![]() I did 27 months for my role in helping John Manard escape. Marshals forced us from the highway in Tennessee. Fugitives from the law, we ran for 12 wonder-filled days before U.S. Who knew that a year later that love would take no prisoners? John folded himself into a cardboard box within a dog crate I watched as other inmates hefted it into my van. The little girl in me knew to stay quiet, but her smile remained. His dark sunglasses concealed just enough to set my mind to wonder, “Are those eyes the icy blue I’d expect on a redhead?” Everything about him, a testament to his character, unlike any other convicted killer I’d met while volunteering at the prison. I’d like to be your next handler.” I squinted one eye and shaded my other with my left hand. He offered his hand and with a deep drawl he announced, “I’m John Manard. He stopped directly in my path, eclipsing the blazing autumn sun, which created a dazzling crown of light. ![]() John’s casual stroll grayed the lines between carefree and careless, but I had no doubt that I was his target. With such a truly extraordinary and fulfilling purpose, I could not have been more oblivious to the insatiable gravity within me when John appeared from across the prison yard. ![]() Our market was families across the country who clamored for Safe Harbor Prison dogs. Toothy grins and wagging tails were my currency. In turn, the condemned dogs loved the men and instantly redecorated the spirit of the entire prison. Condemned men without worldly value brought dogs back from the brink of kill shelter inevitabilities. My kids were grown, beyond any need for me. Little did I know how intoxicating purpose could be. I jumped at the opportunity when the local prison suggested that I lead a dog rehab program. After landing on the “still breathing” side of cancer, I yearned for more. Even there, I lived in the suburbs, neither in the city center nor the rural cornfields. Heck, I was even born and raised in the geographic center of the country, in a city not so big and not so small: Kansas City. My 28-year marriage yawned I felt like my husband hardly knew I existed. Middle-aged, middle class, middle of the scale in every category … white, female, politically unaware. In 2005, I couldn’t have been more average, the center of demographic medians in the United States. She served 27 months in prison for her role in the escape, and Manard remains in prison. Her story has been featured on “Dateline” and is the inspiration behind the upcoming Lifetime movie, “Jailbreak Lovers,” as well as Dorr’s new book, “Living With Conviction.” Dorr had been helping inmates train dogs to prepare them for adoption as part of a program she founded called Safe Harbor Prison Dogs. This Friday, June 11, that story will be featured on the nighttime NBC news program, Dateline.In 2006, Toby Dorr, formerly Toby Young, made headlines after she helped convicted murderer John Manard escape from Kansas’ Lansing Correctional Facility in a dog crate. In 2006, Toby gained notoriety after helping an inmate escape from the Lansing, Kansas Correctional Facility. ![]() Toby Dorr, a former resident of Sedalia, used to go by another name, Toby Young. On Feb.įormer Sedalia Resident to Be Featured on NBC's Dateline Photo courtesy of Claudia Meyer-Samargia Set your DVRs (if people still even do that kind of thing) for this Friday night because there is an episode of Dateline you don't want to miss. Toby Dorr explains infamous Lansing prison break on Dateline this Friday Without question Toby Dorr helping a con break out of prison in a dog crate is one of our favorites if only because she "owns" her life choices and now offers ladies a fresh perspective after some time in the can.Īccordingly, here's a bit more info on her upcoming TV appearance. Apropos for #TBT we notice an old school story of prison break love has resurfaced.Įven better. ![]()
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