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He was attention deficit, hyperactive disordered, as well as artistic. He had speech and motor impairments.
Norton Shores is the kind of place that slips easily into the background of a map. It's quiet, picturesque, and unassuming. Tucked along the western edge of Michigan in Muskegon County, this lakeside community sits cradled between the tranquil waters of Mona Lake and the vast, endless stretch of Lake Michigan. Its routes reached back to eighteen forty five, when it was first carved from Ottawa County and named Norton Township.
Two years later, Robinson's Mill rose near Mona Lake, and in the decades that followed, the dense forest gave way to fruit farms. By the eighteen fifties, berries and apples were the backbone of the local economy, carded by hand to wading boats that connected the inland lake to the open waters of Lake Michigan. By the late nineteen sixties, change loomed. Facing the threat of annexation, the township made a decision. In nineteen sixty eight. It formerly incorporated as
the city of Norton Shores. Since then, the city has settled into its identity part suburb port rural haven, a place where people go to live quietly, raise families, and grow old in peace. Just a short drive from the local airport lies Marshall Road, a neatly kept neighborhood of single family homes, the kind of street where kids ride bikes on the pavement and neighbors greet one another by name. The lawns are clipped and the mail boxes are upright.
From the outside, everything appears ordinary. But in twenty twenty two, something happened on Marshall Road that would shatter that illusion, and I'm one. One call came in from a woman who reported that her teenage son was unresponsive. At first glance, it seemed like a tragic accident, but that wasn't the truth behind those walls. Something sinister had been happening for some time. Norton Shores was home to a fifteen year
old boy named Timothy Ferguson. Timothy's parents, Shanda vander Ark and Eric Ferguson, had separated when he was still a little boy. The couple had four children together, Nolan, Paul, Millie, and Timothy. After the breakup, their lives took different paths. Shanda eventually moved to Michigan with Timothy, while Eric headed south to Florida. In Norton Shore, as Timothy didn't just live with his mother, his older brother, Paul, who was
twenty at the time, also lived in the home. Shanda had a younger son as well, just seven years old. The family had once lived in Oklahoma, but by now they were trying to rebuild in a new place in a new chapter. After the divorce, Shanda had remarried a man named Adam. She studied law at Western Michigan University's Cooley Law School and passed the bor exam on her very first try. It was a remarkable accomplishment, and it led her to work as a law clerk for two
different circuit court judges. Her job involved conducting legal research in preparing case memoranda, intellectual work that demanded focus and precision. She worked full time, forty hours a week, earning just over nineteen dollars per R. The tragedy struck again when Adam, her husband, suffered a debilitating stroke. The family dynamics shifted drastically. With Adam unable to work, Shanna became the sole provider, juggling a demanding legal career with the needs of her household.
At home, her adult son Paul, took on a caretaker role, particularly when it came to Timothy, who needed more support than most. Timothy had been diagnosed with multiple developmental and mental health conditions. He was on the autism spectrum, had attention deficit hyperactivity disorder, and also lived with bipolar disorder. Each of these things on their own could be difficult to manage, but together they formed a complex web that
made every day life more challenging. Autism spectrum disorder often meant that Timothy experienced the world differently. His sensory input could be overwhelming at times, and social interaction didn't come easy. He had and motor delays that made communication and movement more difficult. ADHD then added another layer, with bursts of energy and difficulty focusing or sitting still. My polar disorder introduced emotional volatility, sharp eyes, and painful lows that could
come without warning. But not of that to find Timothy. He was a Sweden imaginative boy, one who found comfort and joy in small, focused activities. He loved building legos, following the instructions meticulously, piece by pace, creating models with the kind of patience and determination that often escaped him elsewhere. Sometimes he didn't even need a guide. He would build whole new world from his imagination, placing one colored brick on top of the other, like he was creating order
in a world that so often felt chaotic. His older sister lovingly called him timmed him. She remembered how a smile could light up a room, how despite everything he still remained to hand. There was a gentle spirit in Timothy, a softness that made him easy to love. His siblings said he was vulnerable, yes, but not broken, and he certainly was in a burden. But inside that home on Marshall Road, behind closed doors and beneath the surface of
suburban normalcy, something was unraveling. It was just after six point thirty am on Wednesday, the sixth of July twenty twenty two when a nine one one call came in. On the other end of the line was Shanda vander Arc. Her voice was strained and flat. She told the dispatcher that she had just woken up to find her son, fifteen year old Timothy, unresponsive in his bedroom. Emergency responders were dispatched to the family's home on the four seven
hundred block of Marshall Road. As officers stepped through the front door, they were immediately struck by the stench. The air was thick and suffocating. The family's home was in a state of complete disarray. Filthy divers littered the floors, plates crusted with old food sat on top of the counters, and wrappers were piled in the corner. Even more disturbing, faces had been smeared on the door handles and mashed deep into the carpet. Lieutenant Joel Houksma later said it
wasn't just dirty. Some people lived clean, some people live dirty. This was just gross. The responders made their way into the basement, where Shanda was found kneeling beside Timothy, her hands moving through the motions of CPR, but it was clear that it was too late. His body was limp, cold, and his limbs were beginning to stiffen with rigor mortis. Shanda stepped aside as the paramedics took over, but the heart monitor told them what they already knew. There was
no activity fifteen year old Timothy. He was gone. As the team worked, they couldn't help but taking the environment around them. In one section of the basement was a small windowless room, bare but for a plastic tarp on the floor that smelled of urine. A webcam had been positioned nearby, its lends aimed directly at the top. Then there were handcuffs, and then there was Timothy himself. He was emaciated. His clothes hung off him like empty seals,
his bones pressed sharply through his skin. His face was gaunt and hollow. Officer Ryan Peaskey recollected thought.
That he was extremely unnursed. At least it appeared that way, very skinny. You could see bones protruding from his body, how he could see his ribs through his skin.
Bruises marred Timothy's chest, and he was wearing a heavily soiled at diaper. There was no mistaking what they were saying. Detective Stephanie almardle atter say it was very hard to believe a child of his ai would look like something out of a concentration camp. Timothy's body was transported to the medical Exometer's office, where the phil extent of his suffering was laid bare. He weighed just sixty nine pounds. The cause of death was malnourishment and hypothermia, the pathologist recalled.
So it was it was readily apparent upon viewing the body of Timothy Ferguson that he had a very low body weight. He appeared extremely emaciated. He was sixty eight inches tall of inches long inches tall, and he weighed sixty nine pounds at that point he had it was clear he had really a loss of all of his
body fat. His cheeks were very narrow. He had you could you could see and count all of his ribs and even entrarely when we're looking at him, he in areas where you typically have some body fat within your
abdomen and the different areas there was none. There was only a little bit of connective tissue that would normally hold the fat, but you could see all of his bony prominences, and on his back he had started getting some pressure soores because there wasn't a lot of padding in between his bones and his skin as well, so where those areas had pressure, the skin.
Was starting to break down.
This was not an accident. This was systematic, prolonged torture, and this was only the beginning. Back at the home on Marshall Road, detectives began to paste together a far more disturbing portrait of what life had looked like hand those walls. Room by room evidence painted a picture of control and cruelty. In the bathroom, investigators found bottles of hot sauce, strange on its own, but more disturbing when
they paired with the shackles that lay nearby. There were locks on both the refrigerator and the freezer, restricting even the most basic human need. Food Cameras were minded throughout the home, along with motion sensors. They were watching, recording tracking every movement. One camera was aimed directly into the small closet in the basement. On the door to that closet was an alarm. There was also a bathroom in the basement. Officer Sean Steiphanic recalled.
And then who did it track your motion then?
Or followed me as I walked through the bathroom?
What did you observe about the bathroom itself?
Bathroom was very dirty.
There was adult dirty, adult diapers on the floor, and there's no shower curtain by no.
Shanda was sitting outside on the steps in a state of panic.
He's been he's been wearing really loose close to lest of police. He's really skinny.
He's really skinny, and I didn't notice till this morning because he wouldn't.
Like I asked him if he's okay, and he would not answer it, Like he's fifteen, he's been.
He has autism.
Yeah, I got high functioning.
I just had notes about bad.
Oh my god, Like I said, he did this.
Seconds A strong questisper m. I thought he did this, Bacan, I don't know it second, like in January for almost three weeks and then he finally he ate some.
He ate something last night. I can't remember what it was.
I'm sorry, I'm.
Sure, she told the first response about Timothy's issues, his diagnosises, his behavior, She said that lately stop taking his ADHD medication. According to her, he had gone on a hunger strike for nearly three weeks. She said she had threatened to take him to the hospital if he didn't eat. That seemed to get through to him, she said, and for a brief time he started eating again, But she said that in the past two weeks Timothy had stopped once more.
Even when she offered protein shakes he refused. The night before his death, she told detectives, she warned Timothy again, ate or I'll take you to the hospital. Timothy agreed, she said, and she made him two slices of toast with butter. She claimed he ate about three quarters of one slice, but then refused the rest. That, according to Shanda, was the last real interaction they had at her On five thirty a m. She said she heard a noise Timothy had fallen out of bed. Done in the basement.
Next time so that urine soaked closet sad a mattle bunk pand oh I.
Said the last time he saw him was five thirty this morning. Did he see anything he had fallen out of bed yet?
Five thirty?
Yeah, you sure it wasn't earlier.
I mean it's possible. I thought it was five thirty, but.
I wasn't super awake. I heard a thunk, and I came down and.
He's kind of laying on the side, kind of like what the heck? And I picked I agree, Southy, I'm.
That's all right.
Oh my god, Oh my god.
Yeah, And every sound he pulled himself off and I asked him he's.
Okay, and I just asked me his head.
He said, no, I think I get my my, my knees on my chest.
I think he couldn't.
Obviously, he couldn't tell me how he fell.
Oh my god, Shonda said, an r lead her. She checked again, this time Timothee Wallson breathing.
But we have to investigate every every death, so I can't let anybody go in the basement for now. Medical examiner is going to be coming here in a little bit.
It's a little cluttered down there, but you're fine.
I'm sure you'll see a lot worse.
Okay, You're probably gonna get asked the same questions multiple times, so I'm sorry.
For that, just like I said, I'm feeling, just miss something.
If you want to.
Do that.
It was a thin story and detectives weren't buying it, and they had every reason not to. By the time Timothy Ferguson died, his name was already known to child protective services, just not in Michigan. It was in Oklahoma, years earlier that warning signs first began to surface. The family had been investigated on nine separate occasions. People at church had noticed that Timothy and his three siblings often wore the same filthy clothing. Some were still in soiled diapers,
well past the age they should have been. Something felt wrong, and in February of two thousand and eight, authorities opened their first case. At the time, Timothy was just eighteen months old. The allegations were serious medical neglect, inadequate nutrition. One case worker observed that Timothy was underweight and appeared unhealthy. The family was referred to early intervention programs aimed at helping parents of children with developmental delays or disabilities, but
the case was eventually closed. No children were removed, and the family stayed together, but the reports didn't stop there. One complaint detailed how Shanda and Eric had refused to allow social workers into their home. Another raised concerns about potential sexual abuse taking place in the household. That triggered a deeper investigation. On the twenty fifth of October two thousand and nine, police and social workers arrived at the home.
What they found horrified them. There was faces, animal and human smeared into the carpets. Trash was strewn throughout the rooms. The air stank of decay. But without a court order, they couldn't legally remove the children that day. They came back the next day with the proper paperwork. This time, the house looked different. The floors had been scrubbed, the garbage was gone, but the stench still lingered. Despite the
sudden transformation, authority weren't filled. The children were removed and placed into foster care. Timothy and his siblings spent the next two years apart, living in separate homes. Meanwhile, their parents were given an opportunity to work on their problems. Eric took that chance seriously. He completed parenting classes, He went through counseling. He cooperated. Shanda didn't. She skipped her classes. She told the social worker she had worked through everything
she was willing to. When it came time for the judge to decide custody, the choice was clear. Eric was granted full custody of all four children. Shanda was given supervised visitation three hours a month. In January twenty twelve, Oklahoma's Department of Human Services recommended that her parental rights be terminated, but instead of going through with it, Shanda agreed to give Eric full custody voluntarily. On paper, her rights remained intact in practic this she was gone by then.
Shanda had already started over. She'd moved to Michigan. She'd remarried Adam, She'd had a new baby, she had a new life. But she left something behind, four children who no longer recognized her as their mother. Her daughter, Millie, would later reflect on that severed bond and stated, I haven't referred to her as my mother since I was fourteen or fifteen years old. She hasn't really been a big part of my life, and I prefer to call somebody lovingly by the name of mother when they've earned
that title. To million her siblings, Shanda wasn't a mother, She was just a name. She said. She barely had any part of our lives. I don't think she was a mother for the children. I think she was a mother to call herself a mother. This episode of Morbidology is sponsored by cbd X, and I want to talk to you about something that affects millions of us sleep. If you're like me, you've probably experienced those frustrating nights
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rested self will thank you. That should have been the end of it, but in twenty twenty, one of Schandra's children made a decision. Paul, who was now an adult, chose to move back in with his mother. Timothy, meanwhile was living with his father, Eric and Eric's new wife, Patricia. It wasn't a perfect situation. Timothy had special needs. Patricia tried, but she wasn't trained to care for a child with complex developmental disabilities. It wasn't easy, so she asked Eric
to be more present to help shoulder the responsibility. Instead, Eric made a decision that would ultimately cost Timothy his life. In twenty twenty one, he sent his son to live with Shanda and Paul in Michigan. Almost as soon as Timothy arrived in Michigan, things began to change, not in the way he may have hoped, not with fresh starts or warm welcomes, but with isolation. Jandon never enrolled Timothy in school. When asked, she said that he was being homeschooled.
But there was no curriculum and there was no education. Timothy was being erased from the outside world, one connection at a time. He became a source of conflict between Shanda and her husband, Adam, but that tension was interrupted when tragedy struck. Adam suffered a stroke. He could no longer care for himself, let alone the boys, so he moved out, returning to his parents home to recover. That left Shanda alone in the home, responsible for three children,
all while working full time as a law clerk. The pressure inside that home began to boil over. But the anger, the stress, the cruelty, it didn't fall equally on every one. Timothy became the target. He was punished for existing, for needing too much, for being different, and the abuse wasn't just coming from Shanda, Timothy's older brother Paul, became her enforcer. While Shanda was at work, Paul was left to watch Timothy.
What followed was nothing short of torture. Thousands of text messages between Shanda and Paul would later reveal the daily horrors that Timothy endured. They traded him like a prisoner in his own home. He was stomatically starved. One day, Timothy was caught trying to steal a slice of cheese from the refrigerator. His punishment was to sit in a bath tub filled with ice water. On another day, he was seen eating the crust from a leftover burger. Shanda
made him vomit it up. Water was even forbidden, and if he was given food, it was cruelly twisted into punishment. He was only allowed to eat bread that had been soaked in hot sauce. Sometimes they'd force his mouth open and pour the hot sauce down his throat. Shanda and Paul restrained him with zip ties and shackles. He wasn't even allowed to sleep in a bed. He wasn't even allowed to sleep in a real room. Instead, Timothy was forced to sleep on a urine soaked torp inside a dark,
windowless closet in the basement. That's where he spent his nights. In most of his days, he was hidden from visitors, even his great parents. When he wasn't locked in the closet, he was forced to clean the house without pants on. Paul was the muscl Shanda was the mind behind the madness. She texted Paul from work, instructing him on how to hurt her son. I'm ready to kill Timothy, Paul wrote
in one message. In another, Shanda wrote, please make sure you go downstairs regularly to make sure Timothy isn't asleep before you leave for work. In another, she wrote, maybe we should leave the light on that way, it'll be harder for him to fall asleep. Then she added, I honestly don't care if you get a little rough with him. Paul responded like a willing accomplice. In one message, she wrote, I ended up dragging him back to a small room because I wasn't going to risk him having access to
the towb or other things overnight. He's still trying to be stupid, but I'll tell you more tomorrow when I take you to work, describing how many different ways I can prove he is fake. They convinced themselves, or at least try to, that Timothy was faking his disabilities, that the autism, the eighth Day, and the bipolar disorder weren't real, that he was just being bad. But Timothy wasn't bad.
He was vulnerable, and he was being tortured. Millie, Timothy's older sister, wasn't there to protect him, but she had always thought that Paul was hard on his brother. She later said. Paul loved having a par trip over Timothy. He loved having any sort of control over Timothy as domineering as it could possibly get. And now Paul had all the control he wanted. When the truth finally came out, when detectives uncovered the twisted text messages that documented Timothy's torture,
just just began to stir. By this point, Paul hadn't been arrested. He turned to social media.
Hey, everybody, I just figured i'd send a quick check for y'all.
But we're doing good right now.
I just dozed off on the couch unintentionally, and I forgot.
To give a quick check for today.
But yeah, oh, when I can actually get in contact with you guys, I'll probably.
Post quick check like this for those.
Of you who aren't aware, my little brother has passed away and my mother is currently in the custody of well.
I don't I'm not sure.
If it's it's a lot to deal with, but right now we're doing good.
We're going But if I can't actually.
Like Facebook, you guys like the live because I don't have my phone and I don't know how to access my.
Step dollars, I'll post a quick check.
If you guys know everything's going on it you have any questions or anything, you just calming them down below and I'll see if I can answer them in the next cricket check.
Just keep supporting and praise it for two of us get do this.
Both Shanda vander Ark and her son Paul Ferguson were arrested inside the home. There had been another child, Timothy, seven year old brother. Although he was physically unharmed, he had been forced to witness everything. He told investigators that just days before Timothy was found dead, Paul had dangled a frozen pizzas roll in front of him, taunting him, mocking him. As Shanda watched off. She wanted to say
I Timothy was still mentally coherent. If he tried to eat the pizza roll, Paul was told to rip it away, and that wasn't all, according to the child. The day before Timothy died, Paul gave him an ice bath. He said that his brother had been left in the freezing water for at least nine hours. As the charges against Shanda and Paul were filed, custody arrangements were made for the seven year old boy. He was sent to live with his father, Adam, the man who had suffered a
debilitating stroke. Adam had already filed for divorce from Shanda and he was actively seeking custody. The tragedy would strike the family once more. While the case was still unfolding, Adam passed away from leukemia. Timothy's younger brother was then placed into the care of his paternal grandparents. As the legal system prepared for what would be a long and
painful process, Timothy was led to rest. His body was cremated, his ashes placed inside a customed made ern adorned with the train, a tribute to his love for Thomas the tank engine. He was buried beside his grandmother, a small piece of comfort far too late. On the eighth of July twenty twenty two, Shanda vander Ark was arraigned on
charges of open murder and first degree child abuse. She sat in the courtroom, rocking back and forth in her chair, crying, but for many who heard the details of what she had done, those tears remainingless. The judge denied her bond.
After the hearing, Muskegon County Prosecutor Matt Roberts addressed the press and said the investigation subsequently revealed that Shanda vander Ark had a number of punishments that frankly, were just beyond the pale in terms of what should be administered to a child, most notably the denial of food to the child, feeding the child nothing but bread and bread soaked in hot sauce and hot sauce poured down the child's throat, and placing the child in an ice spath.
Just a week after Shanda vander Ark was charged, her son, Paul, was also charged with first degree child abuse. When detectives brought him in for questioning, Paul's composure crumbled. He held his head in his hands and buried his face into the desk as he admitted to what they had done. He spoke about them withholding food.
One was like the last time.
It was really like talking to you, like able to have a conversation or at least try to add a conversation.
Last time he actually talked was three days ago, about the day of four or the day after that.
The day before yesterday he could talk.
He talked to a small amount in the morning, but then he he just sort of sneaking, crowned and m he concerned me. I was as my mother was driving me to work, as I recommended that maybe we should take him to the hospital.
I'm not sure that ever happened or not. What did she say about that? And you made that recommendation, I see after that.
I think that was like as I was getting out.
Of the car and shutting the door.
He said that in the days before Timothy died, he couldn't even stand. He confessed that he had placed Timothy into the ice bath on the day of his death. He also admitted to hitting him repeatedly in the head with an open hand. He then told detectives that when he was removing Timothy from the bath, he dropped him on his head. Later that night, Shanda had shoved her son into the dark closet mine with a urine soap torp. Timothy curled into a fatal position. Chanda threatened him don't move,
but Timothy never moved again. By morning, he was gone, Paul said. When his mother found him dead, she didn't panic, she didn't cry, She didn't even call nine one one immediately. Instead, she told Paul to get him dressed. At that point, Timothy was wearing nothing but a heavily soiled diaper. And then she told Paul to lie. She made up a story that Timothy had been on a hunger strike. It was a narrative that both of them repeated until they
couldn't any longer. There was no mistaking what had happened.
I must that's your brother.
Yeah, that's June thirteenth, less than a month ago. You sent this picture to her and you said he's looking like a skeleton. Mood to give him more food. But she didn't give him more food.
Over the next couple of weeks, you guys gave him lesson, more questioning, and less bread and more bread with hot sauce.
That's what really happened.
You reached out to her and say this is scary looking right.
You probably thought he can barely walk.
You send a picture of his legs, right you send this picture of his legs to your mother right here, You said this to her, And what you say something along the lines of, no wonder he can barely stand up or walk, look at that.
And your mother being smart and intelligent and the smart.
Woman in the room, she didn't do anything about that, didn't think about taking to the doctor, didn't think about we have to give him some more proofs, like seriously, now, they said, what do you think she did?
She gave him less and more punishment until what he ends up debt? And what does she tell the police?
He was always wearing baggy close so I didn't notice anything until last night.
Another just blatant lie.
As both Shonda and Paul were ordered to stand trial, questions are on their mental capacity were raised. Shonda is to fan Zinn's team requested a competency evaluation. She was found competent and the report read in part in my opinion, Shandavanda Arke was aware of the charges against her, how they came about, and provided a consistent version of how events unfolded from her perspective. Paul was also evaluated. Concerns had been raised about his intellectual capacity. The doctors found
no sign of intellectual disability or mental illness. He was functioning within the normal range of intellectual ability. Both were deemed fit to face justice. Meanwhile, the community tried to make sense of what had happened in their quiet neighborhood. One neighbor, Timothy Minerk, said, it's very disturbing. You see in the news all the bad things, and you wonder when it's going to come to your neighborhood or your
street even and you just never knew. Most of the people on Marshall Road didn't even know that Timothy had been living there. That's how isolated he was. Another neighbor, Neil Husker, said, we didn't even know he was living there. All of us had no idea he was there. But what the most bitter reality of all was that Shanda should never have had costody of Timothy in the first place. His father, Eric had full Costaday legally, but he had
grown overwhelmed. Timothy's needs were many, and Eric had considered calling child protective Services. Instead, he sent his son to live with Shanda and Paul. Within less than a year, Timothy was dead. Shandavan Arc was the first to strand trial, and it began on the thirteenth of December two thousand and twenty three. She walked into court wearing a blue blazer and a dark green turtleneck. Her hair was styled
in French braids. In opening statements, prosecutor Matt rawb Birds warned the jury the evidence they were going to hear was horrifying. He said, as.
We referenced many times yesterday, Unfortunately, as part of this process, you will see some very graphic photographs, images that will not easily leave your mind. But I don't want you to focus on just those photographs. As I repeatedly told you yesterday, I want you to look at the entire picture.
Here.
I will tell you this, the entire picture is just as horrific.
The average fifteen year old male weighs one hundred and thirty two pounds and is sixty eight inches tall at the time of his death. Timothy Ferguson was right on that average height sixty eight inches tall. At the time of his death, Timothy fergus weighed sixty nine.
Then he asked a chilling question, how does a fifteen year old child in Michigan in July die of hypothermia for at least nine months. He said Timothy had endured cruel, calculated punishments inflicted by his own mother and brother. He described Paul Ferguson, Shanda's son as the strong arm of the defendant, the one who did what she didn't want to do herself. He was on death's door. Jude malnutrition, Robert said. Surprisingly, the defense didn't dispute much of what
was said. Defense attorney Frederick Johnson admitted their actions were extreme, but insisted they were never meant to kill.
And what you're going to hear over and over again, over and over.
As you listen to these messages, is my client Frother van Haar and her old son, Paul Ferguson.
Idea that they were hurting this boy. They if you listen to those messages, they don't have a clue. And it's two of those, not just the one, not her and justin. At one point he sends it a picture. At another point she asked him, is he okay?
You think the chapeedi? And each time the other person reflects and they continue to go on.
They don't figure out that they're hurting him until he's dead.
But the text messages between John and Paul painted a different picture. Then Paul himself took to the stund testifying against his own mother. He said that food was restricted from Timothy within a month of him moving in.
He was.
Sneaking food that was not necessary at that time, and it was solved by placing locks on the fridge, freezer and pantry.
Who was saying he was sneaking food that wasn't necessary? Who would make that determination that it wasn't necessary, Shanda.
The and what type of food are we talking about that he would speak that wasn't necessary.
Sweets or anything he could really get his hands on.
So as early as February there was restriction that the locks were going on the freezer and the refrigerator. And you said there was also some type of lock on the pantry.
Is that right, yes, Sir.
Paul.
Then spoke boy Timothy's problems.
He was attention deficit hyperactive disorder as well as autistic. He had speech and motor impairments, speech and motor impairments, movement impairments.
Movement impairments.
Yes.
And at the time that he came to live with you, was he supposed to be taking some medication?
Yes? And did that did he stop taking his medication? Yes? Why did he stop taking his medication?
And could you please reiterate cool?
I guess the better way of saying it is who made the decision for in the set taking his meditation, Shanda.
Paul said that the only time Timothy was allowed to leave the house was to walk the dogs in the backyard. He couldn't be seen by any of the neighbors there. He testified that Shanda had made him chase Timothy up and down the stairs as punishment. He said Shanda ordered nearly all of the punishments, he just carried them out. There was only one order, he said that he refused. It was a message from Shanda that read, I wonder how it would feel to have that hot sauce on
your private parts. I'm not saying touch him there, not at all, but dripping a little bit there is that horrible? Paul said that was beyond cruel, as everything else was. He read a lot of message his mother sent shortly before Timothy died.
Crazy idea.
Ask Gabriel if he wants some pizza roles, and heat up a set of pizza roles and take one and offer it to Timothy.
And see what he does.
Put it right in front of his mouth, but be ready to yank it back if he tries to eat it.
That's her text to you bright, Yes, sir, And did you actually do that?
Yes, sir.
Paul likened his reluctance to save Timothy a Stockholm syndrome. He said, I desire to find a role model due to my low self esteem. I would do anything to make them proud of me. He suggested he might have autism, but admitted he was never diagnosed. Paul then told the court he never would have hurt Timothy if not for Shonda's instructions, and on the day that Timothy died, she had told him to put him in a bath of ice.
Okay, is there as you said there right now?
Do you love Do you love Timothy?
I suppose I didn't love him enough. That's why I'm trying to bring justice for him. Just a But can I say that I loved him during the time before his death?
Yes? Did you love him before his death?
With all the ways I act?
And I cannot?
Okay, let me ask you this. When did you start feeling this way while he was alive or after you found out that the way.
He was being treated killed him.
After so while the time he was alive, did you think you were killing him?
No?
Then Shanda took the stunt, but when Prosecutor Roberts began questioning her about the hundreds of incriminating text messages, she suddenly didn't seem to remember much. She constantly replied, I don't recall, or I don't know, again and again. She then spoke about all she got custody of Timothy.
My ex reached out to me, stating that Timothy was he could no longer handle him, that he was pushing his buttons, and that he needed to send him to live with me.
Okay, and you agreed to.
That, yes, sir?
Okay? Had you ever lived with Timothy for during his business when he was younger?
Yes? Okay?
All right, so you agreed to accept him into your home? Yes, sir?
She said she had ordered speciality Holt sauces online.
And what was it?
What was the point of the hot sauce?
Because we had tried multiple other discipline methods and he thought maybe that would get him to stop misbehaving.
Okay, he suggested it.
To me and I at that point I was so wrung out. I was willing to try just about anything.
All right.
Were you aware of how that this? Were you aware that this hot sauce was purchased online?
Yes, you know why it was purchase on lines that are going to Myer and picking up about hot sauce.
Well, I didn't go.
I didn't have time to go to the store. I mean our groceries were I did the grocery delivery through the Walmart app or through the Myer app. So and I didn't see anything.
They just had basic stuff.
And from our discussion we had talked about something and Timothy could handle this child when.
I got pregnant.
I know you're going hold on a second, okay, So I want to make sure we understand this. This this hot sauce has a particular label.
I've never seen it at Meyer. Did you did you see the label? Did you see the hot cloth itself? Did you what? Did you?
Did you order it?
I believe I ordered at least one of the models.
Yet, she told the jury she hadn't tried the sauces herself, explaining, I have a very weak stomach. I don't want to throw up. John then spoke a boy why it took her so long to call nine one one.
The call testimony. Why did it take you so long? He's at eighteen minutes out? Why did it take you so long?
And I have no idea how it was.
I was.
I'm trying to figure out how to describe it. It was surreal, like you're not even you don't even know what's going on. It was do you just time slowed down? And I didn't know what was going on.
When was the first time you fouled out? It took eighteen minutes to call the place?
Was it yesterday or the day before?
Yeah, it was within the last few days.
Okay, that's the first.
Time you remember?
Who was justifying when you found out?
It doesn't matter.
I think we discussed it at a meeting on Monday. Was it Monday?
I think so.
But and I heard fourteen minutes initially, and then the first time I heard eighteen minutes was when Paul said it yesterday.
She claimed that the fridge, freezer, and pondry were locked because Timothy had tried to eat frozen food and raw meat. Then the prosecutor showed photographs of Timothy taken just ours before he died. His body was skeletal, his ribs are visible beneath his sunken skin. Did he look like that when you put him in the bathtub? He asked. Shonda then began wretching and vomited in the courtroom, but Timothy's sister,
Millie wasn't convinced. She later said she didn't vomit the time she saw him before, but as soon as the cameras pointed at her, she'll do anything to make herself look like a decent person. The trial lasted just three days. In closing arguments to fans, attorney Johnson pleaded for understanding.
And it is. It is my.
Argument, The argument we'd make from the very beginning is that while she part of her new.
She was punishing this boy, none of her new that she was hurting. Yes, I understand, there's two possibilities.
Once she's she's exactly what mister Roberts saying.
That's evil, that's evil.
Or the other possibility is there's something going on and she doesn't understand.
She didn't understan despite all the intelligence.
She didn't understand the ultimate consequence of those individual acts of punishment.
The accumulated force and power and weight of those individual acts of punishment. She didn't understand it. She didn't see it. I don't know how that could be. But be honest with you, that's what makes sense.
It makes sense because this is her son.
But the prosecutor, pushed by hard Shonda wasn't some uninformed parent. She was a law clerk, she had passed the bar, she worked for a judge.
Nobody with the logic and reasoning skills that she has could not understand the consequences of what she was doing. I didn't intend for any of this to happen. We don't even we know if that's true. It's not, but we couldn't even say that that was true anyway. She can barely even say that because by her account she doesn't remember.
Doing any of these things. For all we know, she.
Did intend for all of these things to happen, which of course she did. I remember we talked about the cookbook. I voardir went over it a couple of times. Unless you hear a defense from the judge in these instructions that says, if you find that the defendant just doesn't remember these things, that she can be found not guilty. She doesn't get the benefit of that. Don't add to the cookbook, don't give her a defense that I just
don't remember doing these things. I hope on some level maybe she doesn't remember these things because they are so cold, they are so lowly, they are so dangerous that they took Timothy's life.
Strangely, Shonda was obsent for the closing arguments. Her defense attorney claimed that she was feeling unwell. The jury deliberated for less than an hour. They then returned with a unanimous verdict guilty of first degree fel any murderer and guilty of first degree child abuse. Chandvander Ark was immediately transferred to the Huron Valley Women's Correctional Facility. Sentencing would come later, but her conviction carried a mandatory sentence of
life in prison without the possibility of parole. Before schandevander Ark faced her sentencing, her son, Paul Ferguson, appeared in Chord and entered a guilty play the first degree child abuse. He sat silently as his attorney recounted the horrific acts he and his mother had inflicted on Timothy. When asked if it was true, Paul answered simply yes. Then on the twenty third of January two thousand and twenty four, Chander returned to Chord to be sentenced for the murder
of her son. The court room was filled with Timothy's siblings, there to share victim impact statements and confront the woman who had taken their little brother's life. His older brother, Nolan addressed the court and said, if I can't have my brother back, she shouldn't have her freedom back. He described the lasting guilt, the unbearable grief of not knowing what was happening behind closed doors.
I've had to leave my career behind.
My wife has to watch helplessly as I struggled day in and day out, wondering how none of us knew what was going on, Wondering if I told tim tim I loved him enough times for him to remember up until the very end. I have to wake up every day pretend that I am who I was before Timothy died. I have to pretend to be Nolan so that my friends and coworkers and family won't worry about me more
than they already do. I'm surrounded by people who love me and care about me, but not a single person besides my sisters, who understand how hard it is.
Timothy wasn't surrounded by people loved him when he died, and if I.
Had known that, nothing could have stopped me from rescuing him and holding him in my arms and telling him I love him, that his big brother's got just like I did the day.
He was born.
Then Timothy's sister, Millie stepped forward. Her voice shook because she spoke about regret.
I like to say I don't regret things in my life, that every mistake I've made has made me who I am today. But when Timothy died, I couldn't stop regretting. I regret not hugging him more and teasing him so much instead of telling him that I loved him every once in a while. I regret not putting aside my differences with Shanda and Paul just to check in on him. I regret not dancing with him the last time I saw him at our brother's wedding. These are the things
that I can't remady now. There's no fixing what's been done, no way to redo it all over again, and that's my regret.
Milly said. She wanted the world to know something important. Timothy was wanted, if not by her, then by me. He was loved by me, she said, Shanda should never again be afraid hurt another person. Throughout it all, Shanda refused to look at her children. Prosecutor Matt Roberts noted this lack of acknowledgment. All of the things that she did are so callous, so cold, they defy explanation. She had stopped thinking of her children as human beings. Timothy's father,
Eric wasn't in court. Shanda's attorney, Fred Johnson, gave one last offense. He described her as a single mother, overwhelmed trying to balance work in school. He stated, this is a survivor. We're not looking at evil, We're looking at sick. Then Shanda was given the opportunity to speak. Judge Matthew Castle addressed her directly. I've been trying now for this entire case to wrap my mind around how somebody could do something so horrific, not only to another human being,
but to their own child. He was blunt as he said, you intentionally and systematically tortured this child. Let's call it what it is, it's torture. He said he didn't believe Shanda set out to kill Timothy, but she had set out to hurt him over and over again. He said, This wasn't negligence, this wasn't ignorance. You knew exactly what you were doing. Then the judge said something that struck every one in the court room. He explained why he had chosen not to show the photos of Timothy's dead
body during the hearing. He didn't want Timothy to be remembered that way. Instead, he showed the court a photograph of Timothy's smiling He said, I'm choosing not to remember your son dead looking like a Holocaust victim. I'm choosing to remember him like this, a beautiful child with a lot of life in his eyes. That's who your son was, and you took that from him. Chandavander Ark was then sentenced to life in prison without the possibility of parole.
After her sentencing, the state moved to terminate her parental rights for her remaining child. She opposed the motion. She said she wanted the work on her mental health in prison and hoped to some day be a positive presence in her son's life. The judge didn't agree. He terminated her rights. Shandavander Ark would never again be allowed to contact her surviving son, not until he was legally an adult. He is now in the care of his paternal grandparents.
After his mother was sentenced to life in prison, Paul Ferguson was the next to learn his fate. He returned to court on the twenty sixth of February two thousand and twenty four to face sentencing for his role in the abuse and death of his little brother Timothy. This time, there were no victim impact statements read aloud in court. The room was quieter em there, but Paul's older brother Nolan had submitted a written statement to the judge, one
final play on behalf of a family torn apart. He wrote, I will not sugarcoat it and say that I am not deeply unhappy with Paul for not finding the courage to say something to anyone about what was happening in that home, but I have to take one mass stand for him. Nolan told the court that their mother, Shanda, had manipulated Paul, praying on his inability to stand up for himself and turning him into a tool to carry
out her twisted punishments. He described Paul as somebody who always struggled since childhood, someone who had always felt like an outsider, someone their parents never bothered to truly help. He wrote, I understand that the law says him, as a twenty year old young man culpable in my baby brother's abuse, but as his closest relative, I urge you to say that this is not the case. He asked
the court to consider alternatives to prison. He said there were people in the world who still cared about Paul, who wanted to help him rebuild a life, and when Paul was given the opportunity to speak, he broke down in tears and said, I asked the judge for nothing more than mercy and fairness, to offer me compassion so I might learn from him what reasons can justify my actions. I can make up a thousand and never believe one. What words can voice my regrets. I can think of
millions and yet never feel it's enough. If I could do it all again and do it right, I would. I feel I will pay for my choices, and yet never feel better because he's still gone. But Judge Matthew Castle wasn't moved. He said he didn't believe that Paul was truly sorry for what he had done. He said the court believes mister Ferguson is one step away from becoming a psychopath like his mother. In fact, the court believes he is just as bad, if not worse, than
his mother. He then sentenced twelve Ferguson to thirty two one one hundred years in prison. It went far beyond what the sentencing guidelines had suggested. Those had called for nine to fifteen years. As the court handed down the sentence, Paul began to watch in court, but it was final. The boy who had won Spain, his little brother Timothy was gone, and now so too was Paul's future. Well
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