For decades, Christa Pike was the name most Americans associated with one of Tennessee’s most notorious murder cases.

But she was not alone in those woods.

Her boyfriend was there.

He was 17 years old.

He was convicted in connection with the killing of 19-year-old Colleen Slemmer.

And according to his own account, he made decisions that night he now openly describes as horrible.

His name is Tadaryl Shipp.

Now, more than 30 years later, Shipp is talking.

He talks about the teenager he was.

He talks about loving Pike.

He talks about her nightmares.

He talks about Satanism.

He talks about why he stayed when he says he knew something had gone terribly wrong.

He talks about the death penalty.

And he talks about something Colleen’s mother has lived with for decades: a piece of her daughter’s remains that, according to the interview, is still held as evidence.

But underneath almost everything Shipp says sits one uncomfortable question.

Is this accountability?

Or is it an attempt to explain his own role in a way that makes it easier to understand?

The answer matters because Shipp is not simply remembering his adolescence.

He is a convicted participant speaking from prison, on a recorded line, while potentially facing a future parole process.

And some of the most important statements in his interview create as many questions as they answer.

“Nothing Whatsoever”

One of the first subjects Shipp confronts is Satanism.

For decades, the Pike case has been associated with disturbing imagery and claims involving Satanic beliefs.

The symbol carved into Colleen’s body became inseparable from the public memory of the crime.

Shipp does not deny his interest in Satanism.

According to the interview, he describes himself as having been an active practitioner.

He says his interest began when he was young.

He describes the philosophy as having engulfed his mindset.

He also discusses rituals, including some involving his own blood.

Yet when asked whether Satanism had anything to do with Colleen’s death, his answer is unequivocal.

No.

“Nothing whatsoever.”

That denial immediately creates tension.

Shipp is not claiming the Satanic element of his life was invented.

He is separating it from the murder.

According to him, the belief system existed.

The killing existed.

But one did not cause the other.

Whether that distinction is convincing is something the interview itself cannot establish.

It is Shipp’s account.

He Says He Expected a Fight

Shipp describes the beginning of the night very differently from its horrifying ending.

He says he knew there had been problems between Pike and Colleen.

But according to him, he did not expect anyone to die.

He anticipated words.

Possibly a fight.

Nothing more.

He portrays himself as someone who initially stayed outside what he regarded as conflict between two young women.

Then the confrontation escalated.

And kept escalating.

Shipp says there was a moment when he recognized that what was happening had crossed a line.

He specifically recalls a cut to Colleen’s back as a point when he thought:

This needs to stop.

That admission is important.

Because it means that even within Shipp’s own version, there was a moment when he understood the situation was no longer an ordinary fight.

And yet he remained.

“I Had Intent” to Stop It

Shipp is asked whether he considered intervening.

His answer is revealing.

He says he had the intention to stop what was happening.

But he did not follow through.

Instead, he describes reaching a point where he essentially decided to let events continue.

That creates one of the central contradictions in his story.

He repeatedly emphasizes how young he was.

He describes confusion.

He describes events accelerating beyond anything he anticipated.

But he also acknowledges recognizing that something was wrong while there was still time to make another decision.

He could have intervened.

He could have sought help.

He could have left.

By his own account, he did none of those things.

Colleen Almost Got Away

Then comes an even more consequential admission.

The interviewer asks about a point when Colleen nearly escaped.

Why, he is asked, did he bring her back?

Shipp does not pretend the decision was defensible.

He says that by then he understood the situation had become extremely serious.

He describes having walked away briefly.

Then, when Colleen was apparently attempting to leave, he came back.

His response is striking because he does not try to turn it into heroism or confusion.

He calls what he did horrible.

He says he is not making excuses.

But his explanation remains difficult to reconcile with his broader framing of himself as someone who never intended the violence to reach that level.

Because whatever he expected at the beginning, by this point he knew something was terribly wrong.

And he still made a decision that helped keep Colleen there.

Why Didn’t He Leave?

That question becomes the emotional center of the interview.

Why stay?

Why remain beside Pike when the confrontation had become horrifying?

Why not seek help?

Why not walk away?

Shipp gives a surprisingly personal answer.

He says he did walk down the hill.

Then he came back.

Not for Colleen.

For Christa Pike.

“I wasn’t going to abandon her.”

That idea appears repeatedly throughout his account.

Shipp says Pike had already been abandoned by too many people in her life.

He says he loved her.

He describes it now as teenage or “puppy dog” love.

But at 17, it felt absolute.

He says he was not willing to become another person who left her.

Even as the situation around them became catastrophic.

Pike’s Night Terrors

To explain that loyalty, Shipp reveals something he says he had rarely discussed publicly.

According to him, Pike suffered terrifying episodes while sleeping.

She would scream.

Cry.

Beg for someone to stop.

Shipp says he would hold her while she slept through these episodes.

At the time, he says, he did not understand them as night terrors.

He simply knew the girl he loved appeared to be suffering.

Years later, he says he learned details about Pike’s past that made some of the things she reportedly said during those episodes seem significant to him.

That convinced him the episodes were genuine.

Again, this is Shipp’s recollection.

The interview does not independently diagnose Pike or prove the cause of those episodes.

But Shipp uses the memories to explain his own psychology.

He saw himself as her protector.

That identity, he suggests, affected his decisions on the night Colleen died.

“I Was Young. I Was a Child.”

Shipp repeatedly returns to his age.

He was 17.

Looking back as an adult, he says some of his decisions were obviously foolish and wrong.

But he argues that he did not process events with an adult’s judgment.

That distinction is important.

It may help explain behavior.

It does not erase responsibility.

And Shipp himself sometimes appears to recognize that boundary.

He does not claim that being young made what he did acceptable.

Instead, he describes youth as part of why he made choices he now regards as indefensible.

The difficult question is how much explanatory weight that should carry.

His Description of Pike Becomes Stranger

Shipp then describes another behavior he associates with Pike.

He says that during intense moments, she could appear to shift into what he describes as a childlike state.

Her voice changed.

Her manner changed.

She sometimes hummed or repeated something resembling a nursery rhyme.

Shipp struggles to explain it.

He compares the behavior to a fictional character retreating into an altered internal world during violence.

He does not offer a medical diagnosis.

Nor does the interview establish one.

But he says he recognized the behavior.

And eventually, during the attack on Colleen, he says he realized:

“This ain’t going to end good.”

That statement matters.

Because once again, Shipp’s own recollection establishes awareness.

He knew the situation had become dangerous.

He remained.

The Skull Fragment

One of the most disturbing elements of the Pike case has always involved the fragment of Colleen’s skull that Pike was accused of taking from the scene.

Shipp says he did not know she had taken it at the time.

He remembers seeing Pike crouch down.

He says she told him to wait.

But according to him, he did not see what she picked up.

He remembers her humming afterward.

He says she took his hand.

Only later, he claims, did he learn about the fragment.

When the interviewer asks about reports that Pike later showed it to someone, Shipp becomes cautious.

He says he had heard something similar.

But he does not claim firsthand knowledge.

He refuses to say something happened when he cannot remember it.

That restraint is notable.

But it does not resolve the larger issue.

Shipp Turns on Shadolla Peterson

The interview becomes particularly tense when Shadolla Peterson is discussed.

Peterson was also present that night and later testified for the prosecution.

According to the transcript’s characterization, she received probation rather than imprisonment.

Shipp clearly has complicated feelings about her.

At one point, he appears relatively philosophical about decisions she made to protect herself.

Elsewhere, his tone changes dramatically.

Asked how involved Peterson really was, Shipp says:

“Everybody was involved.”

Then he adds that she deserves an “Oscar” for the performance she gave.

That is a serious allegation.

But it remains Shipp’s allegation.

The transcript does not independently establish that Peterson misrepresented her involvement.

Still, the change in Shipp’s language is important.

In one moment, he sounds like a man who has made peace with another participant’s choices.

In another, he suggests she successfully minimized her own responsibility.

Three Tensions Run Through His Story

The transcript identifies several places where Shipp’s account becomes difficult to reconcile.

The first involves Peterson.

Has he forgiven her for protecting herself?

Or does he believe she misrepresented her involvement?

Both feelings could coexist.

But the difference matters.

The second concerns the way Shipp describes the killing.

At times, he accepts its horror.

At other moments, he describes the beginning using language that sounds almost ordinary.

Arguments.

“Female” conflict.

A fight that might eventually burn itself out.

People getting a second wind.

That language can make him sound like a bystander watching a schoolyard fight rather than a participant present during an escalating killing.

That does not prove deliberate minimization.

But it is reasonable to notice the difference.

The third tension is Satanism.

Shipp says the belief system consumed a major part of his teenage identity.

He also insists it had absolutely nothing to do with the killing.

Both propositions could theoretically be true.

But the contrast naturally invites scrutiny.

He Says Pike Should Not Be Executed

Then the interview takes another turn.

Shipp is asked about Christa Pike’s death sentence.

His answer is clear.

He does not believe she should be executed.

He acknowledges that he is biased.

He loved her.

He knew her.

He believes she suffered from serious psychological problems that were not properly understood or treated when they were teenagers.

According to Shipp, life imprisonment is the appropriate punishment.

He argues that treatment earlier in Pike’s life might have changed what happened.

That is his opinion.

It is not a clinical conclusion.

But coming from her co-defendant and former boyfriend, it carries unusual emotional weight.

Especially because Pike’s lawyers have been seeking the same ultimate outcome:

Life instead of death.

Then He Talks About Colleen’s Mother

Perhaps the most unexpected part of Shipp’s interview concerns Colleen rather than Pike.

According to the transcript, Shipp believes the fragment of Colleen’s skull still retained as evidence should be released to her mother, May Martinez.

He says Martinez should be allowed to bury her daughter whole.

He characterizes continued retention of the remains as cruel to her.

The statement is difficult to hear without considering who is making it.

Shipp was convicted in connection with Colleen’s murder.

Now he is publicly arguing that part of her remains should be returned to her family.

Is that genuine compassion developed over decades?

Remorse?

An attempt to repair something that cannot be repaired?

Or is it part of a public presentation by a prisoner who knows his words may someday matter to a parole board?

The interview cannot answer that.

It can only preserve what he said.

The Recorded Prison Line Changes the Context

Shipp was not speaking privately.

According to the transcript, the call was prepaid and recorded.

A warning indicated that the conversation was subject to monitoring.

That means Shipp knew—or at least had reason to know—that his words could become public or be reviewed.

This does not prove manipulation.

Prisoners can speak sincerely on monitored calls.

But the context matters.

Especially because Shipp’s sentence reportedly includes the possibility of parole.

His public statements now become part of the record through which strangers, journalists and potentially future decision-makers may judge the person he has become.

That makes every admission more complicated.

And every sympathetic explanation more difficult to separate from self-interest.

His Interview Arrived at an Extraordinary Moment

Timing gives the interview another layer.

According to the transcript, it surfaced during the same period in which Tennessee’s attempt to execute Pike had failed and the state was facing enormous scrutiny.

The governor had ordered an independent review.

Executions had been paused through the end of the year.

The state’s prisons chief was preparing to step down.

Pike’s attorneys were seeking commutation.

Then her former boyfriend—the person who was there in 1995—publicly said she should receive life rather than death.

Whether Shipp intended it or not, his words intersect directly with Pike’s current legal argument.

But Shipp’s Story Does Not Rewrite What Happened

It is important not to confuse explanation with exoneration.

Shipp says he loved Pike.

He says he believed she was traumatized.

He says he experienced her nightmares.

He says he was young.

He says he expected a fight rather than a killing.

He says he thought about intervening.

He says he did not want to abandon her.

All of those things may help explain how Shipp now understands himself.

None changes the central fact underlying the interview.

Colleen Slemmer was 19 years old.

She was killed.

Shipp was there.

And even according to his own account, he reached multiple moments when he understood something was badly wrong.

He stayed.

“I Didn’t Follow Through”

That may be the most important sentence in the entire interview.

Shipp says he intended to stop what was happening.

Then:

“I didn’t follow through.”

Three decades later, that statement carries enormous weight.

Because so much of his account is devoted to why.

He was young.

He loved Pike.

He felt protective of her.

He had witnessed what he believed were signs of trauma.

He did not want to become another person who abandoned her.

But Colleen was the person in immediate danger.

And Shipp’s loyalty was directed somewhere else.

Whatever sympathy a listener may feel for a traumatized teenager, that fact remains extraordinarily difficult to escape.

Colleen Cannot Give Her Version

There is another imbalance in the story.

Pike has lawyers speaking for her.

Shipp can explain himself.

Peterson gave testimony.

Podcast hosts can analyze the case.

Journalists can debate it.

Viewers can leave thousands of comments.

May Martinez can speak about her daughter.

But Colleen cannot tell anyone what happened in those woods.

She cannot explain what she saw.

She cannot describe what she felt when the confrontation escalated.

She cannot answer Shipp’s version.

She cannot tell us what happened when she reportedly tried to get away.

That silence should remain at the center of every retelling.

Honesty or Strategy?

Shipp’s interview does not offer an easy answer.

Parts of it sound painfully self-aware.

He admits making terrible choices.

He acknowledges bias toward Pike.

He calls some of his teenage reasoning stupid.

He does not claim that everything was someone else’s fault.

Other portions sound more self-protective.

He repeatedly frames himself as young.

He describes the beginning as a fight that unexpectedly spiraled.

He emphasizes loyalty rather than participation.

He casts doubt on Peterson’s version.

He disconnects Satanism from the killing despite acknowledging how deeply the philosophy had influenced him.

And he makes statements that could potentially present him favorably as a future parole candidate.

None of that proves deception.

People are complicated.

A person can be remorseful and self-interested simultaneously.

He can tell the truth while unconsciously choosing language that makes himself easier to forgive.

He can genuinely care about Colleen’s mother while also knowing that expressing that concern reflects positively on him.

He can regret what happened while still minimizing pieces of his own responsibility.

Thirty years of reflection do not necessarily produce a perfectly objective narrator.

Sometimes they produce a more sophisticated one.

The Question That Remains

Shipp has now given listeners something they did not have before.

His voice.

His explanation.

His memories of Pike.

His description of why he stayed.

His rejection of the Satanic-murder narrative.

His criticism of Peterson.

His opposition to Pike’s execution.

His appeal for Colleen’s remains to be returned to her mother.

But speaking after decades does not automatically settle history.

It adds another account to it.

And perhaps that is the most revealing thing about the interview.

Shipp wants listeners to understand the 17-year-old boy standing in those woods.

He wants them to understand the girl he loved.

He wants them to understand why he did not walk away.

The person who cannot ask to be understood is Colleen Slemmer.

She was 19.

Everyone else has spent decades explaining what happened around her.

She never got the opportunity.

So the central question after hearing Tadaryl Shipp is not simply whether every detail of his story is true.

It is whether explanation should change how we judge a person who admits that he knew something needed to stop—and still chose to stay.

Maybe Shipp is remorseful.

Maybe he has genuinely changed.

Maybe some of his memories provide meaningful context that was missing from the public story.

Maybe some of his language protects the person he has to live with every day: himself.

Those possibilities can exist together.

But one statement from the interview remains harder to explain away than almost anything else.

He thought it needed to stop.

He intended to do something.

And then, in his own words:

He didn’t follow through.