Serial Killer Ted Bundy’s Mom Dies Loving Her Son to the Very End

What must it be like to give birth to an adorable baby boy who grows up to be a handsome, athletic, intelligent, charming -- serial killer? Unfortunately for a woman named Louise Bundy, mother of the notorious serial killer Ted Bundy, she knew what this felt like. Or did she? For Louise staunchly defended her son and called him her "precious boy" right up until the day he was executed. She has died at 88 years old. And I cannot imagine what her life must have been like.


Louise had four other children -- none of whom were problematic. But for whatever reason, Ted was. The good-looking Ted was found guilty of killing two sorority college students and a 12-year-old girl. But he went on to confess to more than two dozen women. 

Ted had it all -- looks, brains, charm, and a mother who loved him. But he decided to put all of that to use by stalking and killing young women. Like I imagine most mothers would, at the beginning, Louise refused to believe it. In fact, she was in denial for years -- pretty much right up until Ted confessed. But even then she spoke to him twice by phone on his day of execution, and told him she would always love him.

I see nothing wrong with a mother's love. It's not like she ever knew what he was doing while he was doing it and she didn't call police. If she that, it would be a different story. But how is a mother supposed to carry on knowing a man she brought into the world took so many others out of it because of some sick compulsion? The only way to live must have been for her to remember the baby and child she once knew.

Even though she claimed her son was innocent and said, "Ted Bundy does not go around killing women and little children!" a part of her must have wondered. And a part of her must have wondered -- did she do something wrong? A part of her must have been tortured.

It must be one of the most devastating things in the world to have a child commit such violent and heinous acts -- the same child you gave birth to. The same child you diapered, and played with, and stayed up all night with -- whom you protected and loved and cherished. Knowing -- or even suspecting -- that he devastated other parents beyond repair.

Would you still love your child if he was a serial killer?


Image via Wikipedia Commons 

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