A Solution To Violent Crime-Parental Guidance Suggested

I would be remiss if not a full blown hypocrite if I did not address the acts of depravity committed daily here in my own city. The word depravity means moral corruption or wickedness. What act of moral corruption or wickedness is there greater than that of a parent disregarding his responsibilities to a child? The senseless violence that has permeated Chicago neighborhoods as well as neighborhoods around the country can be traced directly back to the lack of not only a positive male role model within the home and in the community, but the lack of a family unit at all.

As an advocate for prison reform I have and will continue to point out injustices throughout our legal system, however as a man first and foremost I will call it how I see it. For the most part, perpetrators of inner city violent crime are not forty something males. Old men aren’t riding around with their buddies gunning up public parks. Young adults and teenagers, (more specifically young males) are the trigger pullers, but the accomplices are the men & women that brought them into being. How, one may ask? There are great responsibilities in becoming a parent. Parents play a direct role in whatever their children become; positive or negative. When parents are not actively participating in the development of their children; someone or something else will. Whether its music videos, video games, neighborhood drug dealers or other children, the void will be filled.

As with most crime, inner-city violence is committed in areas that the perpetrator is familiar with. The serial killer plots his attack against members of his own community, not only because he is easily camouflaged but also because of his ability to remain close to that which he despises. The same applies to inner city violence. A young man grows to loathe his current socio-economic situation. Without positive familial reinforcement, he seeks that what is lacked in the home from the streets. In the streets the young man acquires a warped sense of morality, justice and values from other like-minded youths.

Several parents have abandoned proven effective traditional methods of raising children and embraced time outs or becoming our child’s friend. Other parents have given up “parenting”, all together allowing children to simply “grow up” forcing them to deal with the harsh realities of life on their own. Many parents have turned away from their own morally sound upbringing to indulge in lifestyles that accentuate the pleasures of “immediate gratification,” thereby destroying the likelihood of establishing a respectful parent-child relationship. These factors, combined with the massive numbers of fathers that are currently incarcerated, create a climate ripe for the senseless violence that we see, read & hear about today.

The socio-economic stresses attached to inner city life can be challenging but not insurmountable. The challenges are increased when a child has to face the world without the vital tools for success that only caring parents can provide. Needing support to handle day to day struggles, the child turns to his peers for assistance. Misguided youth become misguided young adults who are ready, willing and able to misguide their peers as well as other youths in the community. Parents have allowed themselves to be replaced by these peers, as well as, by various forms for entertainment such as video games, television and music lyrics. Through constant exposure to these forms of media that emphasize misogyny, violence and indifference toward life and without responsible parents to enforce the value of true morality and work ethics, the child forms a warped, “code of ethics.”

The lack of parental guidance denies a child of the ability to deal with day to day obstacles in a rational manner. The ability to use logic instead of emotions to solve problems is a skill that falls within a parent’s scope of duties. Without the capability to apply logic to a difficult situation and arrive at a reasonable conclusion, the emotionally charged child engages in a violent confrontation often ending in tragedy for an innocent victim.  

Emotionally Charged Youth May Mean Tragedy for Innocent Victims

Without self-respect, success of any type is unattainable.  A child that does not respect himself cannot and will not respect parents or authority figures. If the child continues on this self-destructive path of disrespectful behavior, negative contact with law enforcement is inevitable. It is these young people; lacking the respect for self and others and possessing a false sense of entitlement, that commit the majority of community based violent crime. Self-respect, or the child’s lack of it, falls squarely upon the shoulders of the parents. Self-respect creates strong moral character; strong moral character prevents many incidents of senseless violent crime from ever being committed.

Community based violence is the result of many components; I would dare to say that most, if not all, can be traced back to ineffective parenting.  It would interest me to see just how many of the perpetrators actually come from homes where both parents had an active role in their childhood development. Parents must regain the power that they have given to the streets, the TV and the radio by becoming parents again. The only way to end the violence that infect our communities is for parents to not just talk but to show children through their actions that true success must be attained through education and work. Morality & integrity cannot be found in the street and are not the responsibility of teachers and schools but must be addressed in the home. Respect of self and of others cannot be found in books but must be conveyed from the hearts & minds of parents to their children. To solve the problem of violence in our neighborhoods, parents must raise their children instead of allowing them to simply grow up, therefore, in an effort to save our communities; parental guidance is suggested.

THIS JUST IN..... IT IS NOW LEGAL TO SHOOT BLACK MALES AT WILL

“NOT GUILTY” Verdict in Florida has Affirmed the Legality of the Profiling & Murdering of African-American Men

Saturday, July 13, 2013; a Florida jury of 6 women has affirmed that it is legal and recommended that white men feel free to instigate a fight, lose the fight then shoot unarmed Black men. In one of the worst miscarriages of justices in American history, George Zimmerman has been acquitted in his shooting of unarmed child, Trayvon Martin. The 6 person jury found that Zimmerman was within his rights to disobey 911 orders, stalk, engage in a fight then ultimately murder a child of color. A dismal cloud of grey hangs over Florida and over America. The just us membership has once again flexed the power of its membership against the African-American people.

Contributing to this travesty was a piss poor attempt by the prosecuting attorneys of Seminole County. At no point, during the course of this trial did the prosecutors even attempt to tell the court or the world the real story. What was told, were the ridiculous accounts of the murder that Zimmerman gave to police and to the media. His lies and inconsistencies were obvious to all those who have paid the slightest amount of attention over the last year and a half. Standing idly by as the defense twisted the truth, the prosecutors did nothing to present any semblance of a sincere effort to find justice for the slain youth. The prosecution simply “threw the fight,” and allowed a child murderer to remain free.

As the wheels of the judicial system continue to turn and grind the African-American people, we can now add one more injustice into the annals of American history. As the system continues to use the “War on Drugs,” for the mass incarceration of Black men, we are continually reminded for whom this country’s justice system was designed. On February 26, 2012, in Sanford, Florida an unarmed child lay slain in the rain, Trayvon’s soul cried out for justice; justice that is supposed to be blind. On Saturday, July 13, 2013 lady justice regained her sight and said,” no matter how far you THINK you’ve come, Black man, justice is not now, never have been and will never be for you, Black man, just us”.

Slain Youth; Trayvon Martin

Shooter: George Zimmerman

The Despicable Acts of The Wannabe Mom

The most beautiful event in the world is the birth of a child, in stark contrast, the most evil and despicable act in the world is the murder of a child. As I read & research various topics to post here for your enlightenment & enjoyment, I came across an act so inherently evil that there must be a special place in hell reserved for this woman. Even if souls of the condemned were to fill Hades into no occupancy status there will be a room filled with the hottest fire and brimstone set aside with the name Tiffany Hall boldly emblazoned on the threshold.

Tiffany Hall and Jimella Tunstall had been the best of friends. Having grown up together and attended the same schools, the two were thought to be inseparable. As many young women do, both girls had begun creating families early in their adulthood. Despite previous issues with her own children, Hall was a trusted baby-sitter to Tunstall's children. On September 15, 2006, this friendship came to a tragic end.

During a routine visit all hell broke loose when Tiffany Hall viciously attacked Tunstall with a table leg. Hall beat Tunstall mercilessly in the head with the table leg until she was unconscious. She then duct taped her mouth, hands & feet and drug her incapacitated friend to the bathroom, laid her in the tub then proceeded to remove the unborn fetus from her abdomen. Using a pair of scissors, Hall performed a crude Caesarean section on Tunstall. The procedure proved fatal for both mother and child.  The child was stillborn and Tunstall bled to death in the bathtub. Hall then wrapped the corpse of her deceased friend in a shower curtain and hid her in a plastic container in the basement. Eventually Hall dragged the body outside and left her in to a lot with high weeds behind the house where she was found.

Unsure of what to do with the deceased fetus, Hall contacted the police in Frank Holten Park in East St. Louis. Hall told the officers that she had gone into labor and gave birth to a stillborn child. Her story to one officer is that she had gone in to labor during a rape; another officer was told that the miscarriage came while engaging in consensual sex. At the hospital, the baby showed no signs of trauma and Hall would not let doctors examine her.

Three days later, Hall visited the father of two of Tunstall's children and the unborn child. The father was caring for all the children. Hall told the father that Jimella sent her to pick up the children and her vehicle. Knowing about the years of friendship between the two women, the father didn’t think twice about releasing them to her care. Hall brought the children to Tunstall’s home where she proceeded to drug them and killed them one by one. Under the pretense of giving them a bath, Hall drowned each of them, DeMond Tunstall, 7, Ivan Tunstall-Collins 2, and Jinella Tunstall, 1; in the same tub that their mother met her untimely demise in. She hid their dead bodies in a washer and dryer in the apartment.

Under the impression that he was about to be a father, Hall’s boyfriend returned from active duty in the Navy to attend what he thought was his child’s funeral. Naming the baby, Taylor Horn, Hall made funeral arrangements with L. King Funeral Chapel. According to records, Hall called the funeral home minutes after services were to start, asking if she could reschedule for a different day so more relatives could attend. At the time of the call, only two people were in attendance. Hall herself showed up two hours late, ultimately signing an affidavit for the funeral home stating that the child was hers. It was during the funeral that Hall confided with her boyfriend that the child wasn’t his nor hers and that she in fact had killed her friend and taken her baby. She was arrested after he reported the confession to police.

Upon her arrest Hall confessed to the police about the murder of Tunstall. She was arraigned and held on $5 million dollar bond. Her arrest prompted an immediate search for the 3 children. After receiving a tip police questioned Hall again; she then admitted murdering the children also. The bodies of the children were found in Ms. Tunstall’s washer & dryer.  In an effort to keep Hall off of death row she entered a guilty plea in a deal that allows her to avoid the death penalty. Tiffany Hall was sentenced to life in prison without the possibility of parole.

Invisible Prisoners: Why Are So Many Children, Especially Girls, Placed in Solitary Confinement?

Invisible Prisoners: Why Are So Many Children, Especially Girls, Placed in Solitary Confinement?

Who Stole The Real Out of Rap?

As a 43 year old, I was around during the infancy of rap & the birth of the hip Hop culture on a whole. The edge that made rap music what it was in the 70’s & 80’s and its ability to flourish over the years is that the music itself originated under the ideals of realness. Rappers such as Africa Bambatta, Kurtis Blow and songs such as ‘The Message” brought the day to day struggles of urban life to the masses across the nation & around the world. Not just within the entertainment industry, but the whole state of mind among inner city African Americans at that time caused the generation to adopt the moniker of “Keep it Real,” to be the slogan for the time.

It was the realness of rap music that appealed to the youth and transcended racial lines. I remember thinking to myself that finally, people would now understand the day to day plight of inner city youth. Whether not anything would be done was a different story but at least now it would be out there. Rappers were the reporters of the urban youth and they told it how they knew it. N.W.A. and the GETO Boyz gave the world the urban life straight with no chaser. 2Live Crew and Digital Underground added a comedic aspect to their approach while Public Enemy and X-Clan got into our minds; motivating us to make a change. The bottom line was there were many different artists speaking to the world on behalf of a generation and culture that desperately needed a voice.

Fast forward to 2013; each day I take a trip of approximately 35-45 minutes into downtown. This trip takes me along scenic Lake Shore Drive into the Loop the out the 290 highway. As a lifelong fan of rap music & the hip hop culture, I listen to what’s being played on the radio. During my trip, every rap artist that I listened to during my travel, spoke of the exact same content in their music. Money, cars & women were the topics and hook of every song. How much money they have, how much sex they get, and what kind of car they drive. The artists speak on how they belittle others with less money or how they eliminate (lyrically I assume) others that are trying to get where they are. The artists are giving listeners an impression of life that is anything BUT real. Even the artists themselves don’t have the type of money and live the type of lives that they rap about. One record said, “I woke up in a new Bugatti.” Get the f@#k outta here!!

What frightens me is that impressionable youth are listening to these lyrics and since none of these artists are giving these kids the step by step method of “earning” the type of money that they rap about, these kids are on their own to figure out a way to get it.  The contemporary artists that promote this type of lyrical content give African American youth a fictitious view of life. They undermine the parental efforts of instilling a strong work ethic and promote a short cut mentality in Black youth. Youth that adopt this short cut mentality believe that they are entitled to expensive material possessions without a diligent work ethic. Furthermore, these artists have the opportunity to explain the “make believe” nature of their lyrics through interviews.  However, they choose to show their “outlaw” nature through random run ins with law enforcement, used by publicists to enhance their, street credibility. Ironically, most of these artists receive their first contact with police after becoming famous.

Ironically, the ring leader or the “Boss, “of the circus of unreal rappers calls himself Rick Ross. William Leonard Roberts II is a former Florida correctional officer that caught his big break and ran with it.  After graduating from Miami Carol City Senior High School, Roberts attended the historically black college Albany State University on a football scholarship. Instead of utilizing his life to inspire & motivate others seeking the same path. Mr. Roberts took the life, style and name of convicted drug dealer; Ricky Ross. The phenomenal good that could have arisen from the story of an individual who worked to feed his family while struggling to attain his goals will never be known. Instead the man was content with the personal gains reaped by claiming the life of another. So pitiful is this case of identity theft, even the way Ross wore his beard and head was imitated. Mr. Roberts went as far as to deny his legitimate past until he was presented with irrefutable evidence of his previous work history.

Real Rick Ross

As an original participant of the hip hop movement, the culture that evolved from it and the music that represents it. I am shocked & appalled at our current state of being. The whole basic dynamic of this life is that of realness, no matter where you come from. The original rappers were reporters from their respective geographical areas.  These reporters used their lyrical ability to give insight on their past, present and future state of being. Though the artists gave it to us in their own manner, they held fast onto the ideology of keeping it real. Through Tupac Shakur’s lyrics we were allowed into his life and inner most thoughts. Notorious Christopher Wallace told us where he came from and how he got to where he was. Ice Cube took us with him for a day in his life.

The Rapper/ RobertsII

The movement began from a people’s desire to evolve and tell the world of their evolution. Though it may sound simple, keeping it real was the essence of the hip hop lifestyle. In order to institute change we must return to rationally based thinking grounded into reality.  It was this way of thinking that created a culture based on integrity that would influence the lives of millions. We must return to this way of thinking, accepting all that is real and rejecting the unreal. At that point we will see the rebirth of the movement that spawned a culture so powerful that it created a music form that changed the face of entertainment; forever.

C.O. William Leonard Roberts II

To Protect and Serve….with a Nice Side Dish

In my ongoing search for incidents of depravity perpetrated by people that we share the planet with, I happened upon New York police officer Gilberto Valle. It seems that on Wednesday October 24^th, 2012 agents with the Federal Bureau of Investigation took Officer Gilberto Valle III into custody after they uncovered several plots to kidnap, rape, cook and eat women, yes EAT WOMEN!!! The Manhattan U.S. Attorney Preet Bharara filed the official criminal complaint charging Valle, a six year veteran of the force with kidnapping, conspiracy and illegal use of a federal law enforcement database. It is said that Valle utilized NYPD surveillance equipment to keep tabs on his would be victims. In one of the most disturbing and unusual arrests involving a police officer, federal investigators discovered files on Valle’s computer pertaining to at least 100 women, according a law enforcement official, some of them were his classmates from high school.

The officer’s estranged wife initially contacted the F.B.I. to report that Valle viewed and kept disturbing items on his computer and feared for the safety of their 1 year old daughter.  On his computer Valle was found to have created a document named,”A Blueprint for Abducting and Cooking.”  The document contained women’s name, birth date and physical details like height, weight and bra size. The evidence against the officer consists largely of e-mails and instant messages in which Officer Valle was “discussing plans to kidnap, rape, torture, kill, cook and eat body parts of a number of women,” according to the complaint. In each case, it appears that the women knew the officer vaguely. And in at least one case, the officer used the National Crime Information Center to get information about a third woman.  

On July 19, Officer Valle sent an instant message to the co-conspirator, indicating that he was meeting with “victim-1” three days later, according to the complaint. The victim, who was interviewed in October by the F.B.I., said she had met the officer that day “at a restaurant for lunch,” according to the complaint. What happened during or after the lunch was not disclosed. The U.S. Attorney says federal investigators found evidence of how closely Mr. Valle may have watched intended victims–cellphone data revealed the cop made and received calls while very close to a second target’s Manhattan apartment. Investigators say interviews with “victim 2″ revealed that she’d never had Mr. Valle over to her place and didn’t know him very well. Also found on Valle’s computer were conversations between he and at least 2 co-conspirators as the planned their acts.  Court documents contained a chilling transcript of an online exchange regarding the second would-be victim. Below are actual recordings of Valle and other unnamed would be accomplices taken from chat sessions held in July 2012:

CC-1 (Co-Conspirator 1), Mr. Valle and his associate allegedly discussed the best ways to kidnap, cook and eat an unnamed victim.

CC-2 (Co-Conspirator 2): I definitely want her and how much again, I’m sorry to ask but I don’t remember.

VALLE: $5,000 and she is all yours.

CC-2: Could we do 4?

VALLE: I am putting my neck on the line here. If something goes wrong somehow, I am in deep shit. $ 5,000 and you need to make sure she is not found. She will definitely make the news.

 In other on-line transmissions contained within the criminal complaint, Mr. Valle agreed with another co-conspirator to kidnap a different woman whom he would deliver bound, gagged and alive. Officer Valle offered to kidnap a woman on an unnamed person’s behalf for a price: “$5,000 and she is all yours,” the officer wrote to that person, according to the complaint. Officer Valle appeared to be under the impression that the person he was communicating with intended to rape the woman, according to the complaint. “She will be alive,” he wrote. “I think I would rather not get involved in the rape. You paid for her. She is all yours; I don’t want to be tempted the next time I abduct a girl.” Valle continued, “I was thinking of tying her body onto some kind of apparatus,” he wrote to the co-conspirator in one electronic communication recovered by law enforcement authorities. “Cook her over a low heat; keep her alive as long as possible.” When the co-conspirator asked how big the officer’s oven was, Officer Valle replied, “Big enough to fit one of these girls if I folded their legs.” While the complaint does not identify any of the women in question, F.B.I. agents later learned that cellphone tracking devices indicated that Officer Valle had made or received calls in the areas where the women lived.

Held without bail on charges of federal kidnapping conspiracy by the order of Magistrate Judge Henry B. Pitman; officer Valle’s trial began in February in the courtroom of Judge Paul Gardephe .  Valle's wife Kathleen Mangan took the stand, breaking down in sobs as she described discovering her husband's plot kill her: “I was supposed to be tied by my feet, my throat slit, and they were going to watch the blood rush from my body,” she said. During the trial, the three initial victims, who prosecutors say were Valle's "intended targets," testified as did an FBI agent who read excerpts of Valle's sick web chats in which he described plans to kidnap and barbecue the women who spoke in court.

As the prosecution and defense battled back and forth, the focus of testimony was reality vs. fantasy. An FBI agent took the stand recounting reams of Valle's sick web chats with fellow fetishists - admitting that those his agency considered "serious" sounded very similar to those considered "fantasy." Defense attorney Julia Gatto did not deny the evidence against Valle but chose to refer to his comments as "weird proclivities." Gatto and fellow defense attorney Robert Baum insisted that Valle was just fantasizing and noted that none of the women were ever harmed.

Prosecutors countered that an analysis of Valle's computer found he was taking concrete steps to abduct his wife and at least five other women he knew. Valle "left the world of fantasy and entered the world of reality," prosecutor Hadassa Waxman said during closing arguments. She said the officer's arrest near Halloween last year interrupted a ghoulish plan to "kidnap, torture, rape and commit other horrific acts on young women."

After 2+ days of deliberation, the jury found officer Gilberto Valle III, guilty of conspiring to kidnap and eat women as well as guilty of wrongfully accessing a federal database. Using words such as solid and damning in reference to the evidence they were presented, the jury’s decision was unanimous. Sentencing is scheduled for June 19^th and the former NYPD officer faces a potential life sentence. Many people sentenced to prison write books. I wonder if he plans to share any of his tightly held recipes in a cookbook.

Serial Murder Revisit Roseland Community

The Roseland community in Chicago has had more than their share of serial murder over the years. The new millennium brought to light the serial murderer Geoffrey T. Griffin.  From July of 1998 to July 2000, Griffin used the neighborhoods of the Roseland area of Chicago as his personal killing fields. In a modus operandi familiar among African American serial killers, Geoffrey Griffin would lure area streetwalkers to abandoned buildings in lieu of receiving drugs or cash. Once inside, Griffin would rape then murder his victims. Arrested on June 17, 2000, he was subsequently charged with eight murders and 1 aggravated criminal sexual assault.  Many of his charges stem from bodies found long after his arrest.

On September 22, 2005, Judge Fred Suria convicted Griffin of killing Angela Jones after watching a videotape in which he described how he squeezed Jones' throat during sex after the two smoked crack cocaine.  Judge Suria acquitted him of killing Beverly Burns even though the man's shirt and jacket were spattered with her blood. The judge said that he was troubled by the lack of evidence at the crime scene against Griffin and by the fact that there was no blood of the victim at the scene. Griffin was sentenced to 100 years in prison on November 06, 2005. Trials for the other murders are forthcoming.

In 2010, serial murder returned to Roseland. Michael Johnson, a 24 year old Roseland resident was arrested on May 22, 2010 and charged with three counts of murder, one count of attempted murder and one count of criminal sexual assault.  Johnson’s DNA was taken and said to have matched at least four unsolved murders in the area. Currently held in Cook County Department of Corrections on no bond, Johnson now 27 is being investigated for additional murders in the Roseland community.

The premise and purpose of writing and publishing, “TheDarker Side of Evil,” was to enlighten society of the existence of Black serial killers as well as to advise African-American communities of these predator’s abilities to hide and operate in plain sight.  As usual the victims of these crimes were women. More specifically, women labeled nightwalkers or prostitutes that take to life on the streets by virtue of drug addiction.  Drug addicts and prostitutes are viewed by some as people whose behavior brought their fate upon themselves.  In my book, I pointed that society views these people as “throwaways,” people that society has basically given up on and truthfully wish would fall from the face of the earth anyway.

WE MUST CHANGE THE WAY WE VIEW EACH OTHER. The only time society seems to feel any level of empathy is when a problem affects us directly. We as a civilized society must change our judgmental views of each other and begin to care for something outside of ourselves. The devil cannot exist and operate if we keep an eye out for the well-being of the people around us. He thrives on our selfishness and inability to concern with the issues of the people we see and interact with daily. As long as we continue to do what we’ve always done, we will continue to get what we’ve always gotten.

The Speck That Wouldn’t Go Away

Have you ever had a speck that wouldn’t go away? Whether it’s in your eye or on your shirt it can be a bothersome nuisance. Let’s take a look at how an early morning traveler from the 60’s in Chicago handles such a problem.

It was 3:00 a.m. Thursday July 14, 1966 and the humidity in Chicago was nearly unbearable. Barely coherent, Richard staggered down the street and came to rest at a bus stop. “The bitch,” Richard uttered to himself, but then a thought came, “which bitch am I talking about?” He chuckled to himself as he counted the number of people throughout his life that could aptly wear that moniker. Settling on his ex-wife for now, he mumbled “She couldn’t even wait for the ink to dry before gallivanting off with that weasel,” Richard recalled how his ex-wife was remarried in less than two days after their divorce was finalized.  Richard flopped down upon a bus stop bench and attempted to convey the reason for his current state of drunkenness to a man waiting at the bus stop. Attempting to look concerned, yet secretly hoping the tall intoxicated man would leave, the man sharing the bus stop bench listened to Richard’s drunken banter.

The warm Chicago air only exasperated Richard’s intoxicated condition has he rattled on to his unwilling audience about his life as a merchant marine. “I came up to leave on the SS Sinclair Great Lakes, but they gave the job to some punk ahead of me!” Richard said with slurred speech. The man had to admit, the stories were entertaining, at first; he then became nervous when Richard told of his troubles while living in Dallas, Texas. Soon the weary traveler became down right uncomfortable when Richard told him of his exploits of the last few hours.

“My sister and brother in law dropped me off up here at the National Maritime Union (NMU), hiring hall for a job, she gave me  $25 and split; I left and walked east on 100th St. and got a room at the Shipyard Inn,” Richard told the leery listener.  Looking into the night sky as if he could see himself, he then told the man how he and others began to slam shots of whiskey at the bar. Suddenly Richard stopped talking and stood stoic for a few seconds. “That’s when she came in,” he said after the silence. “Who came in?” The bus stop man asked Richard.  He paused to recall her name, “Ella, Ella Mae I think her name was,” Richard responded loudly and flopped onto the bus stop bench as if the thought exhausted him. “The bitch flirted with me from the time she came in,” he said as his blank look of drunkenness was now replaced with an evil sneer. Gone too was the stuttering and stammering of a babbling drunk. In its place was a man ready to tell a tale of true depravity to a captivated audience of one.

“She had been watching me and flirting the whole time,” Richard said as he lit a cigarette. “I told her that I had a bottle in my room and invited her to have a nightcap with me,” he continued. “She thought she was going to drink my booze and leave.” “What did you do?” The man asked with renewed interest. With a facial expression that can only be described as sheer evil, Richard told the man in full detail how he pressed his knife to her throat and raped the woman repeatedly. He also told the man how he rummaged through her purse and took the woman’s 22 caliber revolver before he callously threw the woman out of his room.

The man stared at Richard with a look of sheer amazement. Questioning if Richard had been lying to him the whole time, he wondered if his common sense was simply being put to the test.  He thought to himself, “is this guy some type of jokester, using me to simply while away the time as they waited for the early morning bus?”  He watched Richard’s face hoping to see some indication of truth or at least the slightest hint of prankery.  Instead, what he saw was a cold soulless gaze. Any shadow of disbelief would soon be erased from the man’s mind as his Richard continued the story of that night’s activities.

“After I gave that bitch the what for, I was fuckin hungry,” Richard said with an air of bravado.  “I grabbed supper from Kay’s Pilot House and returned to the tavern.”

 “While I was at the bar,                I saw a group of young girls heading up 100^th street,” Richard said has he stood and pointed.  Richard explained to the man how the girl’s laughed and giggled as they made their way up the darkened street to their townhouse. “I crouched down in the bushes across the street and watched them,” he said as he demonstrated his stance. “I started to masturbate in the bushes as I watched them undress in the window,” he said proudly. “Then they started talking to me, they sent messages to my head to come over; I could hear them in my head calling my name”. As he spoke, the captive listener could hear another distinct change in Richard’s speaking voice. The storyteller’s tone became one of utter disdain and hatred for the subjects in his tale.  As Richard spoke, the listener now recognized the psychosis in the man that had held his attention for so long; even worse, he realized that every word of his story was the absolute truth. Worried about seeming inattentive and turning Richard against him; the man acted more attentive than ever.

Oblivious to the man’s anxiety, Richard continued his story with a sense of renewed vigor, “I ran across the street, man I’m telling you, they were talking to me straight into my brain, and I knew it was them.  The broads told me to use the window so that’s what I did, I only wanted to burglarize the joint but the chics were in my head telling me how they wanted me.”  Richard then pulled out a knife and illustrated his next move, “The first chic screamed and played dumb, so I gutted the whore with my blade. The next broad came in so I choked the shit out of her, that’ll teach them about playing with people’s minds.” The man, now frightened to the core, sat wide eyed and speechless. Fully engrossed into the reenactment of his wickedness, Richard continued for at least another 20 minutes with his street side testimony. He explained in full detail how he took the lives of seven nursing students.  Richard concluded his monologue with the vivid description of his violent sexual assault, torture and murder of the eighth young woman to die at his hand that night.

The sun was beginning to come up as Richard closed the story with the man. Not knowing what to say; truthfully afraid to say anything the man simply sat and looked and Richard. He then began to crack a smile as he hoped on all that is holy that Richard had simply made the whole story up. He was just about to commend Richard on his story telling ability when he heard a blood curdling scream followed by "They're all dead! All my friends are dead!" The man turned to where he heard the scream. In the distance he could see a woman running and waving her arms wildly. At that moment the man froze, it dawned on him that he had just listened to the confession of a heinous murderer. A question arose in the man’s mind. “Is this guy about to kill me too?  Afraid to turn around but refusing to die from an attack to the back, he whipped around.

Astonishingly, the man was gone, the only thing remaining was the stench of old alcohol and dried blood. The early morning summer sunrise glistened off of the bus stop sign; a sign that read, ”no service between Midnight and 6 a.m. Aghast, the man stood mesmerized that for the better part of 3 hours, a guy named Richard had given him a confession of his murderous rampage and was now gone. The man abandoned his travel plans and returned home. When his wife asked him what had happened and where had he been, the man simply replied, “I had a Speck that wouldn’t go away!”

Richard Speck

Omaima’s Egyptian Spare Ribs

Normally I don’t do food criticisms; however in my efforts to seek out subject matter for my second book, I found a little lady fits whose criteria fits perfectly for inclusion in my little blog of depravity. So get out your pens and paper and get ready to take notes as we cover the secret recipe for Omaima’s Egyptian Spare Ribs.

Born and raised in Egypt, Omaima Nelson immigrated to the United States in 1986. Soon after her arrival in the U.S., Omaima began caring for children of various households as a nanny. Slender with olive skin and bedroom eyes, it wasn’t long before a photographer noticed her and she began working part time as a model.

Omaima underwent a series of dysfunctional relationships with other men. In October 1991 a 23 year old Omaima was out for a night of fun and relaxation at a local bar, while shooting pool she met a 56 year old pilot named William Nelson. A whirlwind courtship ensued and in a matter of weeks the couple married. Acquaintances of the couple describe the two as ordinary love birds in respect to their relationship. However, on Thanksgiving Day 1991, the theme of the day would be anything but ordinary for William “Bill” Nelson & his wife Omaima.

On Thanksgiving 1991 Omaima Nelson repeatedly stabbed her husband Bill with a pair of scissors in their Costa Mesa apartment. Mrs. Nelson then proceeded to beat her husband with a clothes iron other objects until he died. Normally, death is the embodiment of the end, but for this true tale of the macabre, this is only the beginning. Later Omaima would claim that she was raped and beaten and that the crimes were in self-defense, however, evidence shows that Bill Nelson was tied securely to the bed during the onslaught.

Omaima at Parole Hearing

After making sure that Bill was indeed dead, Omaima proceeded to dismember her husband’s corpse. Blending portions of the corpse with the day’s Thanksgiving meal; she forced body parts down a garbage disposal unit that she kept running for hours after the murder. Omaima boiled Bill’s head, fried his hands, attempting to destroy his fingerprints and skinned his torso and lower extremities. Remaining body parts were stuffed in garbage bags as she appealed to ex-boyfriends to assist her in the disposal of them. To add insult to injury, she castrated the corpse claiming she’d done that out of revenge for the abuse he had inflicted upon her.

The climax of the evening came when Omaima donned her red hat, red stilettoes and red lipstick. She then proceeded to cook the ribs of her murdered husband, barbecue style.  "I did his ribs just like in a restaurant," Nelson is quoted as saying. She said she sat at the kitchen table with Bill Nelson's cooked remains and said out loud, "It's so sweet, it's so delicious. . . . I like mine tender," she reportedly admitted to the court psychiatrist.

Omaima Aree Nelson was found guilty of 2^nd degree murder on January 12, 1993. She was sentenced to 28 years to life in prison. Omaima first became eligible for parole in 2006, but was denied when "commissioners found her unpredictable and a serious threat to public safety." She became eligible again in 2011, but was denied by the parole board again, citing that she had not taken responsibility for the murder, and would not be a productive citizen if she were freed. She will not be able to seek parole again until 2026.

The Windy City's Worst Team Ever...........The Chicago Rippers

Earlier today someone asked me if I had begun working on my second book as of yet. “No,” I responded, I went on to let them know that I am still investigating and researching various topics within the true crime genre. As an ex-criminal and true crime author I am normally not shocked by the articles, biographies and documentaries that I utilize for research in my works. That is until today; I was researching the potential links between H.H, Holmes and Jack the Ripper and came across a group known as the Ripper Crew or The Chicago Rippers.

The Chicago Rippers

Comprised of Robin Gecht, Edward Spreitzer with brothers Andrew and Thomas Kokoraleis, these men are suspected to be responsible for the disappearance of at least 18 women from the Chicago area in 1981 and 1982. During their time of operation, the group would drive around in a van looking for prostitutes to sacrifice in Gecht's apartment. Led by Gecht; these four men raped, tortured, mutilated and killed prostitutes throughout Cook & DuPage counties. Afterwards they would remove one breast from each victim and eaten it as Gecht read passages of “The Satanic Bible”. It has also been said that they, after severing the breast, took turns raping the open wound. They then proceeded to each masturbate into the flesh of the breast, chop it into pieces, and devour it. When the ritualistic behavior was done, they would dump the corpse and proceed to seek out their next victim. In 1982 Beverly Washington, a twenty-year-old prostitute, was found near death alongside some railroad tracks. Despite being raped, slashed, and having her left breast severed, Washington survived to give a description of her attacker and the van she was taken in.

The men were arrested in 1982. The Kokoraleis brothers and Spreitzer confessed their wrong doings in full gory detail. Each of them hesitated to involve Gecht in the crimes, some speculate out of fear or because of the sheer control that Gecht had over the other men. Gecht attempted to escape punishment by offering an insanity excuse. The strategy proved somewhat affective initially and caused a mistrial but that would not be the case in the second trial which began on September 30^th, 1983. The jury found Gecht guilty of attempted murder, rape, deviate sexual assault, aggravated battery, and armed violence.  He was sentenced to 120 years in prison. When asked why he was not convicted of murder, the jury cited the lack of hard evidence against him.

Tommy Kokoraleis, 23, attempted to block his confession from being admitted into his trial, but lost.   He was convicted in 1984 and was sentenced to 70 years in prison. Andrew Kokoraleis was tried in two separate counties for his crimes. After being tried, convicted and sentenced to life in the first trial he too attempted to recant his confession in his second trial. This strategy proved futile as he was sentenced to death. On March 16, 1999, 35-year-old Andrew Kokoraleis was executed by lethal injection at Tamms Correctional Center.  Also sentenced to death, Edward Spreitzer's sentence was commuted in George H. Ryan's last-minute commutation of all death sentences in Illinois in 2003.

The true accounts of the murderous exploits of these men were shocking. The devil truly is in the details of the crimes perpetrated by this group. A more shocking fact is that we share the planet, country, state and city with individuals of equal if not greater levels of depravity. As we carry out our day to day activities, we must make a commitment to ourselves, as it is our obligation, to look out, not only for ourselves but for each other. Not living in fear but being aware of our surroundings makes it difficult, if not impossible, for the devil to touch any one of us.

Serial Murder, Society and the “Throwaway,” People

As a true crime author I analyze, research and write about crime. By virtue of the title, I should be able to write about any type of crime and gain recognition, right? However, due to America’s infatuation with murder, most of my books and publishing center around, what we in Illinois regard as class X felons. I mean, I could probably write about Leroy the crackhead or dimebag Dave or the time Lil Jessie got caught with one rock, but who cares about that? No, our society has a love affair with the darkest crime of them all, the taking of another person’s life.

For every crime written about, research is done. In my book “The Darker Side of Evil,” I speak of society’s “throw away,” people. Throwaway people are the drug addicts, street walkers and homeless people that we see but don’t see every day. Most of us have at least one of these people in our family. The person we hope won’t show up to family gatherings; or if they do, you are prepared for them to stink or to beg, or both. The person in the family that no one knows where they are most of the time, that is until we get a call from another family member or law enforcement notifying the next of kin of the person’s untimely demise.

The city of Chicago is no stranger to the serial murderer. The Roseland area of Chicago has been experiencing the effects of living among a serial killer for the better part of 20 years now. In the late 90’s into 2000’s, Geoffrey T. Griffin took the lives of 7-8 women from the area. More recently, Michael Johnson, a 6 foot 4 220 lb. 27 year old was arrested and stands accused of murdering at least 4 women. In both cases it is highly suspected that these men have committed many more murders than what’s known.

As in most serial murders, the targets of each of these killers were street walkers. Had the media provided adequate coverage of these crimes, lives that were lost may have been saved? However, if we as a community exhibit a lackadaisical attitude toward the victims of these heinous crimes, so will the media. One reason the media provides minimal coverage, if any, in reference to these crimes is our disinterested attitudes concerning the victims. Feeding off of the standpoint of society and the community, the murderer themselves take on the mindset that they are doing the world a favor by ridding the community of these individuals. These women are daughters, sisters, many of them mothers. But most of all they are human beings. Regardless of what kind of lifestyle they have chosen for themselves. They have a right to live just as you and I have.

The Prey

As communities, real communities we have to claim our own, no matter of their current plight. These murderers only exist and operate because we allow them to. It is our failure to watch out for the members of our neighborhoods. We are not to look down upon, but look across at the faces that make up our neighborhoods and when a member is no longer being seen in his or her normal areas, inquire about their wellbeing. Don’t get in their business, but take a moment to ask a known associate of theirs about their friend. History has shown that if we don’t claim our own, there is something waiting in the darkness that will.

Has Our Christian Society Become a Bunch of Atheists in Denial?

If someone were to ask that question of an individual one would probably respond with a “less than Christian,” reply, which is exactly point that I am making!

Let’s take a look at our current state of being. The average individual would be quick to claim their love for God and Jesus Christ. However, let’s take a look at our actions on a whole, regardless of what is said from our mouths, what kind of picture do we paint? Do we live our lives in such a manner that if a person that does not know us from Adam, secretly observed us for a day, could they, based solely on our actions and unmonitored conversations at the end of the day, know that we are Christians.

Have we as a society begun to settle and compromise; allowing events to happen and consenting to ways of life that we know full well are wrong?  I am afraid that we have become a people that have placed the strongholds of integrity on the back seat and have fallen for the facade of immediate gratification. Have we forgotten that we have a moral obligation to or children, our parents and ourselves to live life in the fashion that is conducive to entry into the Kingdom of Heaven? We have become so accustomed to relying on the forgiveness of The Father that we no longer take responsibility for our own lives and actions.

No, everything from my mouth is a Bible verse, and if asked about my religious beliefs I would, without hesitation, claim Christianity. Therefore my day to day behavior is the first that needs examination and modification. The fact of the matter is that I have made certain observations concerning myself and the world within I live. During conversations we curse like sailors. We cut corners and virtually demolish established moral teachings and beliefs all in an effort to make a buck. We flock to see and be entertained by performers that go directly against the teachings of the Bible. Only during our bleakest moments and when all earthly solutions have been exhausted do we call upon The Father in the name of Jesus.

We have to remember, that if we are truly Christians, that there indeed is a Heaven and a Hell. The unending mercy of Our Father is not to be used as an out so that we may engage into every sinful act under the sun, fall upon our knees to ask forgiveness; then turn around and commit the same act again. Above all, we must remember that we are created in the likeness of our Father and have an obligation to carry ourselves as children of the light. We do this so that those that remain in darkness can see the immortal gladness of the believer and chose to come over and bask in the beauty emanated by God the Father Almighty. If we continue with our current form of behavior, what good does it do to claim God? Nonbelievers will quickly comment on the lack of distinction between the actions of the believer and non-believer alike.

And in the end, when the time for judgment has come; if man can’t make the distinction based on our actions, I’m sure Our Lord won’t make the distinction; as a result of our actions.

The Story of The Original Angry Bird

Jake went over everything in his head,” Go in, get the money, check for valuables and get out, no bloodshed!” Countless times before he had made himself the promise of no blood shed, each time he would find a reason to break this promise. Jake would travel the country, working with the railroad when he could, burglarizing homes during his off time. Jake would stalk the different houses he saw, making mental notes concerning the daily routines of their inhabitants. Initially, it was about the money, plain and simple. However, Jake began to give in to the violent impulses that compelled him.  The bitter rage that dwelled within him replaced the basic human need for money. Jake developed a hatred for the people that had hated him ever since his earliest memories.

With the patience of a monk, Jake watched the house at 1007 South 21st Street as he had for the better part of two weeks.  Having gathered everything he needed to know he decided that today, October 30^th was the time to strike. As he peered into the window of the home, he considered aborting the mission, but that thought soon dissipated as his hunger pangs were clearly audible to himself and anyone else within earshot. While waiting on just the right time, Jake thought of his past victims and laughed to himself. “No, please, no!” The cries of his victims rang loudly in his head. To anyone else these screams of terror would have invoked immediate feelings of remorse, but not to Jake. Jake just laughed and whispered to himself, “I hate them Crackers.”

The time had come for him to act. With the stealth of a cat, he cross the street to his victim’s house, passing the mailbox with Kludt neatly written on it, he ducked into a row of bushes that grew against the house. He thought about the rouse he would use to gain entry. “Deliveryman,” he said out loud. Then suddenly, as if an epiphany had come upon him, Jake stripped down to his underwear. As he disrobed Jake spotted an ax inside of the doorway of the shed. Jake grabbed the ax, dressed in nothing but underwear, preceded to the door of the unsuspecting Kludts.

The house was occupied by Bertha Kludt, age 53 and her 17 year old daughter Beverly June Kludt. Disregarding any previous vows of nonviolence, Jake hacked Bertha & Beverly June to death mercilessly. The unmistakable shrieks of women being killed came from the house and alerted the neighbors.  As a result, the police arrived as Jake was attempting to leave through the back door carrying his shoes.

“Freeze,” the officers yelled the familiar command. Unwilling to go without a fight, Jake lunged at one of the officers with a knife, delivering him a superficial wound. The second officer attempted to ease in behind the occupied assailant, but Jake wheeled around and cut this officer also. As back up arrived, the police regained their composure, beat Jake into submission and arrested him.

During the ride to county hospital to have Jake treated for his wounds, the officers began to question him regarding the murder of the Kludt women. At the outset, Jake adamantly proclaimed his innocence. Simultaneously, as if it had been staged, Jake and the police looked down at the prisoner’s soiled apparel. Blood and brain matter covered Jake’s clothing, thereby diminishing any remaining pleas of innocence.

Homicide detectives assigned to the case listened as Jake told them how his only intention was to burglarize the home. He explained that Bertha Kludt appeared suddenly and tried to stop him whereas he hit here with the ax, causing her death. Beverly June came to her mother's aid, he killed her. While being questioned Jake admitted to police that he had an extensive arrest record. He gave account of a life of incarceration in Michigan, Iowa and Utah that totaled 31 years. Most astonishingly, he told law enforcement how he had actually stalked and killed dozens of white women in dozens of states throughout the 1940s.

Jake’s trial began on November 24^th 1947 and lasted almost three days.  A request by Jake to defend himself was denied by the judge and a public defender was appointed. Jake attempted to recant his confession as his attorney claimed it was given under duress due to Jake’s accusation that the officers beat the confession out of him. The judge admitted the evidence and on November 26^th the jury deliberated for 35 minutes and returned with a guilty verdict. Judge Edward D. Hodge sentenced Jake to death by hanging.

Jake’s execution at the Washington State Penitentiary was scheduled for January 16, 1948. In an effort to gain a reprieve, Jake again brought up facts concerning the murders of 44 others. He had explained to the law enforcement community that he would be willing to help them solve these cases if he were granted this stay of execution. Washington governor Monrad C. Wallgren granted him a 60-day reprieve. Police from other states interviewed Jake, and eleven murders were substantiated. He was knowledgeable enough about the 33 other murders to be considered a prime suspect. The interviews with Jake enabled the police departments of many states to declare many unsolved murders as solved. In addition to his Washington state murders, he apparently had killed people in Florida, Illinois, Iowa, Kansas, Kentucky, Michigan, Nebraska, Ohio, Oklahoma, South Dakota and Wisconsin. He mostly preyed on Caucasian women. In each case, Jake killed his victims with an ax or hatchet.

Before being led to the gallows, Jake was given a chance to speak. During this time, he gave a 20 minute monologue. During this time he placed a hex on everyone involved with the trial. Ironically, Judge Hodge died of a heart attack within a month of sentencing him to death. An officer that took his 1^st confession as well as one of the officers that took his 2^nd confession both experienced untimely deaths. The same fate fell upon the court’s chief clerk, and one of Jake's prison guards.

The anger and rage that had once fueled this individual was extinguished. With no more stories to tell and no more hexes to throw. The gallows of Washington state prison at Walla Walla saw the depraved life and wicked times of Jake Bird ended by way of the hangman’s noose on July 15, 1949. Thus ends the story of Jake Bird, the original angry bird.

The Peculiar Tale of the Child Eating Fish

Albert sat in his room on a frigid January morning. He had become accustomed to entertaining himself with the vivid images, thoughts and memories that occupied the four corners of his mind. Some of the memories were decent, most depraved, but all of them were his property. He recalled a poverty stricken childhood filled with pain and suffering. Even now, memories of Saint John’s Orphanage were clear as a bell. Just as clear as if it all happened yesterday. The death of his father left his mother and siblings in dire straits.  As the youngest of four, he was the child forced to live at the orphanage. “They tried to break me!” Albert thought to himself.  The staff would administer ungodly beatings to the children for the slightest infraction. “They broke the other children”, Albert reminisced, “but not me, I embraced the pain.” Albert sat back and closed his eyes, not only had he embraced the pain, he fell in love with it; it would be a love affair that would endure throughout his life.

Nearly drifting into sleep, Albert was awakened by the piercing sound of his mother’s voice.  He looked around the small room then realized it was simply a dream. Albert was almost nine when his mother came and “rescued” him from the orphanage.  He then thought of the little boy he met when he was 12. The feelings he had for the telegraph boy were feelings that he had been taught were for a girl. Though these feelings initially frightened the young Albert, his suitor eased his conscience and assured him that his feelings were virtuous and that they should continue their relationship.  Albert’s young friend introduced him to urolagnia and coprophagia and taught Albert that the taste for urine and feces was an acquired one; but one that he would learn to enjoy.

Fighting off the sleepiness that was beginning to fall upon him, Albert smiled when he remembered being a young man in New York City. Unable to find employment, Albert made a living doing something he truly enjoyed, having sex with men. Unhappy with Albert’s status at that time, his mother introduced him to his would be wife. “Did I truly love her?” Albert thought to himself. The word love had become so distorted and twisted in his life that he was truthfully unsure about any emotions as they related to him. Ironically, just as his mother once did, his wife abandoned him and left Albert with six children to raise. While raising his children, Albert would attempt to teach them the joy and ecstasy of pain. He would fashion a paddle filled with nails and have the children paddle him until he bled.

Suddenly a loud noise down the hall interrupted his daydream, but Albert soon quelled his anxiety and resumed his reminiscent state of being.  As he turned the pages of his life, a malevolent spirit seemed to invade Albert.  The once pleasant atmosphere had become somber as Albert began to think about “the boys.”  Beginning in 1890, about the time he arrived in New York, Albert began having “urges.”  He could always hear the voices that would speak to him, giving him disturbing tasks to carry out. Ordinarily, he was strong enough not to relent to their power. But now, now he wanted to succumb to them. He would become a willing participant to their ungodly requests. Albert thought of all of the little boys that he had tortured and raped. Albert then stood up and walked over to the mirror on the wall. Gazing at his reflection, he formed a wry smile, “I wanted them to enjoy the pain as I did,” he whispered to himself. Having traveled across the country extensively, Albert once bragged to someone that he had children in every state. The true and horrific nature of that claim had yet to be revealed at that time

Albert looked around the room and scoffed at the peeling paint, “what a shotty job,” he thought to himself. Having been a painter himself, he was extremely critical of the work of others. Albert sat down again and thought about the children that he’d extended his special brand of caring to over the years. Unrepentant, he enjoyed memories of the pain and suffering he inflicted upon these young victims. The mere recollection of their torture sent Albert into a sexually aroused state.  He recalled his” instruments of Hell” consisting of a paddle of nails, meat cleaver and knives and how he used them on the children.  Their screams were a sheer delight to Albert; to him their cries were like the songbird in flight.

Albert stood up to look in the mirror again, staring at his reflection; he began to think of two men that greatly influenced his life. The first man was a past lover of his. On a romantic afternoon, the two had visited a waxworks museum.  Albert became fascinated by an exhibit that demonstrated the bisection of a penis; soon after, he developed a morbid interest in castration. Still gazing at his reflection, he remembered how, as a younger man, he had mastered the art of seduction. The young Albert had men at his beck & call back then. There was one man; Albert sat down, struggling to recall his name. “Kenner, Kenny no Kedden, Kedden was his name,” Albert said aloud.  Kedden was a retarded man that Albert had seduced. When he first laid eyes on Kedden, Albert had decided that he would be the one to satisfy his newly found fixation with castration. After tying up a naked Kedden, Albert began to cut around his penis. Smiling, Albert sat back on his bed, reliving the moment then suddenly; his cheerful demeanor became sullen as he remembered the look of anguish on Kedden’s face. It frightened him so that Albert administered first aid to the wound, left a $10.00 bill on Kedden’s knee and left town, never to return to St. Louis.

Albert thought of the second man as a godsend. Throughout his younger years Albert could not understand the insatiable hunger that he felt. His ravenous desires had gone undiagnosed until he ran into an old friend, Capt. John Davis. Davis would entertain Albert with tales of his adventures on the Steamer Tacoma.  Albert chose to lie down to fully relive Davis’ accounts of his exploits in China. Albert smiled as he remembered how Capt. Davis emphasized to him the state of poverty and starvation that the Chinese were going through. How the meat of children drew top dollar during the famine. He especially enjoyed the graphic description of the whipping of the children to tenderize the meat for consumption.

Albert then relived the pleasures that were derived from his encounters with these men. As he lay, hunger pains actually set in when he recounted the children he had devoured over the years. He remembered how much he enjoyed preparing the children for his meal. No longer was the whipping of the children to no avail, the whippings were now used to tenderize the children’s flesh. In his own mind the recipes he had conjured up were delectable. Utilizing his vivid imagination, he could see the faces of “his children,” as he so affectionately referred to them. Albert recalled watching Francis X. McDonnell play with the other boys. He’d been able to lure him away, sexually assault him and just when he was about ready to dismember him to take home; he heard voices and people coming. He hadn’t eaten Francis, but as he thought back now, he could visualize the possibilities. The name Billy Gaffney popped into Albert’s head. He remembered this little boy as well as the methods and efforts he used to create a fine meal of the four year old. “Little Grace,” Albert whispered to himself, as he sat down on the bed. Albert reminisced about how cute Grace Budd was. Seven years after abducting Grace, Albert wrote a horrifying letter to the Budd family detailing the kidnapping and demise of their beautiful daughter. He had actually come to the Budd home to take their son Edward, “Grace sat in my lap and kissed me. I made up my mind to eat her,” he repeated to himself a line he’d written in his letter to the Budd family. Suddenly, his mood changed from reflective to irate.  “Why did I write that letter?” Albert said while banging his head against the wall. The letter, that infuriated Albert, had been a key component in alerting the world of his depraved existence.

Albert’s once blissful demeanor had now been replaced with rage. Again he stood and looked into the mirror. This time he saw something else, he saw an imprisoned old man. His recollection of the letter he’d written to the Budd family brought him swiftly into the sobering reality of his current situation. The letter also reminded him of a face; angrily Albert spat into the toilet, not the face of a child but that of Detective William F. King. He remembered his arrest and interview at the police station. Albert vehemently denied any involvement in any kidnapping or murder. “I don’t know anything about those bones they say they’ve found. And cannibalism! The very thought sickens me,” Albert recited the testimony to himself in the exact same manner that he told police on the day of his arrest. However, due to Detective King’s tenacious questioning, Albert soon recanted and confessed, signing a full statement filled with the horrendous details.  Albert’s face took on a smug look as he recalled Detective King transcribing the declaration of guilt he provided. He remembered the officers’ look of utter disgust as he gave the account of Billy Gaffney’s death, dismemberment and consumption in full detail. Albert was no stranger to the police or to prison, however this time; there were no sexual escapades with the other men as there were on his first arrest. Absent were the nice calming doctors and comfortable hospital stays as in his second arrest. The only comforting aspect of Albert’s current predicament is that it would soon be over.

Albert continued to stare into the mirror. Raising his head and gazing into the light, Albert began to pray. He had always heard voices in his head, during his confession he admitted that everything he had done was at the command of God. Continually looking at his reflection in the mirror, he gave thanks for his frail and gentile demeanor that had given him the ability to abduct and devour children around the country. Albert told Detective King that it had been the voice of John the Baptist that led him to the 23 states that he had lived in. He also informed the detective that in each state, he had killed at least one child. Albert never returned to the same neighborhood.  Though the wickedness of his deeds knew no racial barriers, he had always been partial to Black and disabled children, reasoning that police would be less inclined to look for them. Still gazing at his likeness, Albert took note of his thick gray hair and his drooping gray moustache. While thinking of his beloved rumpled suits, he had an epiphany. The very same qualities that allowed him to ravage the children of various communities in perceived anonymity were the same characteristics people remembered to identify him at his trial. Albert’s head dropped.

As the noises of chains and voices became louder, Albert resumed his prayerful state. He spoke out loud to himself “What I did must have been right or an angel would have stopped me, just as an angel stopped Abraham in the Bible [from sacrificing his son].”  He began to hum hymns that he recalled from his youth in the orphanage. Crying, he fell to his knees and began to recite scriptures, “Happy is he that taketh Thy little ones and dasheth their heads against the stones,” he said piously. At times he would go on endlessly with quotations from the Bible all mixed up with his own sentences.

Hours passed, Albert maneuvered so that he might enjoy the excruciating pain within his hips.  During questioning he admitted that he had been sticking needles into his body for years. He had been placing them in the area between the rectum and the scrotum. At first, he said, he had only stuck these needles in and pulled them out again. In an effort to reach the next plateau of pain, he stuck others in so far that he was unable to get them out, and they stayed there.  To verify his statements, Albert was X-rayed and sure enough, there were at least twenty-nine needles in his pelvic region. The pain caused Albert to think about his children and the games that he’d taught them in their youth.  Though he had wished his children would learn to enjoy the pain as he did, he never forced it upon them. Actually, Albert had been a very fine father. He never once in his life laid a hand on one of his children. Thinking of them sent Albert into a depressed state, he whispered to himself, “I’m still worried about my children,” he sniffled. His six children ranged from age 21 to 35. “You’d think they’d come to visit their old dad in jail, but they haven’t.”

The voices in the hallway moved closer to Albert.  The rattling of the chains reminded him of the inevitable. The facial expressions of the jury were seared into Albert’s consciousness. He remembered looking at them as they listened attentively to the prosecution read the ghastly account of his alleged crimes. Ten hours of testimony was resolved in a mere half of an hour, “We find the defendant guilty as charged,” the jury foreman said. The words of Judge Frederick P. Close were deafening in his mind. ”Death by electric chair,” said Judge Close. Albert thanked the judge for his sentence; he recalled how the thought of experiencing the voltage in his body excited him. Albert enthusiastically welcomed prospect of feeling that much pain. Pain had been the only constant in Albert’s life and he was a loyal friend to it as it was to him.

As the prison cell doors opened to take Albert to his court designated appointment, he fell into a state of emotional numbness. As the officers extracted him from the cell, one of them asked him sarcastically, “are you ready to die?” Albert responded, “I have no particular desire to live. I have no particular desire to be killed. It is a matter of indifference to me.” The officers placed Albert in the chair and fastened the straps, preparing him for his final transition.  As he sat excitedly anticipating the currents that soon  would be coursing throughout his body, Albert had a thought. From this point forward, Hamilton Howard “Albert” Fish would strike fear in the hearts and minds of children for centuries to come and would forever take his place in the annals of American history as,

“The Boogeyman.”

The Very Real & Present Danger of Prison Overcrowding

The start of this entry began as a humorous look at the state of overcrowding currently being experienced at Cook County Department of Corrections and Illinois Department of Corrections. After a period of research that highlighted the devastating effects potentially caused by detention center overcrowding, the humorous aspect has been eliminated and in its place a plea to state legislators for common sense to prevail.

Cook County Department of Corrections, the largest single site correctional facility in the country is under the direct supervision of the Sheriff of Cook County Thomas (Tom) Dart. Cook County Sheriff Tom Dart says the jail is nearly full, and he's concerned that the facility will be bursting at the seams as summer months approach and arrests typically rise with the mercury. Operating a capacity that teeters constantly between 96% and 100% at any given time, the stage has been set for a calamity . Cook County Board President Toni Preckwinkle says she doesn’t have enough money to house anymore inmates in Cook County Jail.  She wants the jail to get rid of about 1500 inmates because the place is overcrowded and the county doesn’t have the cash for anyone else.

In a similar dilemma, Illinois Department of Corrections is faced with a statewide issue of overcrowding. In 2010, Illinois Governor Pat Quinn, under pressure from Associated Press, did away with the standard good time allotment that allowed deserving inmates to be released 90 to 180 days ahead of their scheduled release dates. In an effort to save the State of Illinois but instead adding insult to injury, Gov. Quinn has proposed and proceeded to close various prisons around the state. To deal with the overcrowding, IDOC plans to use gymnasiums at more than half a dozen prisons across the state to house inmates.

 

Sheriff Tom Dart

Governor Pat Quinn

Ironically, over 70% of the residential bodies of both IDOC as well as CCDOC consist of nonviolent offenders. This means that both of these departments are filled with inmates that are NOT a threat to public safety. In the rest of the country drug addiction had been classified as a disease; however in Illinois, addicts are arrested and regarded as criminals. Each institution houses a great many individuals in dire need of mental health assistance. The reconsideration and reassignment of individuals within those two categories alone would reduce the inmate  population by at least 50%.

As a final appeal for change, a list has been included below. The list is comprised of American detention facilities that thought overcrowding was a good idea. Behind the names and locations are the dates and casualties caused by the uprising at these institutions. Hopefully Cook County and the State of Illinois can avoid their place on the list and in history.

• ·         Southport Correctional Facility, New York, June 29, 1990 - 27 people injured
• ·         Southern Ohio Correctional Facility, Easter Sunday, 1993 - 9 inmates killed, 1 corrections officer.
• ·         San Quentin State Prison, California, January 2006 - at least 25 injured
• ·         North County Correctional Facility, Castaic, California, February 2006 - 1 inmate killed, over 100 injured
• ·         New Castle Correctional Facility Riot, New Castle, Indiana, 24 April 2007
• ·         2009 Northpoint Training Center riot in Danville, Kentucky, August 21, 2009 - 80 inmates involved, 5 buildings burned down
• ·         Adams County Correctional Center, Natchez, Mississippi, May 20, 2012.