‘The Case Died with Her’ but her story didn’t

Emilie Morris was a sophomore during my senior year at Lindbergh High School in St. Louis County. We were both the top runners on the cross country team in the fall of 1994, but only because my teammate broke his leg during a race.

“I knew he was hurt when Bones passed him,” is the joke I remember our coach telling at the time.

Being 105 pounds, naturally everybody called me Bones. Since then I’ve put on weight and couldn’t run 5,000 meters without stopping more than once.

Running into my old coach covering track meets as a reporter he still called me Bones and told his runners about the time he had me run all four distance races in one track meet. I couldn’t win any of them, but he knew I could finish with enough points to help the team win.

Emilie was a good runner. She qualified for the state meet and ran in college after graduating in the same class as my brother.

Emilie died in November 2014.

Four year later, as the #MeToo movement picked up steam, Emilie’s family told her story to a reporter at BuzzFeed News.

Before her death, Emilie had gotten her high school coach to admit on tape that he engaged in sexual activity when she was 16. He was charged with six counts of statutory sodomy.

But the case never went to trial because Emilie died before she could testify.

On December 6, the Oxygen network aired a special, "The Case Died with Her."

It has brought new attention to the case, the ways the system failed Emilie when she was younger and the manner in which she died.

It started when she was in high school, her family said, after there was a rumor of possible inappropriate behavior and school officials investigated.

This part stuck out to me from the BuzzFeed News story:

“(Her mother) recalled the way (the principal) phrased it: “‘Emilie has been accused of having an affair with a teacher.’”

Emilie did tell at least one teammate at the time and her family noted a change in her that, looking back now, they consider red flags. In college, her family says she struggled with depression, suicidal thoughts and severe bulimia.

In 2008, the coach was arrested and accused of inappropriate behavior by another student. Charges were never filed due to a lack of evidence.

At that time, Emilie was married with two children and happy, her family told the reporter. She didn’t tell her parents what had happened until 2013, after three years struggling with alcoholism. Her husband was granted sole custody of their children when they divorced the previous year.

A therapist encouraged Emilie to report the coach as a way to heal and she heard of an encounter that her friend’s daughter had with the coach that may have felt familiar.

Emilie went to police in June 2013.

After being arrested a month later, the coach was put on paid administrative leave from the school. But the charges were dropped following Emilie’s death 16 months later.

Emilie’s dad found her on the floor of her bedroom with a trash can over her head. The cause of death was determined to be asphyxiation.

In May 2015, the Lindbergh School District fired him after reviewing police files that were released at the time. He was, however, able to retain his license to teach.

Among the files, in the conversation taped by Emilie, the coach talks about the training videos that all staff are required to watch. “I’ve been there, but I didn’t do that,” he says of their relationship, adding that what happened wasn’t illegal in other places.

Earlier this week the coach spoke to a reporter at KMOV-TV by phone saying, “This has just been a living nightmare, they say no justice, well justice through the media is not justice. I did not get due process either, the reason I never settled is because I wanted due process on this, because I did not do what I was alleged to do.

“My part was not flattering,” he added. “I totally agree with that, but it was nothing close to what the allegations (claimed). I was the pursued, not the pursuer.”

Clearly the teacher training videos didn’t work.

I don’t want you to remember our coach — which is why I’ve omitted his name. He could be any coach out there teaching a daughter or a son how to be better at a sport, but also sending them down a path that will haunt them for years to come.

I will remember Emilie as a sophomore in high school. She was a strong runner who was funny and smart, with her whole life in front of her.