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Friends: Slain Woman Led A Troubled Life

Family photo

Neighbors knew Lisa Freiberg as the devoted mother of Savannah, left, and Zachary.

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By BAIRD HELGESON

The Tampa Tribune

Published: May 17, 2008

Updated: 05/17/2008 12:14 am

LUTZ - Lisa Freiberg loved animals and her children. She hated drugs.

When she brought Edward Covington into her life, he brought drugs and took everything she loved.

Authorities say Covington killed Freiberg, her daughter Heather Savannah, 2, and her son Zachary, 7, early on Mother's Day.

Deputies say Covington choked, beat, stabbed, dismembered and mutilated the family. He apparently killed a family dog in the attack. After his arrest, he tested positive for cocaine.

"They do not deserve that," said Barbara Freiberg, Lisa's mother. "So, so unfair," said Keith Freiberg, Lisa's father.

For those who knew Freiberg, it seemed such a ghastly end for a quiet woman who grew up a mile away with loving parents in a nice home on East Lake Burrell Drive.

They wondered why such a seemingly attentive and loving mother - never known to drink alcohol or take drugs - would fill her life with men consumed by drugs and chaos.

"She was a very, very hard worker, great with kids," Keith Freiberg said. "She didn't have a lot of money, but what she had ... the kids and animals were taken care of."

Those who came to the roadside memorial of pictures, flowers and teddy bears near her home were often struck by the photograph of Freiberg as employee of the month for March at the Wal-Mart on North Dale Mabry Highway.

Her half-smile suggested pride, but she looked tired and rundown, too.

Her hair rested limply on her shoulders and she wore no makeup.

Mostly, she looked older than her 26 years.

She Always Loved Animals

Freiberg was born Oct. 6, 1981, the oldest of three children.

She surrounded herself with animals throughout her life. According to a 1997 article in The Tampa Tribune, then 15-year-old Freiberg wanted to enroll at a preveterinarian program at Gaither High School.

At the time, she had nine hermit crabs, a rabbit, a bird and two dogs.

Overcrowding kept her out of Gaither, so she attended Wharton High in New Tampa.

A year out of high school, she gave birth to Zachary, then to Savannah, as she was called by family and friends, four years later. Neighbors said Savannah's dad, Tom Fish, was much older and had a mean streak.

The four of them moved in to a mobile home owned by her parents.

This coming Tuesday would have been Savannah's birthday.

"We both noticed in my car this little handprint of Savannah is now on my glass window," Barbara Freiberg said. "That's going to stay there for a long time. It's not going to be washed off."

Home Life Often Violent

The singlewide mobile home with a makeshift addition had become dilapidated and dingy. Pieces of siding were missing from the home, while patio furniture, toys and an all-terrain vehicle cluttered the yard.

Next to her gold 1993 Ford Ranger pickup, a garbage bucket overflowed with empty Mountain Dew cans.

Fish and Freiberg fought constantly, neighbors said.

Neighbors used to call police, but the fights would end by the time the cops came.

Finally, neighbors just stopped calling.

"I kept thinking, I don't know why she would date a guy like that," said Kelly Baum, who has lived in a home behind Freiberg's property for about three years.

Back in 2005, Freiberg would leave the children home alone while she would drive around the neighborhood looking for Fish, according to claims included in a report by the Department of Children & Families.

Fish was "badly on crack," the caseworker's report states, and Freiberg "sells her food stamps to support the boyfriend's habit."

Fish denied to DCF that he used drugs.

So neighbors and friends were relieved when Freiberg and Fish broke up several months ago and he moved away.

She tried to regain her focus on her children, her job at Wal-Mart and the many pets she took care of on the property, they said.

If neighbors found a stray animal, they could always count on Freiberg to give it a home.

Over the years, she acquired rabbits, a dog and several cats. Her yard filled with cages for the various pets. For several years, she kept her horse named Skylar in the backyard. However, she was lonely, too.

"When Tom left, she didn't know what to do," said William Beale, a friend of Freiberg's who lived about a block away. "She always expected the best, and was always disappointed. But she tried to keep going, to move forward."

Moving forward usually meant another volatile relationship.

"I think she had poor self-esteem," said neighbor Shirley Rivera, 28, who lives in the home once owned by her father and grandfather. "I mean, she had really poor choices in men."

About a month ago, neighbors started to notice a guy on a motorcycle who kept visiting Freiberg's mobile home.

A new boyfriend, they thought. Maybe this time it would be different.

Neighbors Hoped For A Change

The new boyfriend's name was Eddie Covington.

Neighbors heard they'd met online, but not much else. Freiberg told people he was training to become an electrician.

Covington and Freiberg did not socialize much, mostly staying in their home or grilling out.

It wasn't long before the fighting started.

On Sunday, the day before authorities found the bodies, Baum saw Freiberg drive past the house. She looked furious and intense.

"She didn't even wave," Baum said.

Baum didn't think too much of it.

Later, she heard Freiberg yelling at Covington.

Baum was sitting on her back deck having a cigarette.

She heard a couple of loud crashes, like a sofa hitting a wall.

Then silence.

"I was scared," she said. "But then it was over."

She snubbed out her cigarette and went inside.

"I figured it was just another fight," she said. "You hear a lot of arguing in this neighborhood."

Beale and another friend, Rob Everson, suspect that Freiberg might have found out that Covington was using cocaine.

"She was dead against it," Beale said. "I think she found out what he was doing, and that was going to be that."

Said Everson: "I think he just snapped. Sometimes it just happens for no reason."

Neighbors and friends said they thought Freiberg appeared to be getting her life together.

They said she was proud of her accomplishments at Wal-Mart, and reveled in the accomplishments of her children.

As investigators removed evidence from the home this week, Freiberg's Ford pickup sat in the driveway.

On the dashboard sat an application to St. Petersburg College.

Although it's unclear what she planned to study, the school offers an accredited program for those who want to become veterinary technologists.

"She was very special, and she will always be very special. Forever and ever. So were those kids, and I miss them so much. I just want them back," Barbara Freiberg said.

"We don't know what we're going to do," Keith Freiberg said. "Because of this ... emptiness."

News Channel 8 reporter Lynn Carson contributed to this report. Reporter Baird Helgeson can be reached at (813) 259-7668 or bhelgeson@tampatrib.com.

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