By Jeff Balke
By Aaron Reiss
By Angelica Leicht
By Dianna Wray
By Aaron Reiss
By Camilo Smith
By Craig Malisow
By Jeff Balke
"All that I know about the group was that anyone who took part in any activities were willing participants. As far as I know, there were no teachers who took part in any of the activities, and all of the faculty knew about them."
"At the time the girl was 14. But the type of person she is and the things she does -- it didn't surprise me. I know her personally. That's probably why the school district didn't really care about the situation... [Granger] messed with anything that had a you-know-what, but I always saw him messing with grown women, not young."
"I knew a few members of the clique. They were really nice people who all had a common interest, but I do know that none of them were aggressive... If you didn't want to, they left it at that."
"It never was an organization that forced females to do sexual favors on guys or girls. No one was forced to do anything that they didn't want to do. The girls were asked if they wanted these favors done and guys joined on their own."
"If no one can bring up any hard evidence to prove the other party wrong, then it is just hearsay, and why has it taken all of these years for something to finally surface? Why couldn't this have occurred when this incident first arose? ...The girl in the 3K case who is making these accusations graduated in my class and was well known as a fighter and a damned good one at that; she never lost a fight -- boy or girl. If she was being forced, someone would have gotten hurt. I also understand that despite her consensually having sex with him it is wrong to have sex with a minor. However, this guy is not the type to go out and engage in that type of behavior with a student."
Assistant District Attorney Ed Shettle says these types of cases are particularly difficult to prosecute in criminal court. "I've got a 15-year-old daughter and a nine-year-old daughter, and by golly, I'm going to protect them," he says. "But in our county it is a very frustrating situation for us. You've just got to have a slam-dunk case to feel confident when you walk in the courtroom, and then you don't always win. It's just horribly frustrating, because you do have that attitude that, 'Well, she's 14. She wanted it. She's old enough. She knows what it's all about.'"
Life hasn't been the same for Libby ever since she came forward with her version of what happened five years ago.
"Friends aren't friends any more, you know what I'm saying, since this stuff happened -- and some of the people I grew up with, you know, since knee-high," she says. "The ones who I thought were my friends, they don't talk to me anymore. If I call to check on them, they don't even return my phone calls. It's only like one or two of them, but it hurts, because they're supposed to be my close friends."
Boys will be boys, the logic goes, and girls who cry foul are either nuts or sluts -- and should be avoided either way.
"I used to be real, real bad when I was in high school," she says. "But when you really look at it, years passed by and I matured over the years. People hear my name now and they still say stuff, but I don't care, because I know, at least I know."
After Libby graduated from Ozen, she enrolled at Lamar University, she says, but Granger was there, taking classes, popping up on campus, reminding her of what happened. Libby dropped out and started working full-time in retail, but she plans to go back to Lamar next summer, hopefully after all the criminal and civil trials are done.
Even then, she might not stay for very long.
"I just really want to get out of here," she says. "I just really want to get out of Beaumont."
She wants to transfer her credits to the University of Houston, she says, where she'll study to become an elementary school teacher.
"School is not what it used to be," she says. "How I hear my momma and my daddy talk, when he played football and my momma was slender and she was a cheerleader and everything, it was good back then. Teachers cared, you know, teachers were like parents. If you did something wrong, they would call home and let parents know. They would discipline you if they knew your momma…
"Now BISD, especially at the administration building, they want to keep everything hush-hush, and it shouldn't be like that over there."
Libby says she hasn't spoken to Granger since her accusations came out, but she knows it'll happen in court, where she plans to say:
"Can you just tell the truth so we all can just go home and everybody can go on with their life?"