The Amish Stud’s Deadly Betrayal: Why Eli Weaver Plotted His Wife’s Murder
When Amish housewife Barbara Weaver was found shot to death on June 2, 2009, the tight-knit community of Apple Creek, Ohio, was left reeling. The whispers began immediately, circulating two names that would soon rock the conservative Amish world: Eli Weaver—her husband of 10 years—and Barbara “Barb” Raber, a Mennonite taxi driver who had become far more than just a friend.
A week later, the law confirmed the community’s darkest suspicions. Both Weaver and Raber were arrested and charged with aggravated murder.
Raber, convicted in September 2009, is serving 23 years to life at the Ohio Reformatory for Women, eligible for parole in June 2032. Weaver, taking a plea deal, was convicted of complicity to commit murder after testifying against Raber. His sentence? 15 years to life at Grafton Correctional Institution, with parole eligibility looming in June 2024.
“This really shook the community,” says author Rebecca Morris, speaking to A&E True Crime. “It was an almost unheard-of crime among the Amish. In 250 years, only three spousal murders had ever been recorded in the Amish world.”
A Picture-Perfect Life—or Was It?
To the outside world, Barbara Weaver had it all—a loving husband, five beautiful children, and a quiet, devoted Amish life. But beneath the surface, things were far from idyllic.
Eli Weaver, the seemingly devoted husband and owner of a hunting store, led a shocking double life. Online, he called himself the “Amish Stud,” luring women into extramarital affairs through secret cell phone conversations—an unthinkable act in their strict, tech-averse Andy Weaver Amish sect.
He left Barbara twice to live in the modern world, only to return each time when life outside proved too difficult. But as letters later revealed, Barbara had grown disillusioned. “Where did my friend, love, trustworthy husband go?” she wrote to a counselor. “He hates me to the core.”
A Deadly Alliance
Eli Weaver’s charm masked something darker—manipulation, deceit, and a shocking disregard for his wife’s life. Investigators discovered that he had tried multiple times to convince people to kill Barbara. Most dismissed it as a sick joke. But then, he found someone willing to act: Barb Raber.
In a series of chilling text exchanges, Weaver and Raber plotted Barbara’s death. Raber performed a staggering 840 internet searches on poisoning methods, contemplating everything from lacing her food to spiking her drinks. In the end, they decided on a more straightforward, brutal method: Barbara would be shot with her husband’s rifle.
On the night of the murder, Eli Weaver conveniently established an alibi—he was out fishing with friends. Meanwhile, Raber, a married woman with children of her own, had no alibi at all. Initially, she claimed she only meant to scare Barbara, that the gun “accidentally” went off. Later, she insisted she didn’t remember entering the house at all.
Her attorney tried to shift the blame back to Weaver, suggesting he had killed his wife before leaving that morning. But the evidence was clear—Raber had played her part in carrying out their twisted plan.
Why Didn’t He Just Leave?
The most haunting question remains: why didn’t Eli Weaver simply leave Barbara instead of orchestrating her murder?
“If she died, he could more easily navigate both lives,” Morris explains. “As a widower, he would have been embraced by the Amish community instead of shunned. He could keep his business, maintain his connections, and avoid the disgrace of abandonment.”
Weaver’s own lawyer, Andrew Hyde, summed it up chillingly: “If he had left, he would have been shunned. If his wife was dead, they’d pat him on the back.”
Life Behind Bars—And a Shocking Attempt at Redemption
At Grafton Correctional Institution, Eli Weaver has lived a relatively uneventful prison life. With stints as a food service worker, plumber, and maintenance aide, he seems to be adapting well.
But what’s most disturbing is his apparent lack of remorse. Weaver has attempted to reconnect with Amish women through letters—at one point even placing an ad in an Amish newsletter seeking female pen pals. His parents, disgusted by his actions, have cut ties with him entirely.
As for his children, now raised by Barbara’s sister, they live in quiet dignity, avoiding public discussion of their father’s crime. “They feel really ashamed of what happened,” says Mary Eicher, a former neighbor. “They don’t want to talk about it with outsiders.”
If Weaver is released on parole, one thing is certain—he will not be welcomed back. Amish elders have made it clear: he will be shunned for life.
Barbara Weaver was the embodiment of Proverbs 31’s virtuous woman—gentle, kind, and devoted. Her tragic murder remains a dark stain on the Amish community, a reminder that even the most seemingly innocent worlds can harbor deep, deadly secrets.
And as for Eli Weaver? The only real mystery left is how he ever thought he could get away with it.
