This feeling surfaced last week , when Campanella reflected on a released by the Colorado Office of the Attorney General showed 43 people died from domestic violence in 2018, a number that surged in comparison to 2017, which saw a total of 39 deaths. While Campanella said population growth likely was a factor in the rise, it still points to an issue.

“It¶¶Òőap 43 people too many,” Campanella said.

The Colorado Domestic Violence Fatality Review Board is comprised of experts from the field who work with victims. The board was created in 2017 by the Colorado General Assembly to analyze data and create state policy recommendations. To compile the report, the board worked with the Denver Metro Domestic Violence Fatality Review committee.

“We need to always figure out how to learn from tragedy,” said Attorney General Phil Weiser. “We need to go back and see what happened. What were the warning signs that were missed?”

Among those who died in 2018 were three victims from Weld County: Shanann Watts, 34, and her daughters, Celeste, 3, and Bella, 4. , Shanann Watts’ husband, was sentenced to life in prison in 2019 after he was convicted of their killings, which garnered national media attention. Denver had the highest number of domestic violence deaths, with eight women killed.

Several statistics in the report showed consistencies in the 2018 cases. Nearly 73% of the perpetrators had a history of domestic violence and about 80% had a history of drug and alcohol abuse. Twenty-seven of the victims died from gunshot wounds, which was listed as the most common cause of death and was nearly four times the number of people who were fatally stabbed.

When people have access to firearms in a violent relationship, the probability of a lethal situation increases, Campanella said. She said state laws on firearm violence need to be created and enforced with more accountability. In January, Gov. Jared Polis approved the so-called red flag law, giving judges the power to temporarily take guns from people who may harm themselves or others. Campanella said the law is “too new” to have had any real impact yet and that more still needs to be done.

She said one example is during bond hearings, when suspects stand before a judge, they are asked if they have access to firearms.

“They say ‘yes’ or ‘no,’” she said. “If they say ‘no,’ and there’s no one to rebut that statement, it¶¶Òőap written down that they don’t have any firearms to surrender.”

Weiser said he believes the report also shows a need for more regulations to keep guns out of the hands of violent offenders.

“When you have a protective order, (there) needs to (be a way to) make sure those firearms are actually turned over and aren’t used to hurt somebody,” Weiser said. “That¶¶Òőap something that I’m concerned about.”

For victims of domestic violence, leaving relationships is one of the most dangerous times. Campanella said this is because many offenders may act on the sense that they have lost power in the situation. The report illustrated this, showing that 90% of perpetrators experienced feelings of abandonment and betrayal.

“(The biggest risk is) as she is physically in the act of leaving, pulling away from the curb, kids in the car, suitcases packed,” Campanella said. “And then for those first 90 to 180 days. That really is about the abuser knowing that they can’t control that person anymore.”

While Campanella believes awareness about domestic violence is increasing, the report was among the indicators that more resources are needed so victims can safely leave a violent relationship. She said some of the biggest obstacles for those seeking to leave abusive relationships are access to legal representation to assist with divorce and child custody hearings, as well as the resources to find financial stability and housing.

“It¶¶Òőap the same dilemma we’ve discussed before,” Campanella said. “Where do they go? What do they do? At the end of the day, I don’t know if public spending for resources for victims when they want to leave has actually increased.”

Weiser echoed this.

“We need to be aware of how many victims feel alone and unable to share their concerns,” Weiser said. “Creating more support needs to be priority.”

More domestic violence resources:

• Boulder — 24-hour crisis hotline: 303-444-242424-hour crisis email: hotline@safehousealliance.orgBoulder outreach: 303-449-8623
• Longmont — 24-hour crisis line: 303-772-4422Office: 303-772-0432

A judge ordered last week that Watts pay the $6 million to Frank and Sandy Rzucek, marking the end of the civil case. The couple filed the lawsuit last year on the same day that Watts pleaded guilty to killing his family, including two daughters, 4-year-old Bella and 3-year-old Celeste, and dumping the three bodies on a Weld County oil site.

The figure includes $1 million for each of the deaths and $3 million for emotional pain. The amount owed will grow at an 8 percent annual interest rate.

“The Rzucek family has not been the same since August 13, 2018,” a court document states. “They have suffered with anger, loneliness, sadness, and depression. For a substantial period of time following the discovery of their daughter and grandchildren’s murders, they were unable to work, leave the house, or even eat.”

The Rzuceks declined to comment on the finding through their Greeley attorney, Steven Lambert. The attorney previously said the family filed the lawsuit to collect any money Watts might have and to keep him from profiting from the murders should he ever decide to write a book or sell the rights to his story. Watts is serving a life sentence in the Dodge Correctional Institution in Wisconsin.

Watts never fought the civil lawsuit and on Nov. 5 agreed to the $6 million finding.

“The Defendant stipulates that the death of Shanann, Bella, and Celeste was a tremendous loss to Plaintiffs Franklin Rzucek and Sandra Rzucek and that they have suffered extreme emotional stress and damage as a result of such loss,” states the court document in which Watts agreed to the payment.

Court filings in the civil case also show the devastation, trauma and long-term harassment the Rzuceks have suffered because of the murders. Frank Rzucek had not been able to return to work as of Aug. 1 and had been diagnosed with post-traumatic stress disorder.

“As Sandy Rzucek puts it, she feels like she dies every day and is always missing and crying for her precious family,” an Aug. 1 court filing states. “Even to this day, it is hard for the Rzucek family to get out of bed, they cry all the time, every day and every night.”

The family suffered through court hearings in the same room as the man who killed their loved ones and faced a “constant barrage of media.” They also had to contend with the allegation Watts made in his first confession that Shanann killed their two little girls, though he later admitted in a February interview with law enforcement to killing his daughters.

The horrendously detailed February confession cleared Shanann’s name, but it also showed the pure brutality of Watts’s actions.

“Sandy Rzucek has described the experience of losing her daughter and granddaughters as being adrift in a lifeboat, surrounded by water and without a port in sight,” the document states. “The detailed discovering of how Defendant ended his wife and children’s lives was, in Sandy’s words, like having the lifeboat removed and sinking into the ocean.”

The family also endured attacks and death threats from people online who peddled conspiracy theories that Shanann was at fault for the killings. Those threats made the Rzuceks mostly homebound, though they venture to their family members’ graves to make sure they haven’t been vandalized.

“Between Defendant and the people attacking the Rzucek family, they have lost nearly all trust in people and humanity,” the court filing states.

That¶¶Òőap according to the Oxygen network, which is touting its Dec. 7 season premiere as the first time that lead investigators at the Colorado Bureau of Investigation have spoken publicly about the case of convicted murderer Chris Watts.

As The Denver Post has reported, a steady stream of documentaries and television shows have continued to examine the 2018 murders that rocked the small town of Frederick, about 30 miles north of Denver. Chris Watts was convicted after confessing to the murder of Shanann Watts and her two young daughters.

“Viewers will hear first-hand accounts on how (investigators) worked tirelessly to secure the ultimate confession putting Watts behind bars,” according to a press release.

The 90-minute show will air at 6 p.m. on Saturday, Dec. 7 on Oxygen.

“For the past two seasons, we have given viewers an inside look into the investigation of criminals, with an emphasis on the psychological component of confessions,” said Wolf, the creator of the “Law and Order” franchise. “Our third season will be even better, and will continue to give crime buffs insight into a side of police work that has never been examined before.”

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The house at 2825 Saratoga Trail will be auctioned Jan. 8, for failure to pay principal and interest. The continuation marks the third since the original April 17 auction date, which was moved to Sept. 18, then Oct. 23 and finally, next year.

On Nov. 6, Christopher Watts pleaded guilty to five counts of first-degree murder, three counts of tampering with a corpse and unlawful termination of a pregnancy in connection with the August 2018 deaths of his pregnant wife, Shanann, 34, and their daughters, Bella, 4, and Celeste, 3. On Nov. 19, he was for their deaths.

Online records show the home was purchased in 2013. The Weld County filing also indicates that Christopher Watts owes $349,938.09 on the five-bedroom, four-bath home.

Public Trustee Susie Velasquez said she couldn’t speak to why the auction date had been continued, emphasizing that the decision is up to the law firm, McCarthy & Holthus, LLP, which represents the lender JPMorgan Chase Bank, N.A.

When asked about the reason for the delay, David Owen, chief administrative officer for Mcarthy & Holthus LLP, said the company was “not at liberty to discuss pending litigation.” JPMorgan Chase Bank, N.A. did not respond to requests for comment.

that he killed his wife and smothered his daughters. Shanann Watts was buried in a shallow grave and the bodies of Celeste and Bella were dumped in oil tanks on an Anadarko Petroleum Co. site near Roggen. Chris Watts had worked for the oil company before his arrest.

Autopsy reports showed that Shanann Watts and her daughters died of asphyxiation.

Since the tragedy, the home, located in the Wyndham Hill neighborhood has sat vacant. Neighbors and people across the state brought stuffed animals and flowers to the home to pay tribute to Shanann Watts and Bella and Celeste.

A bidding amount will be announced two days prior to the sale date in January, according to Velasquez.

Christopher Watts is serving his life sentence in a Wisconsin prison.

The movie, slated to debut in 2020, will dramatize the horrific murders of the young mother, 3-year-old Celeste and 4-year-old Bella by their husband and father, Christopher Watts. The creators of the television movie somehow hope to piece together Watts’s “mysterious motives,” which the local, state and federal authorities who worked the case for months were not able to definitely pin down.

Actors will portray the couple and Colorado Bureau of Investigation Agent Tammy Lee, according to a news release Wednesday from A+E Networks.

The announcement comes shortly after the year anniversary of the killings, which exacted a deep psychological toll on those who investigated. Shanann’s parents are still reeling from the grief of losing their daughter and granddaughters. Her father traveled to Colorado earlier this month and asked online harassers to leave the family alone.

A year after the murders of Shanann Watts and her two young daughters, the Weld County District Attorney’s Office continues to receive dozens of emails and messages every week about the case from curious people across the globe.

Along with the continued inquiries, a steady stream of documentaries and television shows have devoted time to the murders that rocked the small town of Frederick. The community is still grappling with the impact of the killings.

“Almost one year ago, tragedy struck the Town of Frederick placing our peaceful community in the national spotlight,” a town spokeswoman said in a statement emailed to The Denver Post. “Our resilient and close-knit community, town staff and police department continue to mourn the loss of Shanann Watts and her children.”

The case began Aug. 13, 2018, when a friend of Shanann called Frederick police to report the mother and her two daughters missing. Frederick police quickly responded to the home to investigate, where they met Christopher Watts, Shannan’s husband and the father of 3-year-old Celeste and 4-year-old Bella.

Watts repeatedly said he did not know where his family had gone. But the facts didn’t make sense to the investigators: Why would Shanann leave her phone at home? And why hadn’t anybody heard from her?

Investigators invited Watts for an interview after talking with family and friends. After failing a polygraph test, Watts confessed to killing Shanann, who was pregnant, in the early hours of Aug. 13. He also lied and said that he killed her after watching her kill their daughters. He told investigators where to find the bodies of his family.

Within a few days of the missing persons report, the case attracted international media attention.

The ensuing court case lasted less than two months. Before even his arraignment, Watts pleaded guilty to the crimes on Nov. 6 as part of a deal with prosecutors to escape the death penalty. Two weeks later, he received three consecutive life sentences.

After a brief stint at the Denver Reception and Diagnostic Center, the Colorado Department of Corrections transferred Watts to a prison in Wisconsin. Watts later told investigators that he feared for his life in the Weld County jail, where other inmates threatened him.

In February, investigators interviewed Watts at the Wisconsin prison to learn more about what actually happened the day of the crime. Watts confessed to killing his daughters along with his wife. The details haunted investigators. And while the interview finally explained how the crimes were committed, it did not give a reason why.

Even though the court case is over, public interest remains high. The case has since resurfaced in other conversations, including at the legislature this year as state lawmakers considered repealing the death penalty.

Besides an appearance on Dr. Phil, Shanann’s family has remained private. Her father, Frank Rzucek, gave a statement in July to local television stations asking that online harassment of his family stop.

The Rzuceks’ wrongful death lawsuit against Watts remains ongoing in Weld County District Court. Watts did not respond to the suit and the court in May found him in default, which means that the Rzuceks will likely win.

Good morning, Colorado!

Welcome back to Checkup Denver. We have tons of health news for you, so let’s jump in.

But before we do: If you or someone you know are having thoughts of suicide, call the Colorado Crisis Line at 1-844-493-8255.

Mental health and mass shootings

Mental health is once again in the spotlight after the recent mass shootings in Ohio and Texas, with President Donald Trump saying last week that such events are “a mental problem.”

Such comments about mental health struck a nerve with those living with such illnesses, who say the discussion further stigmatizes them and moves the conversation away from topics such as guns and racism. Medical experts agree.

More than 30 people were killed and dozens more injured in the separate shootings in Dayton, Ohio, and El Paso, Texas. The shooting at a Walmart in El Paso is being investigated by federal authorities as a hate-motivated domestic-terror case after a racist, anti-immigrant manifesto was posted online by the suspect.

Read more here.

Health must-reads

• DEVELOPING: Two reviews have determined that a Metro State University office does not contain carcinogens that would cause employees to become ill. The reviews were conducted after four employees working in the office were diagnosed with cancer.
• Colorado has received federal approval for its reinsurance program, which the state Division of Insurance says will lower premiums on the health exchange next year. 
• Students and parents sent 19,861 tips to Safe2Tell during the 2018-19 school year, making it another record for the school safety hotline.
• The risk of a person getting West Nile virus has increased after health officials detected the virus in mosquitoes in Weld County.
• Prairie dogs infected with plague temporarily closed open space near Denver International Airport.

“This changed all of us”

As the anniversary of the Watts murders approaches, detectives who investigated the case still struggle with the trauma from finding the bodies of the two girls and their pregnant mother.

Shanann Watts and her daughters Bella and Celeste were killed last year in a case that drew national attention. Watts’ husband, the father of the two girls, confessed to the killings and received multiple life sentences.

My colleague Elise Schmelzer reports that those who investigated the murders struggle with nightmares and images of the well site where the girls’ bodies were found, leading to discussions about mental health at law enforcement agencies.

“This is not an issue that is new,” said Shannon Scully, manager of criminal justice and advocacy at the National Alliance on Mental Illness. “But this is an issue that we can’t ignore anymore.”

Read more here.

Here’s what I’m reading

• A man becomes a real doctor 20 years after — Los Angeles Times
• Some Canadians are  to the U.S. — Stat News
• Surgeons at an El Paso medical center in the mass shooting in El Paso.  — The New York Times
• Americans seeking lower-cost health care — The New York Times
• A couple who officials believe — Buzzfeed News

Have a story tip or other feedback? Email me at jseaman@denverpost.com. You can also follow me on Twitter at   And don’t forget to become a  to The Post!

See you in two weeks!

Jessica

Even hundreds of miles away in Phoenix, he couldn’t escape reminders of the case he was trying to move past.

At the sight of the girls, he once again was at the Weld County oil site where eight months ago he had recovered the bodies of Bella and Celeste Watts. In movie-like detail, he saw the hazmat crew pull their bodies from the oil storage tanks where they had been dumped by their father. He smelled the oil that coated them. He saw their mother’s shallow grave nearby.

The trip was supposed to be a chance for him to clear his head after leading the investigation into the murders of the girls and their pregnant mother, Shanann Watts. The killer, father and husband to the victims, had already confessed and received multiple life sentences. Baumhover’s work was done.

But as he bolted from the restaurant to the parking lot to escape the flashback — rage, grief and anxiety flooding his body — he knew it would take more than a trip to heal the post-traumatic stress disorder he was diagnosed with after the case. He knew he would need time before he could see little girls without being triggered.

“It¶¶Òőap like when you’re a kid and you go on the wrong carnival ride and all you want to do is get off,” he said. “But you can’t. You have no choice until the ride shuts off.”

A year after the high-profile murders shocked Colorado and drew international attention to the small Weld County town, some of those who investigated the case still are grappling with its impact. They suffer nightmares about oil wells or are haunted by a lasting memory of the girls’ giggles. Veteran law enforcement officers can’t shake images of the well site where their bodies were recovered. Intense public and media interest in the case continues, making it difficult for investigators to heal.

The killings prompted difficult discussions about mental health at the Colorado organizations involved in the case as agencies across the nation are grappling with the mental wellness of their staffs. For the first time, the federal government is studying exactly how prevalent mental health issues are within law enforcement and is searching for best practices in a career where seeking help has long been stigmatized.

“This is not an issue that is new,” said Shannon Scully, manager of criminal justice and advocacy at the National Alliance on Mental Illness. “But this is an issue that we can’t ignore anymore.”

For Baumhover, however, the change didn’t come soon enough. The 52-year-old hasn’t worked since his PTSD diagnosis in March because his symptoms are so severe. He’s not sure whether he will be able to return to law enforcement, a career that once drew him like a magnet. He doesn’t think he can expose himself again to the inherent trauma of the job.

“I have a hard time dealing with the probability that my career is ended, and not the way that I wanted it to,” he said. “Some days you feel defeated.”

Unavoidable memories

Baumhover’s flashbacks started soon after returning from Wisconsin, where he interviewed Christopher Watts in prison and learned the exact horrific manner of how he murdered his wife and children.

During the prison interview, Watts revealed how he killed Shanann and put her body on the floor in the back seat of his truck. How he then put the girls in the back seat, their feet dangling above their pregnant mother’s body during the entire ride to the rural oil site. He explained how he smothered the girls individually, how 4-year-old Bella had to watch her little sister die.

Baumhover went to Wisconsin because he needed to know what happened. He thought knowing would give him closure.

And it did, he said, but the answers came at a price.

The night after the confession, Baumhover lay on his hotel room bed. Anxious calls and texts from his wife lit up his phone. But Baumhover couldn’t answer. He couldn’t think. He couldn’t understand how such horror was possible and how Watts could coldly detail it step by step. It seemed surreal.

His first morning back at home in Frederick, Baumhover broke down sobbing at his kitchen table. He didn’t know how he was going to tell Shanann’s parents. He knew it would destroy them. It was the first time his wife, Lori, had seen him cry.

He tried to go back to work, but the flashbacks worsened. He stopped sleeping. Gaps started to form in his memory. He couldn’t remember names or control his emotions. After his diagnosis in March, he entered counseling. After taking some sick time, he registered with worker’s compensation.

Baumhover has worked in Colorado law enforcement for the bulk of the past 20 years in a variety of roles. A few times he stepped away from policing to work in the private sector for better pay and at the request of family members who worried about him. But he always came back.

“It was just a calling,” he said. “Just a nagging. It kept pulling me in.”

After a few years away from the profession, Baumhover joined the Frederick Police Department full time in 2011 in search of a more low-key police job in a smaller community. He shortly after was promoted to the agency’s lone detective position. He loved the job, despite the long hours.

But police work comes at a cost. It wasn’t just the Watts case that caused his PTSD, Baumhover said. It was the accumulation of the difficult cases he’s worked in his career — a rash of teen suicides in Frederick, a toddler who shot himself in the face, horrific sexual assault causes. He never processed that trauma correctly.

“Looking back now, I should have gone and talked to someone after every single one of those bad ones,” he said.

Every bit of Baumhover family life has been reshaped by PTSD. It¶¶Òőap hard to leave the house, Lori said.

“Where do you go where you don’t see little girls?” she asked.

It¶¶Òőap dangerous to watch television or go online. If they go out, Lori directs her husband where he shouldn’t look so he can avoid seeing kids that might trigger him. Don’t look down that aisle, there’s a family, she’ll say. Don’t look right. Look up.

“I feel like if I don’t catch a little girl, like if I miss one, that I failed him,” she said, her voice cracking.

“It¶¶Òőap easier to just not go anywhere,” he said.

“You can’t get away from it”

Lasting trauma from the case was not limited to Baumhover.

Two days after witnessing the recovery of the bodies, Colorado Bureau of Investigation agent Tammy Lee suddenly broke down at a Denver hair salon while spending time with her mom and sister. A veteran investigator, she had handled scores of gruesome cases. She expected she would take this one in stride as well.

Instead, she sobbed at the hair salon as her helpless mother and sister looked on. She couldn’t stop, and she went to sit in the car. She called the number for a counselor that she had been given and said she didn’t understand what was happening.

“He said, ‘It was too much, too ugly, for too long,’ ” she said. “And I said, ‘I know.’ ”

She scheduled a therapy appointment for 8 a.m. the following Monday. In the meantime, the counselor asked her to start writing down what would trigger her crying. She listed the incidents — mostly seeing moms with their kids. It would make her think of how Shanann would never get to have those small moments with her daughters again. That Shanann would never get to go to lunch with them again, or buy them a new outfit.

The endless videos and photos of the girls that Shanann posted online, which Lee reviewed during the investigation, created a vivid mental image of the sisters. She kept thinking of the video of the girls when Shanann told them that she was pregnant — how the girls laughed and jumped up and down at the news, pulling their mom into a long hug.

“I felt like I knew them,” Lee said. “I’ve been to many homicides of children. This one was different. I felt like I knew what they sounded like. I knew what they looked like when they played and how they sounded when they giggled. I felt like I was mourning their deaths.”

Weld County District Attorney Michael Rourke still has frequent nightmares about oil tanks. In his natural resource-rich county, he is bombarded by memories every time he sees a tank.

“I see those little girls. Their faces. And their names,” he said. “And then every time I think about them the next thought in my mind is about my own daughter.”

During the investigation and court proceedings, he would immerse himself all day in the gruesome facts of the case. Then he’d go home and see his stepdaughter, who is about the same age as the dead girls, dancing and playing. He’d think of Celeste and Bella.

“In a way, I think I became more hardened to what people can do to each other,” the veteran prosecutor said.

Through counseling, Lee said she was able to process her grief. She attended the interview with Christopher Watts in Wisconsin, where his full confession helped her find some closure, she said.

Still, the continued public and media interest in the case makes it difficult to move on, investigators said. The Colorado Bureau of Investigation still regularly receives emails, social media messages and calls about the case. The district attorney’s office has been contacted by people from as far away as the United Kingdom and Japan who want information. Television stations continue to create documentaries.

“You can’t get away from it,” Lee said.

Hope for change

For many of the agencies involved, the case prompted frank conversations about mental health.

The Colorado Bureau of Investigation was already in the process of creating a peer support program, but the case accelerated the process, director John Camper said. He knew that his staff would need extra support after he was texted images from the oil site where the bodies were recovered. He called a counseling service immediately.

“I mean, it affected me deeply and I wasn’t on scene,” he said. “I wasn’t even there. It took me a month to get those images out of my mind.”

At the Weld County District Attorney’s Office, Rourke tried to foster a healthy environment by checking in personally with his staff. He brought in therapists from North Range Behavioral Health to help his staff.

“This changed all of us,” he said.

Prosecutors have lagged behind law enforcement in addressing the effect their cases have on their health, Rourke said.

“The case caused me to be much more cognizant of what it is that we do and the impact that it has on the people who work in this office,” he said.

John Nicoletti, a Denver psychologist who specializes in treating public safety professionals, said he has seen a seismic shift in the conversation surrounding mental health in law enforcement over his 40-year career.

When he started in 1975, officers were hesitant to come for treatment because of a prevailing stigma that seeking help was a weakness or because they feared their problems wouldn’t be kept confidential, he said. That has shifted as agencies and their leaders have recognized the importance of cultural change that encourages them to seek help.

Colorado agencies have made professional counseling easily accessible for their staff, created peer support programs and, in some cases, made counseling mandatory after certain types of traumatic events, Nicoletti said.

“We’re fortunate in Colorado that departments are doing a good job in this,” he said.

State legislators have also addressed the issue. During the 2019 session, lawmakers expanded access to the Peace Officer Mental Health Grant, which was created in 2017 and pays for counseling services at local agencies. Also in 2017, the legislature added PTSD as a diagnosis that qualifies a person for workers’ compensation, allowing people like Baumhover to access the program.

The changes are part of a nationwide culture change that is working to mitigate harm in a profession where suicide is four times higher than the national average, said Scully of the National Alliance on Mental Illness. At least 167 officers died by suicide in 2018. Those who died had an average age of 42, , which tracks the deaths.

recommended 22 changes that should be made to improve mental health wellness among law enforcement, including that agencies embed mental health professionals, create programs that support officers’ families and implementing regular mental health wellness checks. The report also recommended the creation of a nationwide study of law enforcement suicides and the circumstances surrounding them.

The Watts case was so traumatic for law enforcement and the general public, in part, because it was simultaneously unlike so many other cases and also too familiar, said Nicoletti, who worked with some who investigated the case.

The killings didn’t make sense to people, he said. There were few of the hallmarks of other murders because there didn’t seem to be any signs of violence before the killings. The Watts family also seemed so normal, he said. Many people could see themselves in the family.

“Those things linger,” Nicoletti said.

Baumhover said he’s not sure what he will do if he decides not to resume police work, but he’s considering using his experience to talk with other law enforcement about the importance of mental wellness. Cops need to hear from other cops, he said. Lori already has started compiling resources that are available to officers. She wants to make sure all departments know what is available so that other families can avoid the hell they’ve been through.

“I’ve always felt that there’s a bigger purpose to this,” Baumhover said.

In the meantime, Baumhover can’t wait for summer to end, for the neighborhood kids to go back to school, so he can look out at the playground visible from his back porch or walk the dog and not worry about running into children that trigger his flashbacks.

“It’ll be a big victory when we can get to just having joy in watching little kids play,” Lori said.

There, he buried his wife in a shallow grave and then killed his daughters with his bare hands before dumping their bodies in an oil tank.

Here is how the murder investigation, which attracted international attention, unfolded.

Aug. 13, 2018 — Christopher Watts kills his wife, 34-year-old Shanann Watts, in their suburban Frederick home. He drives her body to a Weld County oil site, along with the couple’s children, 3-year-old Celeste and 4-year-old Bella. He kills the children at the site, operated by Anadarko, and conceals the bodies of all three.

That afternoon, a friend of Shanann reports the mother and children missing to Frederick police after Shanann doesn’t respond to texts and calls. A search ensues.

Aug. 14 — The Colorado Bureau of Investigation activates an Endangered Missing Alert when Shanann and the girls still remain missing. That day, Watts in an interview with Denver7 News.

Aug. 15 — Watts confesses to killing Shannan after failing a polygraph test at the Frederick Police Department. He did not confess to killing his daughters and instead lied to police, saying that his wife killed the girls. Investigators arrested Watts immediately after the interview.

Aug. 16 — Investigators recover the bodies of Shanann, Bella and Celeste from the Weld County oil site. Watts worked at the site as an operator for Anadarko.

Nichol Kessinger, who had been dating Watts since June, tells police in an interview that she thinks the family’s troubled finances were the biggest factor in Watts killing his wife and children. Later that day, Watts appears in Weld County District Court for a bond hearing.

Aug. 21 — Watts appears in court, where he learned of the charges filed against him.

Sept. 1 — Shannan, Bella and Celeste are buried in Pinehurst, North Carolina. Shannan’s family described her as an ambitious, outgoing woman who always wanted to be a mother.

Nov. 6 — In an unexpected move, Watts pleads guilty to all nine charges in the case as part of a deal to avoid the death penalty.

Nov. 19 — Watts receives three consecutive life sentences in the murders, which the judge called the “most inhumane and vicious” he had ever handled. Prosecutors revealed new details at the hearing, including how Bella fought back as she was smothered. Watts’ motive remained unclear.

The same day, Shanann’s parents filed a wrongful death lawsuit against their former son-in-law.

December — Watts is moved to a Wisconsin prison due to safety concerns.

Feb. 18, 2019 — In a follow-up interview with Colorado law enforcement, Watts confesses for the first time to killing his daughters. He offers a detailed explanation of how he killed his family, but still little explanation as to why he did it.

July 22 — Shanann’s father, Frank Rzucek, returns to Colorado to plead for online bullies to stop harassing his family.

Unfortunately, people monstrous enough to troll a grieving family are unlikely to repent after such a plea. If anything, the trolls may find gratification in a father’s visible anguish. Stopping online harassment is no easy task for a variety of reasons.

Social media provides new opportunities for sadistic people to victimize people. A pair of studies found Internet trolls share four common traits; they are sadistic, manipulative, psychopathic and narcissistic. “Of all personality measures, sadism showed the most robust associations with trolling
 Thus cyber-trolling appears to be an Internet manifestation of everyday sadism,” the studies conclude.

Social media also amplifies the cruelty of sadists whose malevolence in simpler times would have been limited to a more immediate circle of victims.

Online platforms also trigger disinhibition causing people to act with greater intensity and frequency online than in person. The anonymity, invisibility, and diminished presence of authority bring out the bully in some people who would otherwise act decently. Like the nice guy who becomes a mean drunk, the social media loosens what should remain restrained.

Sadly, trolling behavior can have a snowball effect. A recent study found that if an ordinary person is in a bad mood and is exposed to nasty posts, he may join in the fray. Social media can be like the island in William Golding’s Lord of the Flies. Take away law, order, and shame, add fear, the desire for power, and tribal solidarity, and even choir boys will descend into savagery.

Stopping this descent continues to bedevil media companies. In a perfect world, people who troll victims of violence and their families would experience dental work sans anesthesia. In an imperfect world, social media giants are trying to create a platform for free expression without empowering trolls, Russian propaganda and conspiracy-theory mongering. The results have been mixed.

Part of this can be attributed to the sheer amount of internet content posted to major social media. There are over 2.4 billion monthly active users on Facebook. In the United States, 68 percent of Americans use Facebook. Only YouTube boasts a larger percentage (73 percent). Facebook has some 35,000 employees. In the first quarter of 2018, they removed 3.5 million pieces of violent content, 2.5 million pieces of hate speech, and 21 million pieces of adult nudity and sexual activity. Given the large volume of content processed daily, it¶¶Òőap not surprising that Facebook algorithms fail to flag offensive content or flag and remove harmless content. In the past year, Facebook dismissed my complaint against a nasty post on my public Facebook page but deleted my weather-related posts about Colorado’s bomb cyclone.

People are beginning to question whether methods to patrol social media may be biased. Last year Facebook had to apologize for removing video content by mainstream conservative Dennis Prager. The Heritage Foundation’s Daily Signal also received an apology from Facebook. The media giant had deleted a video of a doctor warning about the dangers of giving children puberty blockers. Facebook restored the video after public outcry. Recently Pinterest banned an influential pro-life organization, Live Action. And, Reddit changed their algorithms to restrict a Donald Trump fan online community. Were these isolated incidents or a growing trend, mistakes or calculated actions?

Given their market dominance, could efforts to control social media result in silenced voices and the quashing of debate? How can social media better draw a line between truly offensive posts and information about controversial subjects that some people find offensive? Should they draw a line at all?

If more people deleted nasty posts and muted, unfriended, and blocked trolls, we could marginalize a vicious minority while keeping this valuable marketplace of ideas free.

Krista Kafer is a weekly Denver Post columnist. Follow her on Twitter: @kristakafer

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