Kimberly Danforth: Hope after abuse

After Kris Barney’s ex-husband, Charles Salley, murdered their three-year-old daughter Miranda, Barney said she had no choice but to figure out how to continue to live.

“I just decided I was not going to let Charles win,” she said. “His plan was to take the one thing that he knew I loved the most, that sustained me. If he took her, he knew it would destroy me.

“I made a decision that if I allowed him to have that power over me, I might as well die myself.”

More than two decades later, Kimberly Danforth knew she, too, had no choice but to move forward when her abusive husband, former Grambling fire chief Patrick Aaron Conley, was arrested for raping and sexually brutalizing her for years, leaving her to care for three children alone with no home, no job and no college education.

“I knew I couldn’t stop,” Danforth said. “It was just one foot in front of the other. There wasn’t time to just sit there and cry.”

Recently, Barney and Danforth have bonded over their shared understanding of what it’s like to escape abuse and start over from nothing. Both women have used their traumatic experiences to support and care for other survivors in need.

Now, 25 years after Miranda’s murder, Barney is setting out on another path to fulfill that mission, one she hopes will carry on her lost child’s legacy: the Miranda Faith Memorial Foundation, a nonprofit focused on empowering survivors through education.

And Danforth was the perfect choice to receive the foundation’s first academic scholarship, a $2,500 gift awarded Saturday to help her complete her degree at Louisiana Tech University.

“Despite the adversity she has faced, this precious young woman has demonstrated unwavering determination, resilience, and a commitment to her education,” Barney said as friends and supporters gathered at Board and Bottle in downtown Ruston to celebrate the occasion.

“She has shown that it is possible to rise above circumstances, to pursue one’s dreams with passion, and to make a positive impact on the world.”

Escaping abuse

Patrick Aaron Conley was arrested on April 21, 2021, after raping Danforth twice the previous night.

He was also accused of several other extreme acts of abuse over the previous three years, including beating Danforth bloody with a rhinestone belt and carving the letter “A” for Aaron into her lower back with an X-acto knife.

Nearly a year later, in a dramatic week-long trial, a 3rd Judicial District jury convicted Conley on two charges of second-degree rape and four counts of various kinds of battery. He was sentenced to 95 years in prison with no parole or probation, and an appeal has since been rejected in Second Circuit court.

It was Danforth’s compelling testimony that became the lynchpin of the prosecution’s case. She detailed how Conley leveraged his local political connections and medical expertise as fire chief to threaten her with retaliation against her and the children if she ever left.

But perhaps even more than the physical abuse, it was the overwhelming control Conley exerted over Danforth’s life that made it all the more difficult to pick up the pieces in the aftermath.

Left with nothing

Before they met, Danforth was majoring in communication design at Louisiana Tech. She married Conley when she was 19 and he was in his 40s, and she said he didn’t allow her to continue her education.

Cutting her off from contact with her family, tracking her phone and car, controlling what she’d do with her clothes, makeup and body — Conley dictated every facet of her life, Danforth said.

“I couldn’t even read books,” she said. “ He wouldn’t let me. He literally told me my job was to look pretty and wait on him hand and foot.”

It’s a tale Barney has heard many times through her work with DART and other efforts to support survivors.

“They have to rebuild their lives, basically,” Barney said. “ Leaving an abusive relationship, especially when you’re not allowed to get an education or even work, or do anything — rebuilding is a huge roadblock, because they have nothing. A lot of times they don’t have a credit card, they don’t have money, their names are not even on mortgages or cars or anything.”

So it was for Danforth. She and her three children — age 14, 10 and 8 at the time of the arrest — went to live with her sister in Haughton, joining their family of five in one house.

Rebuilding

Danforth started waiting tables, and then working at an assisted living facility changing adult diapers. She received a scholarship to enroll in broadcasting at Bossier Parish Community College and worked toward an associate’s degree.

“I would get off work at the assisted living facility, go to work in the (broadcast) studio for a couple hours, and then go home, help the kids with their homework, cook dinner, clean the house, and stay up way past midnight doing my own homework,” Danforth said.

Eventually they were able to get their own place to live. Danforth completed her degree at BPCC and enrolled at Tech to work on a bachelor’s degree in interdisciplinary studies.

It wasn’t all struggle and difficulty. The night Conley was convicted, Danforth told the Leader her family would now be able to “live a free life without control,” and Saturday she said that’s exactly what they’ve done.

“My kids are able to live lives,” she said. “They get to have birthday parties where all their friends get to show up. We get to go have ice cream, just hit the town and do whatever we want with nobody keeping tabs on us. There’s no fear in our home.”

Bella, Eli and Clover never saw the physical abuse Conley brought upon their mother. Danforth testified at court that this was by design — Conley would plan the incidents for when the kids were sleeping or not around, and Danforth in turn would hide the evidence to protect them.

All the same, she said the children were isolated and controlled throughout their old life.

“When we lived in Ruston, they couldn’t have friends over,” she said. “My son’s first birthday party in our own home, he said it was the best birthday ever because his whole class got to show up.”

Now, Bella wins local art contests in the Shreveport/ Bossier area, and Eli takes part in robotics club and plays in the band at school.

“Before, we weren’t able to do any of that,” Danforth said.

Gwen’s Law

That feeling of newfound freedom took a little while to take hold.

When Conley was first arrested, Danforth feared everything he’d told her would turn out to be true — he would pull strings to be released from jail and return.

“I was scared to death,” she said. “I knew if he was let free, he’d want to retaliate. I had to fight it.”

She said investigators told her to get out of the parish immediately, in case Conley was able to make bail.

But then Gwen’s Law kicked in.

A relatively recent Louisiana law, Gwen’s Law requires a hearing for offenders charged with certain crimes involving violence or the threat of violence against family members. Judges can determine these offenders can’t be given bail and must be held in jail until their trial.

That was the case with Conley, much to Danforth’s relief.

The law is named after Gwen Salley, who in 2014 was murdered by her husband, Mike Salley.

And it was Mike Salley’s brother who, 15 years earlier, shot and killed Barney’s little girl.

For Miranda

Barney left her abusive marriage to Charles Salley, who was convicted of stalking her. Even so, he was given the right to unsupervised visitation with their three-year-old daughter Miranda.

One day Salley took Miranda to the hospital where his girlfriend worked. When the girlfriend emerged, Salley shot her point blank. He then took Miranda out of the car and did the same to her. He was killed by police after refusing to surrender his weapon.

“A lot of people don’t survive trauma like that,” Barney said. “ I could have taken a very different road.”

It was a combination of a strong support system and a burning desire to remove Salley’s power over her life that propelled her forward.

For the next 25 years, Barney has lived a life dedicated to educating others about domestic violence and assisting those who are experiencing it.

She’s written columns, counseled survivors, done speaking engagements — she’s even spoken at training programs the state Attorney General’s office puts on to educate police officers about domestic violence.

Now, she’s a community advocate for the Domestic Abuse Resistance Team in Ruston, which serves a seven-parish region by providing a shelter, crisis intervention, counseling, children’s services and more.

But she felt compelled to do something to help in an even more personal way.

“I wanted to be of more service,” Barney said. “I couldn’t let Miranda’s death be in vain. I didn’t want people to forget her name. I knew I wanted to do something in memory of her to help others who were affected by domestic violence.”

That turned into the Miranda Faith Memorial Foundation, seeking to raise money to provide survivors with scholarships, mentorship and holistic support.

Through fundraising efforts buoyed by other organizations like Beard Mobb Louisiana and the Troubled Souls Riding Club, the fledgling foundation was ready to award its first scholarship.

And Barney knew just who should receive it.

Danforth gives back

It was soon after joining DART that Barney met Danforth, who reached out to her on social media to thank her for a program she had just launched.

“I loved watching her grow — she was thriving,” Barney said. “She was so deserving. It was an easy decision for me.”

Like Barney before her, in the midst of recovery Danforth channeled her newfound freedom into helping others in similar situations.

She worked at Project Celebration, a shelter like DART, where she would educate the public on domestic violence and teach them about healthy and unhealthy relationships.

“I went through it all,” she said. “So I was able to see what stage another person coming in was in. I knew how to help them. Going through all the emotions myself, I knew how to meet the needs of other women.”

Now Danforth is the Director of Art at Evergreen Life Services, which serves individuals with intellectual and developmental disabilities. She runs a program that helps clients make their own art pieces, sell them, and keep the profits.

“God’s been opening doors for me this whole time,” she said. “And I’m excited to see what door he opens for me next. Whatever it is, I want to make a positive impact.”

Seek help

As Danforth continues her education at Tech this fall, she was preparing to take out a loan to help cover her tuition. But thanks to the Miranda foundation’s scholarship, she won’t have to.

Barney and Danforth know the importance of seeking help and resources when getting back on one’s feet after escaping abuse.

“A lot of survivors don’t realize there are so many resources in Louisiana that can help them move forward, like scholarships, grants, organizations and programs like DART,” Barney said.

Seeking help was the most important advice these two survivors said they could give. DART’s 24/7 crisis hotline is 318-251-2255 in Lincoln Parish and 1-888-411-1333 elsewhere in Louisiana.

Barney and Danforth hope their stories can serve as encouragement that there’s always hope for a better future.

“Ask questions. Go to a support group. Find a good mentor,” Danforth said. “Every roadblock out there, use it as a steppingstone to get higher and higher so you can create the life that you want.”