The Castle Doctrine
Little Falls, Minnesota, was a small town with a tight-knit population of just under 8,000, nestled on some of the northernmost banks of the Mississippi River. Sixty-four-year-old Byron Smith’s Elm Street home, a secluded haven surrounded by towering pine trees, was just mere steps from the river’s edge.
Smith lived alone and had never been married. A very private person by nature, many townspeople in Little Falls thought of him as a recluse who kept mostly to himself, often posting “keep out” signs at the entrance to his property. Others who knew Byron and his backstory of being a war hero and security expert thought of him as a friendly neighbor who just wanted to be by himself.
Byron Smith had spent his entire life around guns and could often be found in his backyard, shooting rounds into targets placed along his property. Yet, despite the distance separating him from his nearest neighbors, police often received complaints hinting at the ever-looming possibility of a stray bullet finding an unintended mark, possibly hitting a child playing at the nearby baseball complex.
Throughout his life, Byron Smith’s job had kept him moving around, and by the time he had retired and inherited the home in Little Falls from his parents, he didn’t have many friends nearby. Although he had originally grown up in Little Falls, most of his childhood friends had long since moved away.
Years earlier, Smith had served in the Air Force, including a tour in Vietnam. His exemplary service had earned him several medals and commendations, and he had also received electrical engineering training during his time in the military.
After leaving the Air Force, Smith transitioned to a position with Hughes Aerospace in California. While working, he simultaneously pursued an engineering degree at Cal Poly, juggling his job responsibilities with his studies.
Smith then moved on to work for the United States State Department, where he worked as a technical security engineer. This position afforded him the opportunity to travel the globe, undertaking assignments at various U.S. Embassies worldwide where he designed, installed, and monitored intricate security systems.
Smith traveled extensively to Bangkok, Cairo, Beijing, Moscow, and numerous other locations. As he rose through the ranks, he eventually found himself supervising teams of more than fifty employees. His primary responsibility was to safeguard U.S. Embassies against the threat of international espionage and terrorism.
This role demanded an exceptionally high level of security clearance, necessitating rigorous background checks and mental health screenings. Additionally, proficiency in surveillance techniques was essential to his duties.
* * *
In his late fifties, after decades with the State Department, Byron Smith finally retired to his small hometown but found it had changed drastically. Much to his dismay, he discovered that the once-charming small town had fallen prey to a pervasive wave of teenage drug use, as well as the theft and crime that goes along with it.
Smith struggled to accept that, after spending his whole life keeping bad people out of high-security places, he now had to protect his simple country home from teenagers using drugs.
* * *
During the six years since his retirement, Byron Smith's secluded home, nestled away from the road, had fallen victim to burglary on multiple occasions. While the thieves hadn't made off with anything of substantial value except for a few guns, the mere fact that someone had violated his privacy and rummaged through his possessions left him feeling disheartened.
Despite his extensive background in security, Smith lived in constant fear that a drug-addled teenager might attempt to break into his house while he was at home. To mitigate this anxiety, he instructed his neighbors to ring the doorbell twice in succession if they ever visited. This served as a signal that it was safe for him to open the door.
After each break-in, Smith bit his tongue and didn’t report it to police, hoping they would eventually stop on their own. However, the break-ins just kept happening.
In October 2011, while Smith was away from his home, an intruder forcefully kicked in his door. Unlike previous incidents, this time the thief made off with items of both monetary and sentimental value. The stolen loot amounted to over ten thousand dollars, including an antique camera, valuable coins, a shotgun, electronics, a chainsaw, and four thousand dollars in cash. However, the loss cut deeper, as some items held profound personal significance, such as a watch awarded to his father for enduring captivity as a Prisoner of War in World War II and several medals earned by Smith himself during his service in Vietnam.
Fed up with the recurring burglaries, Smith finally acted and reported the break-in to the police. He also enlisted the help of a neighbor to assist with installing a security system in his house—something he had spent his life doing but never imagined he would need to do in his own home. Still, despite the added security measures, Smith continued to grapple with fear, haunted by the possibility of the intruders returning, potentially armed with the guns they had stolen.
Ironically, the installation of the video and audio monitoring system only worsened Smith's anxiety. He found himself frequently glued to the screens, anxiously scanning for any sign of intrusion. The fear of a drugged-out teenager breaking in weighed heavily on him, causing him to become increasingly apprehensive about leaving his home unattended.
Smith's paranoia reached such heights that he habitually wore a handgun holstered to his hip, even while inside the confines of his own home. Furthermore, he stockpiled a substantial supply of granola bars and water bottles in the basement, envisioning it as a potential refuge should the need arise to use it as a bunker.
* * *
On Thanksgiving Day, 2012, Byron Smith received an invitation from a neighbor to join them for Thanksgiving dinner. However, Smith had become so reclusive that he hesitated to leave his house unattended, fearing another break-in. Aware that the intruder likely anticipated his absence on such a holiday, Smith made a deliberate decision to stay put, determined to thwart any potential burglary attempt.
While outside early on Thanksgiving morning, he saw a young girl he suspected had been behind the previous break-ins driving slowly past the driveway of his home. Later that morning, Byron Smith devised a cunning plan. He drove his truck out from his driveway and parked it in front of a neighbor's house, creating the illusion that he wasn’t home.
Sneaking back through the woods to his house, he strategically positioned his reading chair between two bookcases in a shadowy corner of the basement, giving him a clear view of anyone descending the basement stairs. He then unscrewed all the lightbulbs throughout the house except for a dim reading light near his chair and placed a .22 caliber revolver and a Ruger Mini-14 rifle by his side.
Smith then turned on a digital audio recording device. As he sat in the dark, he recorded his thoughts and waited patiently for the intruders.
* * *
While most families in Little Falls were sitting down for a turkey dinner, eighteen-year-old Haile Kifer and her seventeen-year-old cousin Nicholas Brady were looking for a house to break into. Despite their young age, the two teens had been breaking into homes throughout Little Falls to steal items they could sell to buy drugs.
Haile, a lifelong resident of Little Falls, was in her senior year of high school and excelled in sports while juggling multiple jobs in town. Despite being a role model for many, she had recently battled drug addiction. Similarly, her cousin Nicholas was well-liked in the community and earned a decent income working with his father's tree trimming business. Unfortunately, he had also faced struggles with substance abuse.
* * *
Smith’s security cameras, hidden from view, picked up Nicholas Brady walking around the house just after noon on Thanksgiving, looking for an easy entry point.
Byron Smith sat in the dark and whispered to himself, “In your left eye.”
Smith continued speaking into his digital recorder as if he were practicing a conversation he planned to have with his brother:
“Stop by tomorrow, Bruce. No rush, but whenever’s convenient. Park to the north. One hundred yards north of the corner, walk in from the west. I realize I don’t have an appointment, but I would like to see one of the lawyers here.”
Despite the outward appearance of random murmurs, Smith's whispered words were far from aimless: They were a deliberate rehearsal of the explanations and statements he intended to deliver to lawyers and law enforcement personnel following the execution of his plan.
Moments later, his audio recording picked up the sound of breaking glass on the main level of the house above him. He knew the intruder was now inside. Smith clicked off his reading light, sat silently, and waited patiently.
After twelve minutes of scouring Smith’s home looking for something to steal, Nicholas Brady opened the basement door. Flicking the light switch on the wall, he was met with darkness. Slowly, Nicholas descended the stairs one step at a time.
As Nicholas came into view, Smith aimed his Ruger and unleashed two shots, striking Nicholas in the torso. Nicholas Brady tumbled down the remaining stairs, collapsed on the carpet below, and began bleeding out. Smith then approached Nicholas, standing over him. As Nicholas instinctively raised his hand in a futile attempt to shield himself, Smith fired once more, the bullet piercing through his finger before administering the fatal shot to his head. Smith then said to the dead boy, “You’re dead.”
Unfazed by the harrowing events, Smith methodically continued his plan, all while his audio device captured the eerie scene. He made taunting remarks to the boy’s body as he carefully spread out a green camouflage tarp on the floor and moved Nicholas' lifeless body onto it. With grim determination, he dragged the body into another room within the basement, concealing it from view. He then used a throw rug to cover the blood and brain matter that had soiled his carpet at the bottom of the stairs.
As Nicholas had tumbled down the stairs, his shoes had flown off his feet and now lay abandoned on the basement floor. Smith, with a quiet sense of purpose, retrieved the sneakers and tucked them neatly under his reading chair before walking back upstairs.
* * *
Fifteen minutes later, Smith's realization struck: Nicholas wasn't alone. As he faintly heard a female voice calling out, "Nick?" through the broken bedroom window, Smith stealthily descended the basement stairs again, reloaded his rifle, and settled back into the shadowy reading chair. With unwavering resolve, he remained prepared for the second intruder.
Smith sat in silence as Halie Kifer quietly descended the stairs. Again, without even seeing Haile’s face or if she was armed, Smith shot her in the back.
Haile screamed as she tumbled down the stairs. With Haile injured at the bottom of the stairs, Smith tried to shoot again, but his rifle jammed, “Oh, sorry about that,” he said. Smith would later claim that Haile had laughed at him because his gun jammed, but no laughter was caught on his recording device—only screams and pleas.
As Haile screamed, “No, no!” Smith grabbed his revolver, shot her again, and screamed, “You’re dying! Bitch!” When he saw Haile was still squirming on the rug at the bottom of the stairs, he continued shooting. One shot went through her left eye, as he had mentioned in an earlier recording. After six shots, Haile was still gurgling and clinging to life. Smith verbally berated her before putting his revolver to her chin, aiming up toward her cranium, and pulling the trigger.
Byron Smith then dragged Haile’s bullet-riddled body into the side room and piled her on top of her dead cousin’s body.
* * *
For hours after the killings, Byron Smith sat isolated in his basement, whispering into his digital audio recorder, chastising the teens he killed, practicing what he would tell police, rationalizing his actions, and letting his thoughts wander aimlessly.
“Cute. I’m sure she thought she was a real pro.”
“No rush but, you know, when it’s convenient for you. ... I feel a little safer. ... I feel totally safe. I’m still shaking a bit.”
“It’s all fun… cool… exciting, and highly profitable until somebody kills you.”
“I was doing my civic duty. ... They messed with the wrong person, I had to do it.”
“They weren’t human. I don’t see them as human.”
”I am not a bleeding-heart liberal. I felt like I was cleaning up a mess. Not like spilled food. Not like vomit. Not even like diarrhea. The worst mess possible.”
“Because I try to be a decent person, they think I’m a patsy. I’m a sucker. They think I’m there for them to take advantage of.”
“I refuse to live with that level of fear in my life.”
Smith continued to ramble about how, if the intruders had been caught and prosecuted, they would have been released after only six months of jail time, saying, “I cannot live like that. I cannot have that chewing on me forever.”
At the end of the recording, he rambled to himself about an imaginary death threat, saying, “I gave you a copy of a death threat. I expect you to do something about it.”
* * *
Not wanting to bother police during the holidays, Byron Smith sat with the two dead bodies in his basement until the next day before contacting anyone.
Initially, he called a neighbor and asked him to call a lawyer, but he wouldn’t tell him why. Only saying, “I blew the top off the break-ins down here.” The friend called around, but it was the day after Thanksgiving, and every law office in town was closed. Smith then asked the friend to contact the police and have them send a Sergeant to his house.
When the Morrison County Sheriff’s Department arrived at Smith’s residence, they initially believed they were investigating a routine break-in. However, they knew something was wrong when Smith greeted them outside his home with his hands raised in surrender.
Smith then told them there had been another break-in, led them into the house, and showed them the point of entry—the broken window in his bedroom.
However, upon accompanying Smith to the basement, officers were confronted with a chilling sight: blood stains smeared across the stairwell walls, and a pool of blood gathered at the foot of the stairs. Instantly, they realized the situation was far more sinister than they had anticipated.
Smith then led officers to a closed door in the basement, pointed to it, and said, “The bodies are behind here.”
* * *
When officers saw the bodies of the two popular high school students, they immediately took Byron Smith into custody and charged him with second-degree murder.
Smith wasted no time and calmly told investigators the entire story.
“I was in the basement in my favorite reading chair reading a paperback, and I see a shadow go past the picture window. And then somebody’s rattling the basement door trying to get in. But it’s also locked and deadbolted.”
Smith told investigators that he watched on his newly installed surveillance cameras as two intruders jiggled door handles and put their faces up to his windows to look inside. He said he then heard a window break, and he panicked and grabbed his two guns.
“So I’m sitting there and I hear the steps coming down the hallway, and come down the stairs. These are people who have stolen my guns. I figured they're willing to use guns if they steal guns. I decided that I’ve got a choice of either shooting or being shot.”
“I'm not gonna wait until she shows it. I knew that they were both gun thieves. As far as I was concerned, they were totally dangerous.”
“After I shot him, I sat down in this chair, and I was just tingling—adrenaline. I hate adrenaline. And my blood was pounding in my ears, and I just wanted to calm down more than anything else.”
“And I hear more footsteps coming down the hallway, and somebody else starts down the stairs. I just couldn’t think. I didn’t think. I wasn’t thinking. I was just… they’re ganging up on me. So I killed her, too.”
Smith claimed that when he positioned the revolver under Haile’s chin and aimed up toward her cranium, it was a mercy killing, saying, “I gave her a good clean finishing shot. She gave out the death twitch.”
When asked why he didn’t immediately call the police, he said, “Just because my Thanksgiving’s screwed up, I don’t need to screw up yours.”
Toxicology reports later revealed that Haile Kifer had both marijuana and the chemical components of cough medicine in her system. The substances were present at levels sufficient to cause intoxication and potentially induce hallucinations.
In his mind, Byron Smith had justified the lives he had taken. Even though the two teenagers weren’t armed, he believed he had the right to protect himself inside his own home.
* * *
The Castle Doctrine is a legal principle in many jurisdictions that allows individuals to use force, including deadly force if necessary, to defend their homes, property, or sometimes their vehicles against intruders or attackers. The doctrine is based on the idea that individuals have the right to protect themselves and their homes from imminent threat or harm without the obligation to retreat. In essence, it gives individuals the legal right to defend their "castle" from intruders without fear of prosecution under certain circumstances. However, the specifics of the Castle Doctrine vary from state to state and, in most states, exclude the use of excessive force.
Byron Smith’s case was very controversial in Minnesota. Many believed Smith had every right to protect himself within his own home. Others, however, believed he could have handled matters in another manner that didn’t involve shooting two unarmed teenagers nine times.
Minnesota prosecutors contended that Byron Smith had overstepped boundaries. They argued that Smith's actions did not constitute self-defense; rather, he had meticulously set a trap and resorted to excessive force. Smith had intentionally concealed his truck that morning to entice Haile and Nicholas to his home. Furthermore, he had laid in wait as if he were hunting deer and fired upon them without certainty of any physical threat. Most concerning was his repeated firing into their heads at point-blank range, even after realizing they were unarmed and no longer posed a threat.
* * *
Smith's trial began on April 21st, 2014, and concluded after just a few days, with the jury beginning deliberations on April 29th. Astonishingly, it took the jury a mere three hours to reach a verdict. Byron David Smith was found guilty on two counts of first-degree murder and received a life sentence in prison without the possibility of parole.
One juror commented,
"The audio recording of the actual killings pretty much convinced me that we were dealing with a deranged individual."
Despite Smith's lawyers filing an appeal to the Minnesota Supreme Court, the previous ruling was upheld. This was a decision that a Federal Appeals Court also affirmed.
On November 20th, 2020, nearly eight years after the Thanksgiving Day killings, Smith lodged an appeal with the Supreme Court of the United States. However, his appeal was ultimately denied on March 22, 2021.
The jury of public opinion is still divided on the case of Byron Smith. Social media pages have emerged advocating for Smith's freedom, with one Facebook page dubbing him a hero. Commenters on the page defended Smith's actions, describing Haile and Nicholas as troublemakers and suggesting that the tragedy could have been avoided if they had just stayed home. Conversely, other commenters condemned Smith as a cold-blooded murderer and urged for his continued incarceration. Despite conflicting opinions, jurors unequivocally labeled Smith as a murderer.
