The Thing About Pam: Russ Faria’s Journey Through Love and Loss

When Love Meets Cancer

Okay Nightmare Success lifters, when I talked with Russ Faria, I expected to hear about wrongful conviction and the legal nightmare that became “The Thing About Pam.” But what hit me first was something simpler and harder. Russ told me about meeting his wife Betsy at a gas station in rural Missouri, how she asked him out, and how they built a life around DJ gigs and shared music.

“She was everybody’s friend and she’d do anything she can to help anybody out,” Russ told me. “The first thing I noticed about her was her beautiful eyes and she had a great personality.”

They had their ups and downs like any couple. Infidelities. Money stress. The usual relationship storms. But by 2010, something had clicked. They’d found a church they liked, made new friends, were doing better financially. Russ said they’d “found the recipe for success in a relationship.” Things were finally working.

Then cancer showed up. Betsy was 41 when she got diagnosed in early 2010. They went through the treatments, the emotional roller coaster, the good days and bad days that come with chemo. “If you’ve known anybody that’s gone through cancer treatment, they have good days and bad days,” Russ explained. “They feel like total dog doo-doo and they don’t want to move and there’s other days when they feel like Superman or bulletproof and 10 foot tall.”

Early 2011 brought the word everyone wants to hear. Remission. Cancer free. They planned a celebratory cruise with family and friends. Life was looking up again.

The Second Diagnosis

That October, Betsy and Russ were at an out-of-town wedding when her primary doctor called. The cancer was back. This time it had spread to her liver. Inoperable. The oncologist gave them the hard truth: three to five years if they were thinking positively.

“Here we had this wonderful cruise,” Russ said, describing how they’d just celebrated remission and now faced this devastating news. But Betsy made a choice that defined who she was. She decided the November cruise would still happen. “This is still going to be a celebration of life. We’re going to have fun and we’re going to go out there and enjoy our time with our family and friends.”

They had that cruise. One month later, Russ’s worst nightmare happened.

December 27, 2011

Russ came home that evening to find Betsy’s body on the living room floor. The scene was horrific, something you’d only see in horror movies. The dog was outside, which was unusual. Everything about it was wrong.

“I don’t know of anybody else that’s ever found their loved one in such a condition and I don’t recommend it to anybody,” Russ said. “However, if you were ever found yourself in that situation, you would find that you don’t spend a whole lot of time investigating other than you see the situation and you have that fight or flight.”

He called 911 from the kitchen landline. He’d heard somewhere that calling from a landline was better for tracing than a cell phone. Later, prosecutors would call this suspicious.

The police took him outside. He never got to go back in the house after that.

Thirty Hours of Questions

At the police station, they questioned Russ for over 30 hours. He thought he was helping. He went through his entire evening multiple times, detailing every stop, every person he’d been with. What he didn’t know was that while he was talking, they were checking out his story. They spoke to his friends at different police stations. They verified the timeline. They looked at camera footage. Everything checked out.

Then they wanted him to take a polygraph test. “Well, I got nothing to hide,” Russ figured. “Sure. What the hell?” They drove him to another location. The machine “malfunctioned.” When it was over, they told him he’d failed 100 percent.

“That’s when they started throwing accusations and then at that point, you know, it’s kind of like a slap in the face,” Russ said. “That’s when I woke up and the little switch went on in my head and said, this isn’t good.”

He asked for a lawyer. Detective Raymond Floyd’s response: “As soon as they want a lawyer, that means they did it.”

They arrested him on January 4th at his mother’s house. That’s when his cousin Mary called Joel Schwartz.

Life Without Parole

The first trial lasted about a week. When the jury came back with guilty, Russ got life without parole plus 30 years for armed criminal action. In Missouri, that means if you somehow survive life without parole, you might get paroled after 30 more years.

“It’s devastating,” Russ said about hearing the verdict. “It takes all the wind out of your cells. It’s like you were expecting it to go the other way and you can hear the reactions of your family and friends behind you.”

Joel Schwartz was so appalled he cursed and left the courtroom.

Prison and the Long Fight Back

Russ went to Jefferson City Correctional Center, far enough from St. Louis that his case wasn’t well known there. He could blend in, stay anonymous. He got a job in the kitchen making religious diet meals for a dollar a day. Being Italian Sicilian and knowing how to cook earned him respect.

His cousin Mary had told him early on: “You take care of yourself and what you need to on the inside and let me take care of what’s on the outside. I got this for you.”

But the reality was stark. He’d learned about Ryan Ferguson, who spent ten years on something he didn’t do. He met Rodney Lincoln, who’d been in for over 30 years. The average appeal time in Missouri was 10 to 14 years.

“It’s like I’m going to do my best Morgan Freeman,” Russ said. “Either get busy living or get busy dying.” He chose to get busy living.

Meanwhile, Joel never stopped believing in him. While other lawyers might have moved on after conviction, Joel stayed in the fight. Cousin Mary contacted Dateline, and Keith Morrison’s team sunk their teeth into the story.

It would take years, but eventually the truth about Pam Hupp and her trail of suspicious deaths would come out. The system that had failed Russ so completely would finally, grudgingly, admit its mistake.