The Mountain Man Murder of Rebecca Wight

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Three to four million people hike part of the Appalachian Trail every year. Rebecca Wight was one of them, and in 1988, Stephen Carr immortalized her in another statistic: the dozen trail hikers who’ve been murdered. Her girlfriend, Claudia Brenner, survived the attack to share their story.

SOUTH CENTRAL PENNSYLVANIA

The heart of this case lies in Pennsylvania’s Michaux State Forest, which covers over 85,000 acres of land and three counties in the eastern United States – Adams, Cumberland, and Franklin. It contains 37 miles of the world-famous Appalachian Trail, three state parks, and an abundance of natural recreational areas. 

Cleversburg is one of several rural towns dotting Michaux’s borders. The closest nearby town is Shippensburg with a population of only about 5.500 today and at the time of Rebecca Wight’s murder. It’s a conservative farming region with a sizable Mennonite population and churches on just about every block. 

CRIMINAL BEGINNINGS

Stephen Carr, born December 14, 1959, moved from Bath, New York to Cleversburg in the 1960s with his family. Stephen was an outcast in school and rumored to live on a school bus. By the age of 15, he had dropped out of school and left the area with his mother, relocating to Zephyrhills, Florida. 

In 1979, 19-year-old Stephen was charged with mail theft after he and an accomplice stole more than $1,000 worth of checks from a mobile home park’s mail. Four years later, Stephen broke into the home of Greta Gullifer, a 75-year-old Zephyrhills woman who lived alone, intending to rob her. When she awoke screaming, Stephen panicked and stabbed her before fleeing. 

Greta survived, but police wouldn’t catch Stephen Carr until 1984 when they charged him for operating a burglary ring in the Zephyrhills area. He and at least one accomplice targeted local homes, vehicles, and churches, stealing cash and items they could quickly resell, like electronics and tools. 

MOUNTAIN MAN

In January 1987, Stephen returned to Cleversburg a fugitive fleeing an arrest warrant for grand theft in Florida. Many locals knew that Stephen was a fugitive, but they didn’t know the extent of his crimes. Recalling his family and his past, people mostly felt sorry for Stephen and respected his decision to live as “a wanderer” and “resourceful man of the woods.” People around town saw Stephen as a “quiet young man” and “friendly” “nature lover.” 

Stephen built lean-tos in the Michaux State Forest surrounding Cleversburg where he would shelter while out hunting, fishing, and trapping. He also had a cave hideout at his step uncle, Gordon Luce’s, property, where he ran electricity from Gordon’s barn down to the cave. 

A few times a week, Stephen showed up at the Golden family’s home, friends of his who would provide meals, company, and an opportunity to wash up. He was known as a “good artist” and drew pictures for the family and their neighbors. He also shot birds and bottles in the family’s backyard with their teenaged son. 

BUDDING ROMANCE

Around the time Stephen Carr returned to Cleversburg, Rebecca Wight and Claudia Brenner began dating. Claudia was born June 26, 1956 in New York, and Rebecca was born three years later on October 17, 1959, in the Washington, DC area. In the fall of 1985, Claudia enrolled at Virginia Tech to work on her masters in architecture. Rebecca was already there and working on her masters in business management. 

Claudia and Rebecca started dating in the spring of 1987, but it was a long-distance relationship. In addition to being full-time advanced degree students who worked part-time gigs, Rebecca was a dedicated counseling volunteer who loved to travel abroad. Claudia’s home was in Ithaca, and she went to Israel on a fellowship study opportunity early in 1988. 

They made it work by planning trips together in between their separate activities, like on May 12, 1988, when they met at a central location in Pennsylvania. They planned to take the Appalachian Trail southwest through Michaux, camp at the Birch Run Shelter Thursday and Friday nights, and then meet up with Rebecca’s sisters. They would spend the rest of the weekend with Rebecca’s sisters in DC.

At about 5:00 pm, the couple traveled to a parking lot off the trail. The two experienced and well-equipped hikers would embark on their trip as planned, but it would end eight miles short of their final destination, and Rebecca wouldn’t make it back alive. 

EARLY ENCOUNTERS

Rebecca and Claudia walked about two miles to Birch Run Shelter, arriving around 6:30 pm, and camped there overnight. This area is one of many trailside waypoints where hikers can rest, relax, and refresh themselves. The couple hadn’t encountered anyone else yet. They decided to enjoy the weather and freedom by undressing for bed and staying undressed when they woke up the next morning, Friday, May 13. 

When Rebecca went to use the outhouse, wearing nothing but a pair of sneakers, a man startled her – she and Claudia thought they were alone. Stephen Carr was at a lean-to near the outhouse and asked Rebecca if she had a cigarette. She said no and returned to tell Claudia about the “creepy” encounter. The women quickly dressed, finished eating, packed up their things, and left, exchanging a mutual “see you later” with Stephen as they passed.  

They wanted a more private campsite for Friday night after that run-in and hiked about another mile southwest on the Appalachian Trail before they reached the spot where it intersects the Rocky Knob Loop Trail. While they consulted their map, they saw Stephen Carr coming up behind them on the trail. This time, he was casually carrying a rifle.

“Are you lost already?” Stephen asked. 

“No, are you?” Claudia retorted.

Stephen continued in a different direction, saying he was headed toward his vehicle and going to work, which we know is a lie – he didn’t have a vehicle or a job. Claudia and Rebecca took the loop trail counterclockwise about two miles over steep, rocky terrain that afforded beautiful views of the mountain ridge and surrounding area. Near the trail’s southern terminus, they found a footpath that led to a secluded clearing next to a stream.

At around 3:30 pm, Rebecca and Claudia made camp there. Other than Stephen Carr, they hadn’t met anyone else on the trail, and they felt safe in this spot that authorities would later call an “extremely desolate” and “remote area.” After refreshing themselves, the couple laid their tent fly on the ground to lounge together. 

EIGHT BULLETS

Relaxation turned to intimate play, but things hadn’t gotten far – both women were still mostly dressed – when shots from Stephen Carr’s .22 caliber bolt action rifle screamed across the stream next to their campsite. “When the first bullet hit me, my arm exploded. My brain could not make the connections fast enough to realize I had been shot.” In the confusing seconds after the first shot, Rebecca told Claudia to “get down.” 

“When the second bullet hit my neck, I started to scream with all my strength. Somehow the second bullet was even more unbelievable than the first…The third bullet came and…hit the other side of my neck. By then I had lost track of what was happening or where we were except that I was in great danger, and it was not stopping…a fourth bullet hit me in the face…The fifth bullet hit the top of my head.”

Rebecca told Claudia to run behind a nearby tree for cover. “The sixth bullet hit Rebecca in the back of her head as she rose to run for the tree…The seventh bullet hit Rebecca’s back as she ran. It exploded her liver and caused her to die…The eighth bullet missed.” Claudia could tell where the shots had come from but never saw who fired them. 

Once it seemed like the shooting had stopped, Claudia used extra clothing to staunch the bleeding. When she realized Rebecca couldn’t move, Claudia decided to walk out for help. Rebecca was losing consciousness when Claudia left her. 

THE LONG ROAD TO HELP

Using a map and flashlight, Claudia walked almost four miles out of the densely wooded and unfamiliar mountains, at dusk, spitting blood and bits of broken teeth from one of the five shots she had taken. She said that saving Rebecca’s life kept her going. Claudia exited the woods onto Ridge Road – an unpaved mountain road – then kept walking northeast to Shippensburg Road. She wondered with every step if the shooter was still following her.

When Claudia finally saw a vehicle, it didn’t stop. She managed to flag down the second vehicle, a truck driven by two local teenagers. In case she died on the way to the hospital, Claudia hurriedly explained what happened to Rebecca and where to find her. 

In about 15 minutes, they arrived at the Shippensburg Police Department – the closest town with emergency services. An ambulance hustled Claudia another 15 minutes to the closest hospital in Chambersburg, and they airlifted her to the Hershey Medical Center, another 60 miles away. 

IMMEDIATE AFTERMATH

Claudia’s first priority was sending help to Rebecca, but she was careful with what she revealed. In 1988, their lovemaking was illegal in half of American states (fortunately, Pennsylvania wasn’t one of them). She was also justifiably worried that if rescuers knew they were searching for a lesbian, they wouldn’t utilize maximum resources. Rebecca wasn’t out yet to her parents, and Claudia wanted to protect her.  

The Pennsylvania State Police rapidly descended on Michaux by foot, ATV, and horseback with local foresters. They found Rebecca, deceased, at 11:40 pm, and secured the scene until daylight to remove her body and search the area for evidence. An autopsy confirmed that Rebecca died quickly from two bullet wounds to her head and back. 

Police recovered evidence 82-feet away from Claudia and Rebecca’s campsite, across the stream: a blue knit cap, 25 rounds of live ammunition, eight spent .22 caliber shell casings, two cigarette lighters, a pair of sunglasses, and a black-handled folding knife. Everything was sent to the lab for further forensic analysis. Claudia’s description of the man she saw on the trail was publicized: a six foot tall white man wearing gray sweatpants with a maroon stripe down each leg. 

On May 14, while police worked the crime scene in Michaux, and surgeons tended to Claudia in Hershey, Stephen Carr visited the Golden household. Alice Golden said he was “upset” and had “tears in his eyes,” complaining that someone had stolen his gun and that he “did something wrong.” Alice didn’t know about the shooting yet, and Stephen left to hide out in the cave at his step uncle’s place. 

MANHUNT

In the following days, police slowly provided more details to the press and public and offered a $1,000 reward for information. They’re kept busy with the numerous tips coming in from local residents and their all-out canvassing of the area.

By May 18, after Claudia Brenner’s friends have done more legal research, she feels safe enough to tell police the whole truth about her and Rebecca Wight. It’s a relief to detectives who guessed that the two were girlfriends – they could now fully trust Claudia and close alternative avenues they’d been investigating. 

Around this same time, Stephen Carr fled his cave after a stretch of heavy rain flooded it. He headed north, on foot, through farm fields and woodlines, to the Conodoguinet Creek. Along the way, Stephen picked up a large metal mixing tub and used it to float down the creek until he reached the dairy farm of Mennonites Chester and Esther Weaver, about 20 miles northeast of the campsite crime scene. Stephen encountered Esther on the creekbank and asked her for help. He started working at the farm on a day-to-day basis in exchange for room and board. 

Stephen told the Weavers that his name was Mike Smith, from Bath, New York, and that he was hiking in the mountains when the weather turned. The Weavers said he was a “good helper,” “cordial,” and “well-mannered,” and they felt sorry for his situation. They were still suspicious and wary of him overstaying his welcome and resolved to address it with their church. Stephen reluctantly agreed to join them for Sunday service, warning that “God couldn’t forgive him for all he’d done.” 

On May 20, Claudia Brenner works with a sketch artist, and Alice Golden is one of several who respond to it, identifying Stephen Carr. When police interview her, she tells them about his visits, and shell casings from her backyard matched the ones found at the crime scene. Two white hairs found on the blue knit cap from the crime scene were a match to the Goldens’ all-white house cat. 

Because the Weavers are Mennonites, they weren’t aware of the sketch or news updates about the fugitive sheltering in their home. 

CLOSING IN

On Sunday, May 22, Rebecca Wight’s family and friends held a memorial service in Blacksburg, Virginia. Claudia was still in the hospital. That same day, Stephen Carr joined the Weaver family at church, leading both their pastor and a neighbor to tip off police. 

Early on May 24, police announced that Stephen Carr was their suspect and revealed his known whereabouts. Some local residents fled while others hunkered down to defend their property. But the time for fear was over: Stephen was arrested at the Weavers’ dairy farm later that morning. Dozens of officers, canines, and even a helicopter descended on the dairy, intercepting Stephen when he exited a farm truck carrying a load of heifers. He surrendered immediately and was arrested without incident. 

CONFESSION

Stephen was arrested on his fugitive warrant from Florida and told officers why he fled and what he’d been doing since then. He admitted that he was living in the mountains where the shooting occurred and carried a .22 caliber rifle with him but said the gun and some other personal belongings were stolen the morning of May 13 while he was sleeping on the trail. 

That’s when officers revealed that they found those “missing” items at the crime scene, Stephen began crying and uttered, “Why does this happen to me?” Next, officers dropped an even bigger bombshell: one of the women lived and could identify him from the trail. Stephen broke down crying again: “If I tell you what really happened, you’ll put me away for a long time. I should have run.” 

Stephen Carr would eventually confess, but his story evolved before landing on an accidental shooting – he thought he was shooting a deer until he heard the women screaming. After the interrogation concluded, Stephen led officers to the spot where he buried the murder weapon, near a reservoir at Shippensburg Road. 

RELIEF

On May 25, as Claudia Brenner was preparing for discharge from the hospital and her return to New York, Stephen Carr was charged in Pennsylvania with first degree murder, third degree murder, attempted murder, and two counts of aggravated assault. Since the campsite where the shooting occurred sits in Adams County, he was held in their county prison – without bail, since he could face the death penalty. 

Police credited local residents – their tips and cooperation – with the arrest. People rallied to protect Michaux and everything it means to them. From The Gettysburg Times staff editorial on May 17: “Since the mountains can’t find and deal with these intruders, humanity must; and, it must not be afraid to put out every energy to bring such individuals to justice. Silence is too important an ingredient in our lives. We must fight to protect it.” 

THE TRAIL TO TRIAL

Newspapers dubbed Stephen Carr the “Mountain Man Killer,” a “loner” and “homeless drifter” with an “unhealthy look.” Adams County struggled to find an attorney with the time or capacity to represent him, finally appointing public defender Michael George to his first capital case. The public responded with hate mail, calling him “sleazy” for taking the case. Today, he’s Judge Michael George, but his handling of this case still follows him.

A preliminary hearing was postponed to allow for a lineup in which Claudia Brenner positively identified Stephen as the man she met on the trail. Rebecca Wight’s sisters used the extra time to tell their parents about her relationship with Claudia, before they heard about it for the first time in court. Claudia wasn’t speaking to the press, and detectives never divulged the lesbian aspect of the case because it didn’t matter in proving who was responsible. 

On June 23, 1988, Claudia delivered powerful testimony for more than an hour at Stephen’s preliminary hearing. He didn’t testify and barely spoke or looked up throughout the proceedings. His attorney questioned Claudia about whether she or Rebecca “put on a show,” “intentionally tease[d],” or “purposefully reveal[ed]” their bodies to his client. 

Michael George also argued that evidence from the ballistics and autopsy reports should be thrown out as hearsay because officers read the reports into testimony. The experts who analyzed the evidence and wrote the reports didn’t testify themselves, therefore, there was no opportunity to cross-examine that evidence. The judge rejected this and a few other motions from the defense, bounding Stephen Carr over for trial in the fall. 

On July 26, Stephen was scheduled for an arraignment and a competency hearing. Rather than enter a plea, he “stood mute” at arraignment, so a not guilty plea was entered on his behalf. After that, Michael George postponed the competency hearing but was unsuccessful in petitioning for a different psychiatrist than the court-appointed one.

Michael George told the press that he felt the encounter between his client and the victims was an example of “two different lifestyles clashing.” The public defender would later admit that his strategy leading up to a jury trial was “to get the local folks talking more about the lesbianism than the murder.” By “local folks,” he meant the mostly white, rural, and Christian population who would make up the jury pool. 

AN AGREEMENT

Trial was set for Monday, October 31, 1988, in Gettysburg. The Friday before, the State, Claudia Brenner, and Rebecca Wight’s family consented to an agreement in which Stephen Carr plead guilty to first degree murder in exchange for dropping all other charges and the death penalty. Claudia made her first public statement, emphasizing her belief that this was a hate crime.

Michael George promised to appeal, telling the press that he had evidence supporting a provocation defense. He claimed that Stephen Carr was physically and sexually abused as a child and “ridiculed as a freak at school.” The judge already ruled that this evidence was irrelevant because it didn’t support provocation, perhaps diminished capacity at most.

THE PROVOCATION DEFENSE

On November 4, Michael George filed a post-verdict motion for Stephen Carr’s appeal. He wanted the first degree murder charge downgraded to manslaughter ahead of sentencing and explained that a jury, not a single judge, should decide the provocation issue. “What’s not provocation for you or I may very well have been provocation to Stephen Carr,” he said. 

Michael George presented arguments on March 17, 1989. He needed to prove that it was reasonable for Stephen to feel seriously provoked by Claudia and Rebecca’s actions, to the point of killing, and that he didn’t have the opportunity to remove himself from the situation. Michael George summarized how his client was provoked to murder: “He was constantly rejected by women. He was raped in a Florida prison. There are indications that his mother was a lesbian and she rejected him. Then there was the actions of these women on the mountain, where he’s not only rejected by two women, but lesbians.” 

Legal precedent and the deciding judge didn’t see things the same way. Rebecca and Claudia’s actions were lawful and nowhere near “legally adequate provocation.” Stephen could have simply walked away instead of stalking and shooting them. That makes any evidence supporting a provocation defense, like the victims’ sexual history or the killer’s psychosexual history, inadmissible. 

ADDITIONAL APPEALS

Michael George also argued that Stephen Carr wasn’t properly Mirandized when questioned about the shooting, and the evidence resulting from that illegal questioning, like statements of guilt and the murder weapon that he led officers to, should be dismissed. Stephen says he should have been given his Miranda Rights a second time before officers questioned him specifically about the shooting. 

The judge determined that officers’ initial questioning transitioned naturally from the fugitive warrant, when he was given his Miranda Rights, to the shooting case. Plus, Stephen knew he was a suspect and would be questioned about the shooting when he was brought in, admitting that himself early in the interrogation. 

Finally, Michael George once again argued that it was improper to exclude expert witness testimony at the preliminary hearing. Under Pennsylvania law, however, that wasn’t necessary or efficient practice for preliminary hearings. The appeal was formally denied on April 3, and the sentencing phase began.

ONE CHAPTER CLOSES

On May 17, 1989, a year and four days after Rebecca Wight was murdered, her killer was sentenced to life without parole. If she had lived, Rebecca would have been attending Penn State University and working on her doctorate by then. Her father reacted to the sentence by saying, “I wanted him sentenced to death – his life is worthless.” 

Stephen Carr appealed a month later, with his defense attorney arguing the same points that we’ve already heard. That appeal was formally denied on September 27, 1990. The “Mountain Man Killer” is now a 63-year-old inmate in Pennsylvania state prison. 

Five Pennsylvania State Police officers were honored for their work on this case, and there were surely dozens more who contributed to the successful investigation. They responded the usual “just doing my job” and gave credit back to the community. Claudia Brenner personally thanked these same officers, along with her medical staff, legal team, and others who helped save her life and fight for justice. Farmer Chester Weaver and his pastor, Laban Zimmerman, were also honored for their help leading to Stephen Carr’s arrest. 

AFTERMATH OF ACTIVISM

Claudia continued with her career in architecture and turned her traumatic experience into activism. She lobbied Pennsylvania lawmakers to increase penalties for hate crimes and classify crimes against gays and lesbians as hate crimes. At the time, the general public viewed homosexuality as a lifestyle choice, and laws didn’t offer them the same protections as other marginalized groups. Claudia also pushed federal lawmakers to require the collection of hate crime data.

In her 1995 book Eight Bullets: One Woman’s Story of Surviving Anti-Gay Violence, Claudia shares her first-person story of PTSD and its ripple effects, along with the little things you don’t think about when it comes to crime, like paying for the medical bills. Reading her personal story reminds you that no matter how our criminal justice system punishes murderers, it will never bring back what they stole. 

CONCLUSION

Current coverage of this case usually takes one of two narrative paths: it’s either a 

precautionary tale for trail hikers, or a breakthrough case for gay rights legislation. The complete picture is both of those things combined, plus forgotten stories, like a rural community that lost its innocence and, in many examples, proved the small town stereotypes wrong. 

There’s also a hint of what was to come – Stephen Carr is reminiscent of today’s mass shooters, the “incel” type who feel justified in violently punishing others for their perceived rejection by society.

ADDITIONAL RESOURCES

LOCAL REPORTING: