Polly was vice president, project manager and "den mother" of the Crooked Tree housing complex, a 43-bed former military dorm on the northeast edge of Lowry that had opened the previous March. Originally envisioned as a haven for wayward Native Americans, Crooked Tree's mission was soon expanded to provide affordable housing for single moms, recovering addicts, ex-cons and others. Polly, a 44-year-old lawyer and banker who was half Muskogee Creek, worked hard to create a stable home environment at the complex; although she didn't have to, she chose to live there herself.
She was killed between 1:30 and 2 p.m. on Christmas Day, her family estimates, as she prepared a dinner party for six women who lived at Crooked Tree. Her body was found the next day beside her bed, several feet from the telephone. Authorities later charged tenant Willie Safford, who has an extensive criminal history, with the murder; two weeks before she died, Polly had written letters to Crooked Tree administrators and to Safford's parole officer warning that he was "totally out of control."
"I'm afraid of his behavior toward me and the neighbors," Polly wrote. "He has warned me that he has a violent temper and was sent to prison for assault, and the only thing that protects me is my status as a female. Willie is only a single thread away from serious problems." Her friends said Polly had planned to evict him.
Safford denied killing Polly, telling authorities that he wasn't at Crooked Tree on Christmas Day and didn't learn of Polly's death until after he was arrested in Aurora on a burglary charge and the police told him. Since there were no witnesses to the crime and no weapon was ever found, authorities dropped the murder charge, saying they did not have enough evidence to take Safford to trial.
That decision devastated Lieurance and Shirley all over again, and they took it upon themselves to scour the streets for clues ("Silent Night," December 23, 1999). So far, though, their leads have gone nowhere, and although Denver police insist the investigation is continuing, the Sullivans are losing patience. So on Friday, weather permitting, they will charter an airplane to circle the State Capitol and Denver Police Department headquarters towing a banner that reads: "Two Years -- No Justice for Polly."
"The police don't seem to do anything until we try to come up with something," Lieurance says. "They say they check into it, but we don't know if they really do. They still don't have the case solved. Nothing is happening."
Which is why the couple is also working with Crimestoppers, Citizens Against Homicide and the Office of Victims Programs at the Colorado Division of Criminal Justice to introduce a program that advertises unsolved murders on public billboards. In Texas, these billboards feature a photograph of the victim, a sketch of the crime and information about possible rewards. Although the Victims Office has yet to pass the proposal along to Governor Bill Owens, Lieurance and Shirley are hoping that Polly's case -- which so far includes a $5,000 reward -- will be the first one featured in Colorado.
Until that comes to pass, however, they'll continue to gather clues and pass them along to detectives. Christmas was Polly's favorite holiday, they say. They cannot forget her -- and they don't want authorities to, either.
