Petaluma couple’s violent deaths a contrast with long, loving relationship

Bertha Leffler sparked a lifelong love affair when she sent a letter to soldiers fighting in the Korean War and it landed in the hands of Harold Coombes, the man who would become her husband of 63 years. The couple built a life in Petaluma, raising four children there, and Harold's career working with plaster still stands in the form of the larger-than-life chicken sculpture at the Sonoma-Marin Fairgrounds.

Their enmeshed lives ended together suddenly when, last month, Harold, 86, picked up his wife from a clinic, where she'd spent weeks rehabilitating from an ankle injury, and brought her home. The next day, Bertha, 83, was found fatally shot in the bed where she'd spent much of the previous six months following a series of falls, according to family and police. Harold was seated, on the other side of the wall from his wife, having killed himself with the same gun.

Family members say that, although violent, sudden and heartbreaking, they view the way Bertha and Harold died as a reflection of their deeply intertwined lives and an unwillingness to be without the other.

“It was merciful; it was not murder,” said their son-in-law Dave Perry, 63, who worked alongside Harold during their careers as plasterers. “It was a release from a body that wasn't working anymore. They're not in pain now - that's the way we have to think about it.”

After a relative discovered their bodies Jan. 19, police found a will and a handwritten note left out on a table in which Harold matter-of-factly apologized to his family for any inconvenience created by the manner of the couple's deaths. He also warned those who found them to be careful of the gun.

Members of the Coombes' family have said that they firmly believe that Harold and Bertha had decided to die together in this way, ending a mounting list of health challenges and possibly depression.

Investigators agree with the family's assessment, saying the case bears the hallmarks of a murder-suicide not preceded by a history of conflict, but one following a long life of hard work and togetherness. Petaluma Police Sgt. Ed Crosby said that Harold Coombes' final acts appear to have been driven by a combination of exhaustion, devotion and Harold's fears over his diminishing ability to care for his wife.

Perry said they believe Harold may have been motivated by Bertha's stated dread of being sent to a care facility. She did not want to leave their home, he said.

Their deaths highlight common threads among cases of homicide-suicide among the elderly: a male caretaker and an ill wife. Experts say that depression is under-diagnosed among seniors, which is reflected by a high rate of suicide among people age 85 and up compared to the general population.

Loving, harworking pair

Interviews with the Coombes' family as well as police and a family friend create a portrait of a loving, hardworking couple who were private, traditional and loyal. Harold Coombes was a career plasterer and lather who built the iconic white-and-red chicken statue, “Petaluma Pete,” that still stands today at the Sonoma-Marin Fairgrounds in town. Bertha was a homemaker with a large, carefully kept salt-and-pepper shaker collection that included a chicken shaker Harold used as muse for his plaster statue.

Together they raised four children, daughters Gloria Swadley of Penngrove and Joyce Perry of Rohnert Park and sons Richard Gravelle of Rohnert Park and Michael Proffitt of Santa Rosa. They took in the boys, at 1 and 5 years old, from a relative and raised them as their own.

Crosby said that detectives found no evidence that the couple had any problems other than health challenges. Detectives learned that Harold Coombes had, in the past, “mentioned, hypothetically, how he wanted to go in the context of aging” to his family.

“They lived a lifestyle of independence and clearly were able to take care of themselves for some time,” Crosby said. “As best as we can tell, the totality of the circumstances are: We've reached the end of our lives and this is how we've decided to go.”

Their home, in a senior community of mobile homes off North McDowell Boulevard, was immaculate, from the tops of counters to the inside of cupboards, he said. Crosby described the home as the “neatest I've ever seen.”

He said the police investigation is for the most part closed. The only remaining question is whether Bertha had agreed to her fate.

“Only Bertha knows for sure,” Crosby said.

But family members said that in their hearts they are sure.

Perry, who spoke for the family, said Harold had over the years casually mentioned that he would end things if life became too difficult, although at the time Perry took it to be a passing comment. He said he's sure the couple discussed their deaths.

“They talked about and planned everything together,” Perry said.

55 and older

While no government agency regularly tracks statistics related to cases of homicide-suicide, a University of South Florida professor and leading expert on the topic has found that it disproportionately affects people 55 and older.

Of an average 1,500 to 2,500 homicide-suicides that occur in a given year, as many as 700 involve people age 55 and older, according to Donna Cohen, head of the university's violence and injury prevention program. Cohen has been tracking such deaths since 1992 and is also an expert in geriatric mental health.

Cohen's research has found there is no prior history of interpersonal violence for the majority of cases involving elderly people. Rather, researchers have found a set of factors often including stress and probable depression on the part of the caretaker in charge of an ill loved one. Most cases involve guns, and the initiators are usually men.

“Depression is like wearing dark glasses. You don't see alternatives,” Cohen said. “They're totally devoted to the point that they don't take care of themselves and they don't know to do anything different.”

For elderly men, Cohen said that there can be an element of pride as well as a lack of experience reaching out for help or confiding in others about personal problems.

Health providers aren't necessarily trained to recognize suicidal tendencies among the elderly, who often are dealing with an array of health problems, said Crista Chelemedos, executive director of the Sonoma County nonprofit Senior Advocacy Services, an ombudsman program for seniors. Elders are less likely to recognize depression in themselves or bring it up if they do, she said.

“It is such a stigma,” Chelemedos said. “Seniors are a stoic group. They've been through wars; they've seen so much.”

Childhood in foothills

Born in 1929, Harold Coombes was raised in Grass Valley with two sisters and a brother. They grew up hunting and fishing in the foothills and their father worked in a coal mine.

Harold was serving in the Korean War when he answered a letter from a woman named Bertha Leffler from Kansas, among a stack of notes written by people back home to bring encouragement to soldiers serving overseas.

Bertha was part of a large farming family, with eight siblings, Perry said. Her father died when she was a teenager after a bad fall while working. She lost a brother in World War II.

She and Harold kept corresponding after that first exchange, and he eventually visited her in Kansas. They married in 1953.

The Coombeses raised their children on Burlington Drive off East Washington Street.

Mary Vivenzi, who grew up down the street from the Coombeses, said their families were close and she recalled many meals at the Coombes' table, including Christmas dinner.

Bertha always was ready with a Band-Aid for a scrape or tissue for a tear, Vivenzi said. She said Harold was a proud man who always had “a story teaching us kids the difference between right and wrong, love and honor, pride and strength.”

“It was not hard to see the love in Harold's eyes every time they were in a room together,” Vivenzi said.

Harold retired in his 60s and turned his energy toward building a house on a property in Lake County. They returned to Petaluma about 10 years ago.

Extended family in area

Neighbors said the Coombeses were friendly but kept to themselves. Perry said that they were close with their extended family in Sonoma County, including several of Bertha's siblings who had moved to the area. Most Fridays, Perry brought Harold and Bertha to his parents' home in Cotati, where they had a family dinner and spent the night.

Perry said they knew it was hard for Harold to retire after leading such a physical life. As Bertha's health declined, Harold took on more and more of the cooking, cleaning and housework. For the past several years, he took total care of his wife, who needed help with most tasks, including walking and bathing, Perry said.

But if he had been truly struggling with that burden, he did not tell his family.

“He never let us know,” Perry said. “That generation, everything is a secret, everything is private. It's done between husband and wife.”

Cohen said that Harold Coombes “fits the pattern of someone who needs to do a job and to do it correctly.”

Through her research, Cohen has developed advice for medical providers, caretakers, family members, neighbors and others in contact with people who might be suffering from caregiver stress: Ask if they feel any suicidal thoughts.

“You're not going to put ideas into their head, you're going to give them incredible relief that they're normal,” Cohen said. “Family members should not be afraid to sit down and have a talk with Dad: ‘We're worried about you, have you ever thought about killing yourself and killing mom?' Ask if there are guns in the house, and if so, get rid of them.”

You can reach Staff Writer Julie Johnson at 521-5220 or julie.johnson@pressdemocrat.com. On Twitter @jjpressdem.