What happens when a mom who should be planning birthday parties is instead planning murders based on apocalyptic visions? The Lori Vallow case isn’t just another true crime story—it’s the moment our collective obsession with the macabre took a sharp turn into uncharted territory.
I’ve spent countless nights (much to Ryan’s annoyance) falling down the rabbit hole of this case, and let me tell you, it’s as twisted as a pretzel in a tornado.
The Case That Broke the True Crime Mold
If you’ve somehow missed this nightmare fuel, here’s the CliffsNotes version: Lori Vallow Daybell and her fifth husband Chad Daybell were found guilty of murdering her two children, 16-year-old Tylee Ryan and 7-year-old JJ Vallow. As if that weren’t enough for your average episode of Dateline, they also conspired to kill Chad’s previous wife, Tammy.
The kicker? They justified it all with doomsday beliefs about zombies and the approaching apocalypse. Because nothing says “preparing for the end times” like murdering your own children and burying them in your backyard. (I wish I was being facetious, but that’s literally what happened.)
Last May, Lori was sentenced to life without parole after a jury found her guilty on all counts. Chad, not to be outdone in the “consequences for horrific actions” department, received the death penalty. The extensive timeline of their crimes reads like a horror movie script that no studio would touch for being too disturbing.
How This Case Changed Everything
Before Lori Vallow, true crime had a certain… predictability. The husband did it. The boyfriend did it. The stranger in the bushes did it. But a mother killing her children because she believed they were possessed by evil spirits? That shifted our entire understanding of what motivates murder.
This case forced us to confront the terrifying reality that sometimes the monster isn’t hiding under the bed—she’s tucking you in at night.
True crime storytelling has evolved from simple whodunits to complex psychological explorations. We’re no longer satisfied with just knowing who committed the crime; we want to understand the twisted path that led them there. (And boy, was Lori’s path twisted—like a DNA helix made of barbed wire.)
The Media Frenzy That Changed How We Consume Crime
I’ve never seen a case capture public attention quite like this one. The trial coverage broke viewership records, podcasts dedicated entire seasons to it, and Facebook groups analyzing every detail popped up faster than alibi holes in a suspect’s story.
What made this case different was how it blended elements that previously existed in separate true crime categories:
- Religious extremism (usually reserved for cult stories)
- Family annihilation (typically the domain of fathers)
- Conspiracy and manipulation (usually seen in con artist tales)
It was like the unholy trinity of true crime narratives, and we couldn’t look away. I certainly couldn’t—just ask my browser history or the concerning number of notes on my phone.
The Warning Signs We All Missed
The most chilling aspect of the Vallow-Daybell murders isn’t just what happened—it’s that so many warning signs were visible beforehand.
Lori’s ex-husband tried to warn authorities about her increasingly bizarre behavior. Family members reported concerns. There were suspicious deaths in their orbit (including Lori’s previous husband, shot by her brother Alex Cox—who conveniently later died himself).
Yet somehow, these two kept slipping through the cracks like murderous eels covered in alibi oil.
This case has made us all more aware of the warning signs of extremist beliefs and their potential to escalate into violence. It’s changed how we view seemingly “normal” people who start spouting apocalyptic beliefs at the neighborhood barbecue. (Pro tip: If your neighbor starts ranking people by their “light or dark” spiritual status, maybe keep your distance. And your children closer.)
What This Means For True Crime Going Forward
True crime will never be the same after Lori Vallow. The bar for what shocks us has been raised to stratospheric heights (or lowered to abyssal depths, depending on your perspective).
We’re now primed to look deeper into the psychological and sociological factors behind crimes. The “what happened” is just the appetizer—we’re hungry for the multi-course meal of “why” and “how could this happen.”
And maybe, just maybe, this case will help us spot the next Lori Vallow before children end up buried in someone’s backyard. Because if there’s one thing I’ve learned from my years of true crime obsession, it’s that these stories aren’t just entertainment—they’re cautionary tales wrapped in court transcripts and police tape.
Now if you’ll excuse me, I need to triple-check that my doors are locked. Not because I’m paranoid… but because I’ve done my homework.