Belinda Niebuhr: The end of a chapter

Belinda Niebuhr used to tell her children, "just because it's the end of the chapter doesn't mean it's the end of the story," her daughter Kayleigh Patterson said.

Niebuhr knew all about endings - and beginnings. Life was not an easy ride for her. Hers was an uphill battle with the occasional downhill slide, but she was a woman equipped with the ability to pick up and start over.

A new start was the reason Niebuhr moved to Moscow eight years ago - a new start with an old love.

And it was working out.

"Things really weren't too good for her here in Sacramento," her mother, Connie Smith, said. "When she went up there she turned her life around. I was so very proud."

Niebuhr was 47 years old when she died of gunshot wounds she suffered at the Arby's she managed on West Pullman Road in Moscow on Jan. 10, 2015, during what appears to have been a shooting spree in three locations by alleged killer, Moscow resident John Lee, that left two others dead and one seriously wounded.

Born Belinda Smith in Aberdeen, Wash., in 1967, Niebuhr spent the first weeks of her life in a Seattle hospital, where doctors worked to repair an intestinal obstruction, before going home with her mother and new stepfather - James Smith.

Before Niebuhr had reached school age, the family had established itself in West Sacramento, Calif.

"She was a really good daughter," James Smith said. "She grew up with four siblings, they hung together, got into mischief together. We always had a pretty close knit family."

It wasn't until high school that life became complicated.

Niebuhr was 15 when she became pregnant with her first child, and 16 when she married Norman Niebuhr. The couple had two children - Andria and Shannon - before separating and eventually divorcing years later.

That was when she met Don Fristoe.

The two were introduced by a mutual friend who lived near both of them.

"The first time I seen her I fell in love with her," Fristoe said.

The two entered a relationship that lasted three years before parting ways.

"I hadn't talked to her for years after that," he said.

After their separation, Niebuhr and Fristoe moved forward with their lives, each marrying and having children - and in Fristoe's case moving to Idaho to be nearer to his wife's father.

It wasn't for nearly two decades, after Fristoe was divorced and Niebuhr was widowed, that the two reconnected.

It began with a phone call from the same mutual friend in Sacramento.

"I was sitting here after work and my phone rang and my buddy Larry goes, 'Hey Don, there's somebody here who wants to talk to you,' " he said. "I never thought I'd talk to Belinda ever again."

Fristoe said Niebuhr had been going through a rough time. She had left an abusive boyfriend, was waiting tables in a bar and her three youngest children were in her parents' custody.

Fristoe said he suggested she come to Moscow for a two-week visit.

"She seen the way living was up here compared to down there in Sacramento, Calif., and she didn't want to leave. So after 18 years of not seeing her she was back in my life again," he said.

Patterson, now 17, said she remembers her mother's move to Idaho.

"When she first moved up there with Donald, she told me on the phone it was like they'd never been apart, like nothing had ever changed. She said they fell in love all over again," Patterson said.

Fristoe said Niebuhr had been in Moscow about nine months when she began working at Arby's on Pullman Road - and began working her way up.

"She got off the plane with a suitcase full of clothes and that was it," he said. "When it was all said and done she had a brand new car and she was top dog at Arby's."

Niebuhr's new start may have been going smoothly, but there was one thing she missed - being near her children and grandchildren.

"Her next goal here was to get her custody of her kids after she had established herself," Fristoe said.

In the meantime, she channelled her maternal energies to include not only long-distance relationships with her own children, but also being a stepmother to Fristoe's daughters, Raelynn and Annabelle, and caring for her employees at Arby's.

"She always identified with being a mom," Patterson said. "She loved being the Arby's mom, and she loved being my mom."

Patterson said Niebuhr's parenting style ran to the nontraditional, but was extremely effective.

"She was a great mom, but she was more like a friend than a mom to me," she said. "If I did something wrong she would talk to me about it, but it wasn't all discipline. She was a strong feminist and raised us to be feminists."

Patterson said she had a photo that describes her mother's personality and parenting style to perfection.

"We have a picture of her when she came down for my graduation last year. She kept trying to make me smile for pictures, but I was being a brat and making every face but a smile. In the picture she looks like she wants to smack me upside the head, but you can tell she's also trying not to laugh," Patterson said.

Patterson said Niebuhr would use her life story to show both her children, employees and others that current troubles didn't dictate future successes.

"She believed if she shared her story it could help others make the right decisions in their lives," Patterson said. "She started out waiting on customers and ended up having her own Arby's store. She was very proud of herself for that."

"She had everything going and somebody took that from us," Fristoe said.

In the five months since the loss of their daughter, mother, stepmother and fiance, Belinda Niebuhr's family members keep moving forward. They attend work and school, do what needs to be done and can speak of her with as many smiles as tears, depending on the day.

"She's sitting here with us right now," her mother, Connie Smith, said, alluding to a living room display in her Sacramento home containing Niebuhr's photo, name badge and other favorite things. "She's looking down at this family right now."

Fristoe said he believes someday he'll begin to move on, but not for some time.

"This is something I'll carry with me for a long time," he said. "She's in my thoughts every day. A song will come on and I'll start thinking of her."

Fristoe said he has a photo of Niebuhr in his living room that he responds to differently on different days.

"Sometimes I smile, and sometimes I cry," he said.

"The 10th will be five months since this happened, and it seems it happened yesterday to me," he said.

Shanon Quinn can be reached at (208) 883-4636, or by email to squinn@dnews.com.

This is the 15th in a yearlong series of "Too Young" stories, which celebrate the lives and examine the deaths of those few who die in Whitman and Latah counties before reaching 50 years of age.