An interview with Michelle Theer: 'A lovers' confrontation'
A. Well, I guess if you were anybody, and you just call and say, who's a really good attorney, anybody could find out.
Q. Did you recommend Brewer and Mitchell to the Diamonds?
A. No, uh-uh, now I might have told him you should get an attorney, but actually I might not have because, I don't know.
Q. I think you paid something like $1,500.
A. Well. . . I did save. . . a money order receipt for $500 to the sister [Deborah Dvorak, younger sister of Diamond]. . . I am not sure I remember why I sent that to her, except I did start calling her on the phone after John was arrested. We did start communicating fairly frequently.
Q. Why were you sending her money, to help him?
A. No, no, and I don't remember the specific reason, but I did start communicating with her on a regular basis, and I would say we became friends. . . The best I can remember what I sent it to her for was a loan. . .
I think that is why I sent her the money. . . .
Q. Did you ever practice black magic?
A. No, or white magic.
Q. Both Deborah Dvorak and Diamond's proffer said that you did practice black magic. Deborah told me you put a spell on the military prosecutor in the Diamond case. Where does that come from?
A. I don't know where the two of them cooked that up.
Q. Was your grandmother ever a high priestess, did you ever tell anybody that?
A. No, my family is from New Orleans. There is voodoo stuff in New Orleans. . . .
Q. You never practiced any kind of black magic or put spells on people? You are not going to put a spell on me?
A. No. Uh-uh. I used to have a little jar that said, Love Potion Number 9.
Q. On your license plate down in Florida, you had a license plate, Godd5ss?
A. Right.
Q. Isn't Goddess part of witchcraft?
A. No, that was actually part of my–remember I said I went through several religious phases. That was at the point where after I turned 16, I refused to go to church anymore because I was tired of the whole–we had gotten past the dark ages, and we were still going to church, like a Presbyterian, but we were at the hypocrite phase because we went to two different churches where the churches ended up splitting because of divisions in the church. . . . At that point, I decided that all Christians were hypocrites–say one thing, do another, that they were all backbiters and back stabbers. So, when I turned 16 and I got my driver's license, I told my mom I'm not going to church ever again. So then–I don't feel I was an atheist–but I was antireligious until I went to college and then I sort of opened my mind a little bit, and I went to, like, Christian Student Fellowship and tried to open my mind to that a little bit. And Marty and I were actually married by the pastor of Christian Student Fellowship at Greeley. . . . The first years when we were married, every now and then we would go to church. . . . This is when I got to college, and during the time that Marty and I were married. I was looking for a spiritual home. I felt something missing. But we'd go to a church, [and] if I felt even the tiniest whiff of cultism, or dark ages, or hypocrites, that was it–we were gone, and I wouldn't go back. So, when Marty died, I got angry with God. I mean that I had made mistakes, but, still, I was going to blame God. . . my mom and I spent a lot of time talking, and this is sort of when I entered my Goddess phase. Because I told my mom, I said, you know, why does God have to be a man? Who says the spirit has a penis? Why does he have to be a man? I'm tired of the angry father God. I want to know, what about, what about the father, what about the God Mother? I am looking for the mother. I am looking for the God that is going to be nurturing and is going to mother me. I am looking for the creative God, the nourishing God, that's what I want. So that's what I call–you could call my Goddess phase.
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