Annette Cahill
Let us tell you a little story about witchcraft
October 1992
A small town in Iowa is startled by the murder of Corey Wieneke. The police dive into this case, trying to uncover the culprit behind his death. But it wasn't easy... and eventually the case went cold.
December 2017
After 25 years, a woman comes forward with an interesting tale she recalled from when she was 9. "She was lighting black candles and apologizing to Corey...". These are the words of Jessica Becker. These are the words that were used to convict Annette Cahill.
September 2019
Annette was found guilty of a murder that she had been cleared of 27 years ago...
For 25 years...Annette lived her life. But that narrative gets lost in the thrill of witchcraft.
YEAR 1
THIS PLACE IS WHERE ANNETTE CALLED HOME AFTER SHE RESTARTED HER LIFE. A SMALL LITTLE TOWN IN THE HEART OF EASTERN IOWA, WHERE SHE ENJOYED A QUIET LIFE WITH HER HUSBAND
"I'M NOT SOME MONSTER, YA KNOW?"
She is a mother. A grandmother. A wife. But most importantly she's human.
Annette grew up in a small town, so she was no stranger to everyone knowing everyone. She had her siblings and her parents throughout her modest upbringing to guide her through all the woes of life.
YEAR 5
There are many moments in Annette’s life that looks back upon very fondly but one that always comes to mind is Bill, her husband.
Bill
Always the hopeless romantic he fondly remembers the first time he ever met Annette. She had gone to the gas station with her children and all he could think about was how beautiful she was. However, Annette has no memory of this meeting and instead she gushed about the “first” time she saw him at a bar in 1993.
Instantly swept off her feet, she fell hard for him.
7 months later… the pair married.
AND THE REST IS HISTORY
Year 10
“I was fun.”
“I miss my sewing room…it’s sad to miss the material things but I do. I probably had 10 sewing machines…”
It’s not the missing of the material things. It’s missing the purpose they served that’s the hardest. Each sewing machine held a memory of the grand babies she had spent time sewing their names into their custom blanket. It’s the exhilaration of having something you can call your own.
POLICE LAW INSTITUTE
It is no secret that this was Annette’s favorite job she held. She could combine the two things she loved the most and that was writing and editing. She spoke fondly of her colleague who would take his time to go through and make all of his submissions poetic. Only problem was… this was legal writing not poetry.
Annette has always been an artist and to maintain her creativity she has drawn all throughout incarceration.
“Every mother deserves the ability to send her child a card.”
She proudly displayed her journal full of drawings and she had pages upon pages of designs other inmates could choose from. For every holiday, birthday, graduation, etc. Annette had something for all mom’s. While she was proud to display art she sadly reflected on her inability to draw as much as she once had. As she glanced down at her hands…
“They just don’t work like they used to.”
TIME
It’s funny how all the time in the world can be gone in the blink of an eye and suddenly you have no time at all. The pleas for just two more hours with her loved ones when the visitation time is over. All the time in the world is crammed into phone calls and weekly visits, hoping that one day the lives she watched through images become real people again.
“I missed my daughter’s wedding…”
The grandkids get taller and the faces you once surrounded yourself with get older. But as time continues to past, you’re stuck in the same cycle day in and day out. You miss out on moments that no person could fathom missing.
No amount of begging or pleading will make time stop. There is no rewind button. You can only sit wishing for more time that will never come.
And just like that 25 years can pass…
Year 25
“FOR THE LOVE OF GOD, LOCK UP YOUR TOOTHBRUSH”
Courtesy of Annette herself, we took the working title from her ongoing novel that best sums up what life in prison is like. Can you imagine locking up your toothbrush? Something we do when we go on vacation…but never at home. However, this is the life that Annette lives day by day. She went from a quiet house with just her and her husband to being thrust into a space with at least 60 other women. Your personal items no longer hold the special significance they once did because these personal items are state-issued, you nor your toothbrush are unique. The once cherished moments in your routine become a bitter realization of your current predicament. Something like getting your hot cup of coffee in the morning can turn out to be a grave mistake because someone put soap in the water. The freedoms that we take for granted cease to exist.
It’s always the same thing, over and over, and over again
3:30 AM
Wake up, enjoy the peace and quiet while it last.
5:00 AM
Electronic access finally starts
8:15 AM - 11:00 AM
Work
5:30 PM
Dinner time
9:00 PM
Time for lockdown and she must be in her room
But Sundays…
The beginning of the Journey
Every Sunday since 2019, Bill hops in his car and starts the journey from their home to where Annette is currently incarcerated in Mitchellville.
2 hours later…
The drive, long and monotonous, is his least favorite part of the day. With nothing to distract him but the flat, empty landscape, he can’t help but reflect on his life without her, and he thinks of all the moments Annette has missed: weddings, birthday parties, and the birth of their first great-grandchild. By the time he arrives, he remembers to grab Annette a burger and a cup of coffee from the VR. When he is finally able to get into the visiting center she is already waiting at their favorite table by the window. Then he sees her smile, and in that moment, everything feels perfect again. Her smile makes the long drive, the early mornings, and the painful separation worth it, week after week, as long as Annette remains in the Iowa Women’s Correctional Facility. The two sit at a table by the window spending as much time together as possible before the inevitable comes and Bill has to make the 2-hour drive back home without Annette. After five long years of incarceration and over 260 opportunities to come visit Annette, Bill has only ever missed 3 visits with her.
Though Sundays offer a small reprieve from the devastation of incarceration, Annette’s imprisonment does not change.
“IF YOU HAVEN’T THOUGHT ABOUT SUICIDE YOU ARE LYING”
The nights get quiet, the mornings even quieter. At times you find yourself lying awake thankful for the small reprieve of stillness that escapes the usual noise of incarceration. But then…the silence becomes full of a different noise. The mind chatter that begs for an ending to it all. That the constant cycle of the same thing over and over again is not worth the mental toll. You hear the same “I can’t wait to get out” over and over it becomes a norm, but nothing about incarceration is normal.
“You’ll get used to it…”
Annette doesn’t live her life bowing to the idea of being comfortable with incarceration. She doesn’t belong in these cement walls. There’s no way to get used to the complete erosion of your rights. What’s one to do? Sometimes you turn to Plan Z. Ending the constant noise seems like a better idea than to indulge further with the horrors of incarceration. She stays for the people she has on the outside of the suffocating prison walls she must be in. But, what about the people who don’t have anyone?
“I pray a day never comes and I’m used to this [incarceration]” This is what Annette says as she gestures around the room we’re interviewing her in
