Something about the question "why" has resounded through the mind of former Decatur resident Travis Coffman.

He admits to being fascinated with the revealing answers that can come from the truth-prompting word.

"How do people come to be the people they are? Why do they act in a certain way? Why do they believe what they believe?" the 41-year-old asked in an e-mail from his current residence in Guam. "There is always an interesting back story and key moments in their life that form the person they become."

Coffman's key moment occured March 15, 1985, when his mother, Jon Ann Gorden Mashou, was shot to death by her husband and Iraqi native Aprem Mashou at their home on Allen Bend Drive in Decatur.

A devastating, yet significant moment for Coffman, he was able to come through the tragedy with forgiveness in his heart.

That moment became Coffman's motivation to succeed and has served as an example for other challenges that have come his way.

Coffman is the afternoon talk radio host of News Talk K-57 in Guam. He's found peace and comfort on the island with his wife, Dinah. and their three children: daughter JonAnn, 14, (named after Coffman's mother); and sons Taylor, 13, and Cain, 10.

"The weather is warm and sunny and the people are even sunnier," he said of Guam. "Family is very important out here, and there is most certainly a strong sense of community. In a way, it's not all that different from a small Midwestern town."

Coffman mostly was raised in Decatur and Moweaqua. He spent much of his childhood moving around with his family because of their father's job but eventually returned to Central Illinois.

He attended Moweaqua Junior High School and began attending Eisenhower High School in 1983 as a second-semester junior.

In 1985, when Coffman was supposed to be reveling in his last year of high school on a senior picnic with his Eisenhower High School classmates, he was instead in devastation and mourning on a witness stand testifying to his mother's murder.

Far from an open-and-shut case, authorities found it difficult to determine if Jon Ann Mashou's death was accidental or with intent. Mentioning Jon Ann Mashou's wealth and Aprem Mashou's drinking problem and the type of life the two of them had together didn't give leeway in helping decide.

Coffman said at one time he had a fondness toward "Al," the affectionate nickname Jon Ann Mashou's children gave Aprem Mashou. But Coffman began feeling doubt about Al's innocent role in the shooting after hearing testimony during the trial that gave an unsettling feeling to the reality of Jon Ann and Aprem Mashou's relationship.

"I felt betrayed by Al," Coffman said. "I had at one time actually liked the guy, and I saw why my mother liked him.

"I remember at the time initially thinking it must've been some sort of accident. And that's what I told the police. As the investigation went on though and I learned about substantial sums of money being spent and even property being sold, I began to wonder whether the incident was accidental after all."

Aprem Mashou's case went on for a little more than a month, until he pleaded guilty to the lesser crime of involuntary manslaughter, said a Herald & Review article printed April 24, 1985. He served 21 months of a four-year sentence.

With questions left unanswered, Coffman said, "If it was an accident, he got what he deserved. And if it wasn't, he'll have to answer to God."

"HE ALMOST BECAME MY BOY"

Coffman and his three siblings - an older sister and two younger twins - went to live with their grandmother in Moweaqua after their mother's death. At that time, their biological father was remarried and living in Colorado.

Coffman's grandmother, Marjorie Gorden, who still resides in Moweaqua, remembers taking in young Coffman before he went off to college and eventually Guam.

"He almost became my boy at that time," she said. "We got especially close at that time. He made this his home."

"If there is a stronger, more caring and generous woman in the world, I haven't met her," Coffman said of his grandmother. "She not only took me in after what happened but showered me with more unconditional love, support and affection than any bratty 17-year-old kid has a right to receive.

"She is truly a servant of a kind and merciful God who put me in her capable hands in my hour of need. My greatest hope is that my life and success will in some way justify her infinite patience and countless kindnesses."

Gorden remembers the deep interest her grandson would take in his school work and the sports in which he participated. There was no doubt from Gorden that Coffman was bound for success, but not necessarily in Guam.

"That's awfully far away," she said with a laugh, and then her tone softened. "Just so he gets home in awhile so we can see each other, that's the important thing.

"I'm extremely proud of him, and I know it makes him happy."

MOVING FORWARD FROM TRAGEDY

Coffman left Moweaqua for college and graduated with a bachelor's in psychology from Southern Illinois University in 1989.

He then moved to California for a while and ended up losing interest in psychology, causing him to return to his alma mater and graduate with a Bachelor of Arts in radio and television in 1991.

His first television job was in Saipan, an island in the western Pacific Ocean. There, he worked for the local government for a time writing speeches and doing public relations for Gov. Pete P. Tenorio.

Coffman moved to Guam to become a radio talk show host, a position he still holds today. He hosts the afternoon program "The Big Show," which is a call-in radio program that focuses on local news, politics and pop culture.

Events that took place more than 20 years ago, Coffman believes, have contributed greatly to the person he is today.

"I do believe my mother's death drove me to succeed," he said, "in that I always felt that it was one of the worst things that could happen.

"Whenever life has presented me challenges since, and it has, believe me, part of the strength that I found to overcome those challenges was that I was able to move on after her death, which for a while didn't seem possible. It showed me that no matter what life throws at you, you have to at some point stop moping around, pick up the pieces and move on."

This has become an adage of Coffman's life as he's faced more of life's obstacles.

Two of his children, Cain and Taylor, have been diagnosed with autism, of which Coffman and his wife have addressed by enrolling the boys into schools that will meet their needs and aid in their development.

Another challenge from early this year hit Coffman fairly hard, but he's dealing with it the best way he knows how. Coffman was diagnosed with an early form of multiple sclerosis, a degenerative disease of the central nervous system.

Coffman reports he has some weakness on his right side, but "everything else is OK," and he intends to fight back.

"Rather than sit around feeling sorry about my situation, I'm doing everything I can to improve my health and continue to do the things I do best," he said. "Self-pity is useless. Survival is all about action."

FORGIVE AND LET GO

Life has taught Coffman how to build strength on top of strength and take on trials with authority and action.

Though thoughts about Decatur can prompt memories of his mother's murder, for the most part, Coffman said, he has fond memories of the city. But there are still some things he prefers to leave in the past.

"I have to admit, I thought about driving by our old house in South Shores and decided against it," he said, "better to let some things go."

Ultimately, it was forgiveness that allowed Coffman to move on.

He said the tragedy of his mother's death probably would have continued to eat away at him if it wasn't for a dream he had when he was a teenager.

Coffman said his mother came to him in a dream and told him he needed to forgive Aprem Mashou.

"With tears in my eyes, I asked her, 'Mom, where have you been? I thought you were dead?' " he said, describing the words exchanged between him and his mother in the dream. "She smiled and in words I don't remember confirmed that she had been killed, but told me, 'You have to forgive him.' I asked her, 'Did he kill you on purpose?' She smiled and answered, 'It doesn't matter. You have to forgive him.'

"Vision from beyond or my own mind trying to help me resolve my own internal agony, I couldn't tell you," he said. "I will say thanks to that dream I was able to forgive him, and I have had peace ever since.

"I like to think it was my mom reaching out to me from heaven. It makes for a happier ending to the story, too."

Alicia Spates can be reached at aspates@herald-review.com or 421-6986.