It was Halloween of 2018, Justice Flint-Bozeman said. Flint, who married Justin Hurdel on New Year’s Day that year, continued to smile and tell her daughter that she was fine.

Flint’s artwork and musical tastes grew darker, as she drew murals with menacing figureheads. In one of her last murals, those figures controlled the tiny resemblance of a human looming beneath them with strings.

Her musical taste digressed from bluegrass, and “Broken Windows Serenade” by Whiskey Myers became her favorite song.

“One thing that breaks my heart is my mom told me she needed help,” at a later point, Flint-Bozeman said. “She told me about it. But what (could) I do that she (hadn’t already) done?”

-Messenger photo by Elijah Decious
Maggie Flint’s children and the kids she loved as her own pose at Loomis Park as they celebrate her life after her sudden death in a shooting last week. Pictured from left are Keaton Adams, Donavon Carter, Justice Flint-Bozeman and Andrew Black.

Less than two years later, after multiple charges of domestic violence, harassment and a no contact order, Hurdel was charged with first-degree murder in the alleged Aug. 5 killing of his estranged wife, known as Maggie Hurdel during their marriage.

“My mom told me that no contact orders are only for people that follow them,” Flint-Bozeman recalled before the shooting. “That broke my heart.”

After living separately from Hurdel and trying for what her children said was about a year to get a divorce petition served, death was the annulment of their marriage. With a no contact order, home surveillance and requests submitted for more police monitoring, her children didn’t know what else could have been done on their part.

“Short of us just sitting there with a shotgun, we don’t know what else could have been done,” said Drew Marr, Flint-Bozeman’s boyfriend.

Two weeks ago, he said Flint tried to gather two signatures to commit her husband to mental health care, in part to guarantee that the divorce papers would finally be served to Hurdel.

-Submitted photo
Maggie Flint stands with her son, Donavon Carter, in an undated photo.

“We couldn’t effectively sign that knowing that he might go to jail and be out in 24 hours, and come out and do this kind of thing,” Marr said, “except (with) more than one person on his list.”

But even considering the exhaustion of their remedies before the tragedy, her children said that the shooting not only could have been prevented, but should have been prevented, frustrated by what they say is a runaround they’ve received from various actors in the criminal justice system.

Noting that the family has no intent of pursuing those actors for negligence of wrongdoing, Marr said their frustration comes from a place that needs answers in a situation where every legal opportunity at their disposal was exhausted — acknowledging that the buck has to stop somewhere.

“Every time I ask ‘why is my mom dead… why?!’ nobody gives an answer,” Flint-Bozeman said.

And with nowhere else to turn, it angers the oldest daughter to hear others blame Flint for continuing to “take back” her husband.

-Messenger photo by Elijah Decious
Justice Flint-Bozeman, whose mother Maggie Flint was killed in a shooting last week, hugs Marie Harvey, director of the Homicide/Other Violent Crimes program in Webster County at a celebration of life for Flint Friday.

“If she didn’t take him back, he’d slash her tires. He’d set her house on fire. He’d kill her,” Flint-Bozeman said.

In a criminal justice system they say ultimately failed one of the dearest people in their lives, their confidence in a fair outcome remains shaky, at best.

In February 2012, Hurdel was charged with stalking in violation of a protective order. The charge was dismissed through a negotiated agreement.

In November 2019, Hurdel was charged with third-degree harassment after a verbal altercation, when criminal complaints say he told his wife “I will kill you if you try to leave.” The charge was adjudicated as disorderly conduct and disposed with a $147.75 fine.

Twice in July, he was arrested for domestic assault involving Flint. The first time, criminal complaints say he threw his wife to the ground by her neck.

-Messenger photo by Elijah Decious
The pavilion at Loomis Park was decorated with purple ribbons Friday as a tribute to domestic violence victims in remembrance of Maggie Flint, who was shot Aug. 5.

The second time, July 20, he was charged with domestic abuse assault and ordered not to contact his wife. The day of the shooting, after criminal complaints detail that Hurdel attempted to contact Flint multiple times through text messages and phone calls, a warrant was issued for his arrest.

Two hours and 50 minutes later, the call reporting shots fired rang.

Until justice rings in the courts, Flint-Bozeman and her family said they’re making loud the only thing they can: Maggie Flint’s name. Wearing purple shirts with the hashtag #SayHerName, they refuse to let her be forgotten or remembered as a nameless statistic.

“It’s to point out that the system didn’t fail Justin, we didn’t need to remember his name,” she said after headlines with the defendant’s name buzzed in Iowa media following a 17-hour manhunt. “The system failed my mom. This isn’t the only situation that’s been like this.”

They don’t want Maggie Flint to be relegated to the memory of a woman who was killed, a woman who was shot, or someone’s wife. They want you to remember her by her name.

-Submitted photo
Showing a recent mural completed by domestic violence victim Maggie Flint, daughter Justice Flint-Bozeman explains that her mother’s artwork and musical tastes became dark in the time preceding her killing. In the photo shown, menacing figureheads loom control over a smaller figure below them with the strings attached to it. Flint-Bozeman said the menacing figures her mother drew consistently looked like Flint’s husband, Justin Hurdel.

With that name is attached beautiful memories of a woman Flint-Bozeman said was “incredible in every sense of the word.”

Described as a creative soul, the 38-year-old was an artist, musician, whittler, welder, angler and gardener. Her favorite flower was a Magnolia. She was a loyal employee at Elanco for 14 years.

“Fort Dodge should always remember Maggie for helping others,” said Andrew Black, a 17-year-old Flint took under her wing during difficult times.

“Everyone she met, she would do the most for them,” Flint-Bozeman said, armed with many examples.

After working a 64-hour work week, she painted Independence Day murals for residents at the Fort Dodge Villa Cottages.

On Friday, her family celebrated her life at Loomis Park because Flint enjoyed walking along the river to find sticks to whittle into walking sticks that she would give to others.

After her death, Maggie Flint’s reflection in others is the face Fort Dodge can put with the name.