’s death all these years later. They were the three amigos, she said.

“David Lennon didn’t just take my dad from me that day, he also took my brother,” she said. “I thought about going and confronting David Lennon numerous times in my life, but changed my mind because I thought it would only bring more darkness to my heart. I have struggled to live in the present and feel in the present.”

The daughter said if Lennon truly understood the extent to which she and her family continue to be devastated by Stitt’s death, the killed wouldn’t have come before the board asking for release.

“All I have heard and read from David Lennon’s side is smoke and mirrors. He’s emphasizing his education and minimizing that he murdered my dad,” she said. “He is flipping it around and acting like he is the victim because he’s had to give 33 years of his life. Well, so has my dad.”

This story was originally published March 9, 2018 at 7:49 PM with the headline "Her father’s killer wants his freedom. After 33 years, she faced him down."