- Rebecca’s world fell apart when she learned the truth about her father, Dan Lafferty
- Dan believed he had to carry out a murder to fulfil a ‘message’ from God, together with his brother Ron they killed Brenda, then 24, and Erica, just 15 months old
- Rebecca spent years healing and now helps others find their own path to healing via hypnotherapy
Here Rebecca Lafferty, 49, tells her own story in her own words.
Folding the shirt, I added it to the pile of washing in front of me.
It was February 2021 and, as I finished the last sock, I felt my phone buzz in my pocket. Without thinking, I took the call.
‘Hello this is a call from Dan Lafferty, an inmate at Utah State Prison,’ the robotic voice relayed.
‘To accept this free call press zero, to refuse hang up or press one.’
Aged 44, it had been 13 years since I’d spoken to him, and now my father was calling me.
Adrenaline sent my heart thudding in my chest.
READ MORE: My loving dad became a killer
Hands shaking, I hovered my thumb over the keypad and accepted the call.
I was 12 in 1989, when I finally learned the truth about my father.
When he went to prison in 1984, I was seven. All I knew was he’d been caught up in some trouble with his big brother, my uncle Ron.
Uncle Ron had monstrously killed their brother Allen’s wife Brenda, then 24, and my cousin Erica, just 15 months old.
Dad was sentenced to life in prison, while Ron was given the death sentence.
I assumed because Dad had been there, he’d been arrested too.
Whenever Mum would take me to visit Dad behind bars, he’d always tell me he’d be coming home soon.
‘I’ll be out of here soon, Bird,’ he promised, using my nickname.
And I always believed him.
After Dad went to jail, Mum moved me to a new school. Then when I was 12, I first heard the whispers. ‘Rebecca, I figured out your little secret,’ one boy taunted.
What does he mean? I thought, confused.
‘All I knew was he’d been caught up in some trouble with his big brother, my uncle Ron.’
On the bus home a few days later there was another murmur.
‘Yeah, her dad’s a baby killer,’ a girl whispered loud enough for me to hear.
‘That’s not true,’ I yelled, storming off the bus.
That night, I confronted Mum.
‘Why would she make up things like that?’ I cried.
Mum paused.
‘Well, he did,’ she admitted. ‘It wasn’t Ron who killed Erica, it was your father.’
Fleeing to my room, I felt like my world was falling apart.
My earliest memories were of Dad fawning over toddler me whenever he got home. ‘Hello sweet girl,’ he’d coo, wriggling my fingers and toes.
But Dad was a wicked killer. He’d murdered an innocent baby – my cousin…
Dad and Uncle Ron had both been excommunicated from the Church of Latter-day Saints due to their fundamentalist polygamous beliefs, joining breakaway sect the School of the Prophets.
Dad and Uncle Ron both claimed they were prophets and received messages from God.
One of those ‘messages’ was deadly…
Ron began claiming that he had received a ‘divine revelation’ that my aunt Brenda and baby cousin Erica were to be ‘removed’.
According to him ‘the Lord’ wanted Brenda and her child to die. The vile reason? Uncle Ron believed that Aunt Brenda had encouraged his ex-wife to divorce him due to his polygamous beliefs.
‘If my dad’s a murderer, am I evil too?‘
Now I was forced to face the reality that when Ron and Dad broke into Brenda’s house on July 24, 1984, while her husband Allen was away, Ron had beaten Brenda, strangled her with a vacuum cord, and slit
her throat with a knife.
And Dad had killed 15-month-old Erica by slitting her throat.
I’d met Brenda when I was five, and she was engaged to uncle Allen. I remember thinking she was so pretty.
I was crushed when I heard she had been killed. And sweet baby Erica too…
It broke my heart that my dad would do something so evil.
What does this mean about me? I worried, my mind racing, as I struggled to grasp my new reality.
If my dad’s a murderer, am I evil too? I panicked.
I didn’t confront Dad about what I knew, instead I pushed it down.
Still, I took Dad’s weekly phone calls for the next two years, until Mum finally cut off contact. Then I turned to writing letters.
School is going well, I wrote. I miss you.
Dad’s actions haunted me. And as gossip spread, I was tarnished as the ‘seed of evil’.
READ MORE: Raised by a serial killer: How I uncovered dad’s dark secret
‘I don’t want you hanging out with that Lafferty girl,’ friends’ parents would chide.
Still, joining a gymnastics club and doing swimming lessons, I made friends – ones who knew about my family and didn’t judge.
After school, as I became a dental assistant and started a family, I kept writing to Dad.
Life is good, I penned, filling him in on my job, my husband, my beautiful baby born in 1996. He’d write back, sending me drawings of life in prison.
For years I grappled with the pain of what my father had done.
But even though he’d done this heinous thing, he was still my dad. In 2006, aged 29, after 15 years, I visited Dad in prison.
I knew in order to fully heal, I needed to forgive him.
Seeing Dad behind the glass, clasped in chains, it broke my heart.
‘How are the family?’ he asked, before launching into a prophetic spiel.
Why aren’t you asking about me? I thought, upset.
After all these years, my father couldn’t care less about my life. And he had no remorse for the abhorrent crimes he and his brother had committed.
I visited a handful of times over the next couple of years, but it just became too hard.
Now in 2021, I clutched my phone to my ear and took a shaking breath as the call connected.
‘ Dad added that soon he’d be freed of his shackles by divine intervention’
‘Rebecca?’ he said.
‘Hi Dad,’ I replied.
Speaking quickly, he told me he only had 15 minutes to chat, filling me in on his work cleaning the bathrooms and that the other inmates had complimented him on how clean everything looked, which made him proud.
He told me he’d also been helping an elderly prisoner with dementia.
‘It’s nice to hear your voice,’ Dad said.
Then, Dad added that soon he’d be freed of his shackles by divine intervention, and it would be time for him to fulfil his role as the Prophet Elijah. And just like that, the spell was broken.
After all this time, Dad still believes he’s a prophet, it dawned on me.
Wincing, I endured the rest of the call. But when the phone disconnected, I let out a long exhale and didn’t fall apart.
I had worked hard on my healing with therapy, hypnotherapy, prayer and journalling, and even trained as a hypnotherapist to help others who’d suffered trauma to heal. I’ve turned my pain into purpose.
Last year, my memoir The Lafferty Girl: Surviving Trauma, Abuse, and My Father’s Crime was published after 20 years of writing.
I haven’t been in touch with Dad since November 2025. My uncle Ron died in prison in 2019 at the age of 78, after being on death row for 34 years. I was sad for his children.
My focus has been on my healing, and my family. I’ve got three gorgeous kids, now aged 30, 21 and 14. I love my job as a dental assistant and hypnotherapist, and spending time in nature.
While I hate what he did, I still love my father.
I often think of Brenda and Erica – who would have been 43 this year – and of the people they could have become.
I want to encourage other survivors of abuse and trauma to find their own way to healing and peace.
Even in the darkest of places, there is love.
To buy Rebecca’s book, visit rebeccalafferty.com
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