ShadowMan: A Killer Stalks the Hinterlands

Review of ShadowMan: An Elusive Psycho Killer and the Birth of FBI Profiling by Ron Franscell

Review written by Robert A. Waters

 

“The breeze. It wasn’t right.

Heidi Jaeger was only twelve years old but she knew the wind didn’t blow inside a tent.”

So begins a new chiller by veteran author Ron Franscell.

The Jaeger family had been camping in Montana when Heidi began screaming that her seven-year-old sister, Susie, was missing. A hole had been cut in the canvas tent and someone had kidnapped the girl. In the shadow of darkness, the child had vanished.

Local lawmen, joined by the FBI, spent weeks scouring the barren countryside for clues but came up empty. The Jaegers eventually returned to their home in Michigan and waited for news, any news, about what happened to their beloved daughter. Then, on the first anniversary of the child’s disappearance, they received a telephone call from the killer.

As the weeks and months rolled by, Special Agent Pete Dunbar became frustrated with the lack progress. Nearly a year later, while attending a conference at Quantico, Dunbar heard about a new “tool” for solving murders. Criminal Profiling. In fact, it was so new that it had never even been used. But with no leads in the Jaeger case, Dunbar decided to take a chance. He contacted Howard Teten and Patrick Mullany, hoping to get something he could work with.

In the past 30 years, criminal profiling has become a standard part of murder investigations. But at its inception, even the pioneers of the procedure were unsure of its applicability to murder inquiries. ShadowMan takes the reader into the first case to successfully use profiling as part of the FBI’s investigative arsenal.

The author interviewed those early profilers and got a step-by-step description of the involvement of each. In the end, they set their sights on a shifty, intelligent yet morally bankrupt killer of little girls, young boys, and adults. David Meirhofer would eventually confess to murdering four innocents: a seven-year-old girl, a sixth grade-boy, a teenage boy, and a young woman. His spooky confession to all those murders is recorded in the book.

But Franscell takes the art of penmanship higher than most true crime writers. Establishing place, backstory, and character is his expertise.

Here are a few examples:

“Here at the numb bottom of winter, the terrain was half-dead, half-alive. It was all dirt and sagebrush, with just enough grass to keep a small herd of cows alive.”

“[Searchers] knocked on doors, belly-wriggled into crawl spaces, poked their heads into outhouses and well houses, and clambered into cobwebby attics.”

“The bones must have been crushed somehow and scattered across the homestead, where they could be hidden in plain sight.”

“Around here, elections were won and lost on back-fence gossip.”

If you’re looking for a better-than-usual true crime read, this is your book.

The Strange Child-Killer of Fort Lauderdale

“He fell to the ground but was still breathing...”

Written by Robert A. Waters

For some reason, this tragic story has eluded true crime sleuths of the internet. But the tale should be told, this remembrance of a truly senseless crime that rocked south Florida, this murder that had devastating long-lasting effects on an innocent family, this crime that vanished from the headlines almost as rapidly as it appeared.

On September 4, 1979, the following blurb appeared in the Miami Herald: “A 64-year-old Fort Lauderdale woman leaped to her death Monday from her ninth-floor apartment at the Venetian Condominiums, One Las Olas Circle. Maxine B. Folwell was killed immediately after plunging from the balcony of her apartment at 12:49 p.m., according to police reports. Folwell left behind a suicide note in which she said she was sorry for her actions, but was too despondent to live.”

The years of gnawing, unrequited pain for her murdered son had finally caught up with Maxine.

 

By 1950, modern air conditioning had begun to generate a decades-long population shift from northern climes to Florida. Like others, the family of Roger Folwell, Sr. purchased a home and fled the ice of Long Island for the Sunshine State.

The household consisted of Roger, his wife Maxine, and two children, ten-year-old Roger, Jr., and daughter Susan, 11. Roger, Sr.  had retired from a storied career as a pilot for Pan American Airlines—Maxine had been an airline stewardess for Pan Am. The Miami News reported that they had moved into their “swank island home” on Pelican Island in Fort Lauderdale. Their son quickly made friends with many local children and adults. Roger attended Eastside Elementary School, where he was an honor student, and received awards for never missing Sunday School at the local Presbyterian Church.

On Wednesday afternoon, December 6, 1950, the precocious youngster rode his maroon-colored bicycle through the neighborhood. Soon he crossed the Pelican Island bridge that connected Sea Island. At the foot of the bridge, Roger met thirty-three-year-old Robert William Nelson. The Fort Lauderdale News described the meeting place as a “desolate, uncleared island, just two fingers of land near the boy’s home.”

Unable to read or write anything except his name, Nelson lugged a knapsack bulging with newspapers. The wild-eyed, unkempt street salesman looked like a bogey-man, but Roger, ever friendly and curious, engaged him in conversation.

 

At 6:30 p.m., Roger’s father called the Fort Lauderdale Police Department and reported his son missing. The family had been searching for nearly two hours and told detectives they could find no trace of the boy.

Construction workers informed police they saw the boy ride over the bridge to Sea Island but never saw him return. In addition to police, other searchers included firemen, Coast Guard auxiliary members, boy scouts, American Legionnaires, and local citizens. Cops dragged canals and shut Sea Island down. Investigators stormed the island, interrogating everyone, but learning little.

After 48 hours, a detective stumbled on Robert’s bicycle, then noticed a foot protruding from a pine thicket near the bridge. Roger Folwell’s body had been found. His killer had dragged the corpse away from the road and covered it with pine straw and tree limbs. An autopsy revealed 14 deep wounds to his head and additional injuries to his body—Roger had been bludgeoned to death. In fact, nearly every bone in his body had been broken. The coroner informed reporters that the child had likely been killed shortly after he vanished. He found no signs of sexual assault.

The senselessness of the crime shook South Florida.

Police dragged waterways and canals searching for the murder weapon, thought to be a claw hammer. They checked out hundreds of “perverts” who resided in and around Fort Lauderdale. Detectives set up an “assembly line” of polygraph machines in a gymnasium so they would not be overwhelmed by the numbers of people they hooked up to the contraptions. Cops used two military high-energy magnets to scour nearby canals for the hammer. Roger’s parents offered a reward of $1,000. Local citizens, police, and the city of Fort Lauderdale donated funds and the reward eventually grew to $8,000.

Roger and Maxine were overwhelmed with grief. The two could barely function, and when they did, an underlying sadness hung over the couple. In later years, they donated much time and money to local charities, possibly in an attempt to offset the evil they saw in the world. 

Throughout the year of 1951, the Fort Lauderdale Police Department spent thousands of man hours trying to find the killer. But it would take the Hollywood, Florida Police Department to finally connect a local child molester to the savage murder of Roger.

 

A few days after killing Roger Folwell, Robert William Nelson was arrested in Hollywood for “indecent, immoral and lewd conduct” in the presence of a minor. Convicted, he spent 30 days in the lockup before being released.

Nelson’s fetish for young girls caused him to be arrested time and again. Newspapers later described him as being “borderline retarded.” His sister told reporters that he’d been in a car crash when he was six-years-old and the injuries he’d suffered from that wreck had stunted his mental growth. Another New York transplant, his parents had moved to Florida after the accident thinking it would improve their son’s health.

In December of 1951, a year after the murder of Roger Folwell, Nelson was back to his old tricks. Detectives caught him red-handed molesting a 14-year-old girl in the same theater where he’d previously been arrested. When Nelson informed Hollywood Police detective Roy Longbottom that he’d once had a “fight” with a young boy on Sea Island, he suspected Nelson may have been the killer of Roger Folwell and notified Fort Lauderdale police. During the subsequent interrogation, the suspect readily admitted to killing Roger. Once the floodgates opened, Nelson made a detailed confession and led cops to the spot where the boy’s body had been found.   

He told detectives he met Roger near the Pelican Island Bridge. Spotting the bag of newspapers, Roger informed Nelson he would like go into the business. Nelson advised Roger that there was “no money in newspaper work.” Then, hoping to sell his parents a paper, he asked the boy where they lived.

Roger pointed to Pelican Island and told Nelson the address. For some reason, the answer enraged Nelson. He accused Roger of lying, then shoved him off his bicycle. Before the boy could escape, Nelson pulled “the handle of a heavy hammer” from his pocket and began to pummel Roger. He said he couldn’t remember if the hammer head was attached.

“[Roger] fell to the ground but was still breathing,” Nelson said.

He stated that he continued to beat the boy until he was sure Roger was dead. Then he hid the body and bicycle and walked away as if nothing had happened.

Nelson, locked away in the Brevard County jail, spoke freely to reporters and clergymen. His story was always the same: he killed the boy because he believed Roger had lied to him.

Because of his mental disability, Nelson escaped Old Sparky, Florida’s dreaded electric chair. On November 2, 1951, circuit judge Lamar Warren issued an order to commit Nelson to the Chattahoochee state mental hospital in Tallahassee. This ruling came after a competency hearing in which the state attorney’s office and Nelson’s defense attorney agreed the killer's mental age was that of a child between “six to nine years old.”

 

The Folwell family continued to live in Fort Lauderdale for many years. Roger Folwell, Sr. owned a business flying customers to Bimini and back. Maxine was occasionally seen in the news hosting social events around town.

Their daughter, Susan, married a local businessman and continued to reside in Fort Lauderdale.

Roger Folwell, Sr. died in 1969 at age 54 and Maxine took her own life at age 64.

The sad fact is that Robert William Nelson murdered two people, not one.

After Maxine’s death, the Fort Lauderdale News attempted to locate Nelson, but Chattahoochee’s staff claimed he was no longer a patient. They thought he’d been released years before. The News never tracked down the cold-blooded killer of Roger Folwell. 

The Churchgoer and the Killer

Amish Teen Kidnapped, Raped and Murdered on her Way Home from Church

By Robert A. Waters

In the middle of a clear day, on Stumptown Road in Bird-in-Hand, Pennsylvania, Linda Stoltzfoos vanished. That Sunday morning, the eighteen-year-old Amish girl had been walking home from church. She planned to change clothes, then attend a youth group meeting from 2:00 until 11:00 p.m. When Linda didn’t come home that night, her father reported her missing.

Bird-in-Hand is a township of about 400 souls. Most residents are Amish. Neat farms dot the landscape, and cars mingle with distinctive Amish buggies on its roads. Crime of any sort is almost non-existent, much less an abduction. For that reason, many lawmen thought Linda might have run away.

As soon as word went out, the Amish community showed up in force to scour the fields, pastures, and woodlands for one of their own. In addition to hundreds of searchers, investigators from the East Lampeter Township Police Department, Lancaster County Sheriff’s Office, and even the FBI, joined the desperate hunt. Linda was described as being five-feet, ten inches tall and weighing about 125 pounds. She wore a tan dress, a white apron and cape, and a black head covering.

K-9 teams followed scents and horsemen beat through woodland trails and streams. As the day wore on, helicopters, drones, and dogs joined the search. That evening, more than a hundred people held an impromptu prayer vigil.

Friends told investigators that the teen was happy with her lifestyle and would never run away. She didn’t own a cellphone, nor did she have a boyfriend. She worked as an assistant at a local school, helping to tutor students with learning disabilities. Linda was last seen walking away from the church barefoot, holding her shoes in her hand. She would likely have walked along Stumptown Road to get to her home.

A resident, Isaac Esh, told investigators he’d been sitting on his front porch at about 12:30 p.m. when he saw a red sedan drive past his home. Police reports state the car was “traveling East on Stumptown Road coming from the area of Linda’s church then turned around on Red Lane. It paused for approximately one minute before traveling back west on Stumptown Road.” Esh described the driver as a “white man with dark skin.”

Several other witnesses reported seeing an “Amish girl” riding in a bright red Kia Rio compact car with a distinctive spoiler on it. Fortunately, several homeowners in the area had surveillance video cameras pointing toward the highway. Footage confirmed the tips. One witness thought the car’s movements suspicious enough to write down the license plate number. A records check revealed the car belonged to Justo Roberto Smoker, 35. Detectives felt sure it was the same vehicle spotted by witnesses. Smoker was employed by Dutchland, Inc., so investigators drove to the business. There they saw the car sitting in the parking lot. Comparing the rear spoiler and a distinctive “LCM” sticker on the back, cops knew they had a match.

Meanwhile, searchers located some of the girl’s clothing, including her bra and stockings buried behind Dutchland, Inc. Semen stains found on the stockings matched Smoker’s DNA profile. Linda, however, was still missing and lawmen were not hopeful that she would be found alive.

Detectives arrested Justo Smoker and charged him with criminal homicide, felony kidnapping, and false imprisonment. In addition to the witness identifications and surveillance videos, his cellphone records proved he’d been in the area at the time Linda vanished.

As police studied the videos collected from residents of the area, they realized that one 40-second clip showed the actual abduction. As the red Kia passed by Esh's home, it stopped and sat on the side of the road for a minute, then turned back and headed toward the church Linda attended. During that moment of time, the video portrays a figure (i.e., Justo Smoker) walking across Stumptown Road as Linda came by. A legal affidavit states that “after encountering Stoltzfoos, there appears to be motion toward the area of the head of Stoltzfoos consistent with placing something over her head and two people walking back toward the parked car at 12:41.”

Smoker initially pleaded “not guilty,” but when he learned prosecutors were seeking the death penalty, he decided to make a deal. As part of the agreement, Smoker led investigators to a shallow grave in a heavily wooded area.

Exactly ten months after her disappearance, investigators from the Lancaster County Sheriff’s Office, Pennsylvania State Police, and FBI recovered Linda’s remains. Dental records revealed what they already knew--that the remains were indeed those of Stoltzfoos. An autopsy showed she’d been strangled to death and stabbed in the neck with a knife. During his confession, cops learned Smoker had moved the body from its original grave to a spot behind his place of employment.

Assistant Lancaster County District Attorney Todd Brown told reporters that after Smoker sexually assaulted his victim, he “approached Linda from behind and choked her with his arm under her neck and then with shoelaces until she was no longer breathing. He then stabbed her in the neck one time to ensure that she was dead.” The coroner said Linda was still alive when she was stabbed.

Justo may have been stalking Amish women. In the days prior to Linda’s kidnapping, there were many sightings of him driving up and down the roads as Amish girls walked along. According to his own family, he had been “trouble” all his life. Born in Costa Rica, the suspect had spent his first seven years in an orphanage. After his birth mother died, Vernon and Deb Smoker of Lancaster adopted him and his brother. While still in high school, Smoker developed a drug habit and committed a series of robberies to stoke his habit. Stores and farmer’s markets were his favorite targets. In his crimes, he used a BB gun that looked like a real firearm to terrorize clerks.  Justo received ten years in prison for his crimes and was released on parole in 2019.

Smoker pleaded guilty to third degree murder, kidnapping, abuse of a corpse, tampering with evidence and possession of an instrument of crime. He received 37 ½ to 71 years. In addition, he will serve 17 ½ years for violating his parole.

Lancaster County Judge David Ashworth thundered from bench that the “senseless killing of Linda Stoltzfoos is contrary to all we hold dear in a civilized society.”

As his mother wept in the courtroom, Smoker turned to the audience and said, “They raised me better than this.”

Wanted by the FBI: Andrew P. Dabbs

 

Five Little-Known Unsolved Murders

I began publishing this blog in 2008. While I've written many stories about high-profile murders, I purposefully seek out cold cases that for some reason never made it onto the big media stage. Here are five little-known cases that I hope will someday be solved. 

DOROTHY "DEE" SCOFIELD.

This stranger abduction took place in my hometown of Ocala, Florida. On a scorching summer day in 1976, 12-year-old Dee vanished in the middle of a busy parking lot. Investigators never developed any solid leads in this real-life mystery. 

DANNY DEWEY.

Danny Dewey was dealt a bad hand in life. His death was even worse.  A perfect victim, 17-year-old Danny's father had deserted his family and his mother had died, leaving the unfortunate teen to travel alone through life, penniless and aimless. In 1979, a serial predator operated in Louisiana, targeting teenage boys, including Danny. After murdering three teens in the same bizarre way, the killer abruptly stopped his sick rampage. He was never identified.

ALEXANDER WINSPEARE.

The victim of this murder-gone-cold was an anonymous old man living out the last days of his lonely life. The 93-year-old World War I veteran was a widower with few friends. Winspeare lived in a small house trailer, never bothering anyone. On one crisp fall morning, someone broke in and killed him. The murderer robbed the place of a few dollars, then fled into the night, never to be found.

LITTLE MISS LAKE PANASOFFKEE.

We don't even know her name. She was strangled and thrown off a bridge. At one time, she seemed to have had a loving family, but her life had gone awry. In her late teens or early twenties, the victim was shown on the show, "Unsolved Mysteries." Like her name, her killer is unknown. 

LINDA RAULERSON.

I've written two stories about the senseless murder of Linda Raulerson because this case should be solvable. Investigators have a video showing her murder and her killer, as well as the car he was driving. The YouTube video has had hundreds of thousands of viewers, yet this loving mother and wife has yet to receive the justice she deserves. Raulerson, a store clerk, was yet another victim of convenience store violence, among the most dangerous jobs in America. Read my follow-up story for more information.

Convicted of Three Murders and Released to Kill Again

"I had no alternative but to kill her..."

Written by Robert A. Waters

Palm Beach Post staff writer Gary Blankenship summarized Nollie Lee Martin's first murders. "On the night of June 8, 1972, fire raced up a stairway toward two apartments on the second floor of a High Point, North Carolina apartment building. The smoke killed Josephine Hogan, 48, and her two daughters, Linda, 10, and Karen, 14, the occupants of one of the apartments upstairs."

Six other residents escaped the blaze. In addition, a husband and wife, Nollie Lee Martin and Brenda, suffered burns on their bodies. Both were hospitalized but soon released. While still in the hospital, Martin was charged with setting the fire. He confessed, telling investigators he was angry with his wife because she wished to leave him.

The killer was convicted of second-degree murder and sentenced to 18 to 30 years in prison. But four-and-a-half years after his incarceration, the state released Martin due to prison overcrowding.

The ex-con's good luck continued. Jonathan Forbes, a second cousin who owned a service station in Delray Beach, Florida, offered Martin a job. The North Carolina parole board, happy to rid the state of a brutal killer, accepted Martin's request to move to Florida for his new job. The board never contacted local law enforcement agencies and Martin did not have to report to any parole board.

The killer of three, now left to his own devices in a place where almost no one knew of his background, began planning new crimes.

                                                                                                                                                              

In the summer of 1977, nineteen-year-old Patricia Greenfield had completed her first year at George Washington University in Washington, D.C. and returned home to Boynton Beach, Florida for the summer. The attractive honor student landed a job working at a Delray Beach convenience store to save money for her next semester.

In Martin vs State, a 1982 appeals court outlined the case: "Patricia Greenfield was an employee of a Cumberland Farm Food Store on 2235 N. Seacrest Blvd in Delray Beach. On June 25, 1977 two men entered the store, robbed it, and abducted Ms. Greenfield. Her body was discovered a few days later on a garbage dump. Investigation led to the arrest of [Nollie Lee Martin] and Gary Forbes for the robbery and murder." Patty, as she was called, was initially identified by the corduroy slacks and plaid shirt she wore. Lying outside for more than a week in the Florida heat, she was so badly decomposed the coroner was unable to determine the cause of death. Dental records ultimately proved that the deceased girl was Patty.

Working alone at 9:45 p.m., Patty was getting ready to close up when Martin and Forbes entered the store and carried two cases of beer to the counter. As she started to ring up the tab, Martin pulled a filet knife from his pocket and placed her in a chokehold. He took $91.00 from the till and forced her from the store. Three people, waiting outside a pizza restaurant across the street, heard Patty scream and watched as she was hustled into Forbes' car and taken away. The witnesses called 911 to report the abduction.

Investigators from the Palm Beach Sheriff's Department descended on the store. Using helicopters and road patrols, they searched for a "white Ford sedan" witnesses reported the kidnappers used to escape. (The car was actually a Dodge Dart.) Hundreds of lawmen from surrounding jurisdictions flooded in to assist in the search, but came up empty.

Martin vs State describes Patricia Greenfield's last moments. "Martin and Forbes drove [Greenfield] back to Martin's apartment and blindfolded her along the way with Martin's shirt. The sworn testimony and confessions indicate that each man committed forcible sexual battery on the victim at the apartment. The victim was transported away from the apartment, still blindfolded and under the assurances that she would be released at a remote area. After driving some distance in a rather aimless fashion, the automobile arrived at the vicinity of the Lantana Dump and the defendant, Nollie Lee Martin, walked the victim away from the view of Forbes. According to Forbes, the defendant Martin, stated that he attempted to strangle or suffocate the victim with the use of a short piece of rope but that she recovered her breath each time that he thought she had succumbed. He then stabbed her several times in the throat. The autopsy revealed that she died of these stab wounds and suggests at least an inference that there was some struggle before the death strokes were administered."

After murdering Patricia Greenfield, Martin kidnapped another victim and raped her. Before he could kill her, however, she escaped and led investigators to her attacker. Martin was arrested and, due to the similarities in the crimes, became a suspect in the store kidnapping and murder. Under interrogation, he confessed. "I had no alternative but to kill," he told detectives.

Convicted of First-Degree Murder, Martin was sentenced to death in Florida's electric chair. Forbes, who had also confessed and showed remorse, received life without parole. Over more than fifteen years, three governors, two Democrat and one Republican, signed death warrants for Martin. 

While on death row, Martin was a whiner. He first attempted to get his death warrant overturned by feigning insanity. (A federal judge made the unusual ruling that he had been faking symptoms of mental illness.) "I may not be insane right now," he said, "but I was insane when I committed this horrible crime." When his insanity defense failed, he claimed to be "retarded." Even though his lawyers fought to the bitter end to save him, they failed.

On May 12, 1992, he was electrocuted at Raiford Prison.

Just before being strapped into Old Sparky, Martin made a final statement. "My suffering will be over in a few minutes," he said. "I don't think it's right to keep someone locked up for 15 years then kill them."

He also stated that he hoped to meet Patricia Greenfield in heaven.

I'm sure Nollie Lee Martin is the last person she would want to see.

The Sunshine Skyway Bridge Disaster

A Question of Randomness

Written by Robert A. Waters

Humans are designed for introspection. When a tragedy occurs, we want to know why. But sometimes the reasons can be so complex as to be thought random. The 1980 collapse of the Sunshine Skyway Bridge in Tampa Bay is an example. Many inquests were held, but, in the end, investigators concluded that the disaster was “an act of God.”

On May 8, John Calloway, 19, boarded a Greyhound bus in Alabama. A student at Tuskegee Institute, he planned to spend the summer with his family in Miami. Shortly after 7:30 on the morning of the 9^th, the Greyhound began its climb up the Skyway. As it approached the summit, Calloway likely noticed the darkening sky, the driving rain, the bus shaking as hurricane gusts pounded the bridge.

Jim Pryor, an engineer, crossed the bridge every week-day morning to go to work in Bradenton, 45 miles from his home near St. Petersburg. A family man with a wife and three children, on that morning he drove part-way toward Bradenton, then recalled that he had forgotten a lawn mower needed at his business. He turned around and headed back home. Throwing the mower into the trunk of his car, Pryor headed out again. Normally, at 7:34, he would have been at his workplace and settling into his office, but today he was on the Skyway bridge.

Wesley MacIntire was also en route to his job. Decades before, he had been the lone survivor of another tragedy. Bill DeYoung, who penned a book on the Skyway collapse, wrote, “On June 6, 1944, during the Allied invasion at Normandy, MacIntire’s landing craft came under attack; he was the only one not killed.” On this morning, high up on the bridge, winds shook his Ford Courier pickup and the rain blinded his view of the road.

The Sunshine Skyway Bridge bridge had been constructed to allow vessels of any size to pass underneath it. That morning, the Summit Venture, headed for Tampa, was loaded with 20,000 tons of phosphate.  As the storm intensified, the ship was blown off-course and struck one of the pilings. Above, a thirteen-hundred-foot span of the bridge collapsed.

The storm had swept out of nowhere. DeYoung wrote, “[The storm] wasn’t supposed to be there. Yet there it was, a squall of such intensity that visibility on Tampa Bay was reduced to practically zero, the wind gusts up to 70-75 miles per hour, hurricane force, a solid wall of blinding rain blown horizontally against the ship’s wheelhouse windows, swirling and angry and changing direction in an instant.” Weather experts studying nearby Doppler radars later concluded that a violent weather phenomenon called a microburst had been present in the squall and added to its fierceness.

150 feet above, drivers were unable to see the collapsing structure.

Eight vehicles and a Greyhound bus plummeted into the water. Thirty-five souls perished, including 26 on the bus.

John Calloway, the teenage student, died. He was later pulled from the bus and identified.

Jim Pryor also died. Divers found him still in his car. On normal days, he would have already been at work when the storm arrived.

Wesley MacIntire survived. As his truck spun off the bridge, he said he slammed on his brakes, but by that time he was in mid-air. As it fell, MacIntire’s pickup grazed the hull of the Summit Venture, then plunged into the water and quickly sank to the bottom. With all the force he could muster, he wrenched open a damaged door, swam for the dim light he saw above, and burst to the surface just in time. The crew of the stricken ship rescued him.

A random tragedy? An “act of God?” Why did 35 people die while one did not? A lone car skidded to a halt exactly one foot from the edge of the collapsed bridge. Was it luck that the driver survived? A series of lengthy investigations concluded that no one could have prevented the catastrophe. Lawsuits brought against the ship’s owners and the state of Florida were thrown out of court because no one was determined to be at blame.

Florida author Bill DeYoung wrote an excellent series of articles about the Skyway's collapse published in St. Pete Catalyst, a modern news magazine. He also penned a book about the tragedy entitled, Skyway: The True Story of Tampa Bay’s Signature Bridge Collapse and the Man Who Brought it Down. I highly recommend both the book and the Catalyst story.

Falling through the cracks

The Bridge

Written by Robert A. Waters

Since it was built 40 years ago, the Sunshine Skyway Bridge connecting St. Petersburg to Tampa, Florida has been a harbinger of tragedy. The four-mile-long bridge rises like a mastodon 430 feet into the bright sunlight. On or around the bridge, there have been hundreds of suicides, as well as deadly shipwrecks. And in 2016, there was the heinous murder of a child let down by the very system designed to protect her.

Phoebe Jonchuck lived for five years in obvious danger from her psycho father, yet few steps were taken to safeguard her. Somehow John Jonchuck kept custody of his daughter for those years. Along the way, many citizens reported odd, violent, and threatening encounters with him, but Florida's Department of Family and Children did nothing...

...Then, on a night when strong winds shook cars crossing the Dick Misener Bridge, Phoebe's father stopped his white PT Cruiser and stepped out into the swirling rain. William Vickers, an off-duty police officer who had spotted Jonchuck racing through the night at 100 miles per hour, pulled in behind him. Jonchuck emerged, holding Phoebe. Ignoring Vickers, her father peered into the water below. By now, the cop had drawn his gun and later testified he "felt fear," both for himself and the child. He ordered Jonchuck to put her down. But the disturbed father mumbled several unintelligible phrases, then looked at Vickers and said, "You have no free will." As Vickers looked on in horror, Jonchuck casually tossed Phoebe over the railing.

She fell 62 feet, her screams echoing into the darkness.

The Misener Bridge is part of a four-mile-long span called the Sunshine Skyway Bridge that connects St. Petersburg to Tampa. The "Skyway," as it's called by locals, has a dark history of deadly accidents, suicides, and murder. Nearly 400 people have died after jumping from its acrophobic heights. A United States Coast Guard cutter sank just beneath the bridge during a violent thunderstorm, drowning 24 guardsmen. A year later, during yet another storm, the MV Summit Venture, a ship from Texas, slammed into the pilings beneath the bridge, knocking away a portion of roadway. A Greyhound bus plunged into the depths below, killing everyone on board. Several cars plummeted down, also sinking into the murky water. In all, 35 souls lost their lives in that catastrophe.

Phoebe Jonchuck lived her whole life in the shadow of that bridge. After her murder, a Hillsborough County Child Fatality inquiry summarized that "at her time of the death incident, Phoebe resided with her father (the custodial parent), and she occasionally visited with her mother, Michelle Kerr-29. The death occurred during an open investigation regarding concerns for the mother's ability to meet Phoebe's needs when the child would visit."

As happens so often in these kinds of cases, heavy drug use seemed rampant among most, if not all, the adults in Phoebe's life. During her five years, the child lived in at least fifteen different residences, and, with her father, was homeless for a period of time. Abrupt moves, violent encounters, and the ravings of a madman provided no safe haven for Phoebe. John, who rarely worked, hated his ex-partner. On the day of the crime, he had been attempting to keep Kerr from maintaining visitation rights.

Carol Marbin Miller of the Miami Herald wrote: "By age 5, Phoebe Jonchuck already had a significant history with child protection authorities: Her father, they were told, was habitually violent with domestic partners, and had been accused of 'smacking' his daughter in the face. Phoebe's mother, according to reports to the agency, was a meth user who had been charged with cruelty to another child in 2008." Six times in the past two-and-a-half years, the Department of Children and Family had received calls about possible abuse of the child.

Although John sometimes gave appearances of being a loving father, his life was riddled with turmoil, almost all caused by him. Phoebe told at least one acquaintance that she was afraid of her father. Her grandparents sometimes kept the girl, but according to newspaper reports, seemed terrified of their son. The Herald reported that Jonchuck had an arrest history "that included aggravated assault with a weapon, 'multiple charges' of domestic battery, and larceny. Kerr, the girl's mother, had been charged with child abuse. A former landlord told an investigator he'd found 'drug paraphernalia' in the couple's home, had found doors 'kicked in' on several occasions, and had been forced to replace windows that had been smashed in by the couple." He told investigators that Jonchuck and Kerr's behavior was extremely erratic.

Family members informed reporters that Jonchuck had been involuntarily committed to mental health facilities a staggering 27 times. On each occasion, he was released and Phoebe was sent back to live with him.

On July 10, 2016, the day Phoebe died, John went to see his court-appointed attorney, Genevieve Torres. Phoebe, dressed in a pink dress and blue jacket, tagged along. John wore pajamas and carried a huge antique Bible written in a foreign language. Torres stated that Jonchuck called her "St. Genevieve," the "Creator," and "God." He insisted that she read the "Swedish" Bible he had brought. Recognizing Jonchuck's mental instability, she quickly got rid of him. As he was leaving, Jonchuck commented, "None of this is going to matter tomorrow anyway."

As soon as Jonchuck left, Torres phoned a child endangerment hotline, warning the operator that Jonchuck was deranged and taking his daughter with him while he was having an episode. The Florida Times Union reported that "Torres also told the operator, who was inexperienced, that the [Department of Family and Children] had an open investigation after an earlier caller accused Jonchuck of violence, substance abuse, and inadequate supervision." Torres also informed the operator that Jonchuck kept calling her office every five minutes. She stated "he's out of control." The operator refused to report the call to authorities.

Later that night, Phoebe was dead. An autopsy revealed that she had died of a combination of hypothermia and drowning.

She'd been enrolled in kindergarten. Her teachers stated she was good-natured and smart. She loved to sing and the color purple. Attentive, curious, and sensitive, her grandparents enjoyed keeping her, as long as Jonchuck wasn't there. 

After he was arrested, Jonchuck spent four years in a mental hospital, having been found incompetent to stand trial. In 2019, he was finally adjudged sane enough to be tried. Jurors turned down his insanity defense and found him guilty of first-degree murder. Jonchuck received a life sentence with no chance of parole.

Phoebe was failed by both Florida's mental health system and child protective services. Her father was an obvious danger to anyone around him, particularly his daughter. How he could maintain custody of Phoebe with his mental deficiencies, law enforcement issues, and drug usage baffles my mind.

The Sentencing of Elizabeth Rodriguez

“Hitting a lick”

By Robert A. Waters

Elizabeth Rodriguez told reporter Tina Whitworth, “I feel guilty, but not responsible” for the deaths of Maxwell Cook, 18, Jacob Redfearn, 18, and Jaykob Woodruff, 15.

The March 27, 2017 home invasion near Broken Arrow, Oklahoma had gone incredibly bad. Rodriguez, single mother of three children, had planned the heist and coerced the trio to go along with her plan. (Earlier that morning, they had broken into the home’s detached garage and stolen electronic equipment and liquor.) Now, in the mid-afternoon, they were back to ransack the main dwelling.

Later, a Wagoner County probable cause affidavit stated that “Rodriguez planned the burglary and took the three suspects to the residence on two separate occasions on today’s date wanting to steal items. [She] instructed the three suspects to burglarize the residence while she waited in the driveway in her vehicle...”

After kicking in a back door to the large brick home, the masked intruders entered the kitchen. 

Zachary Peters, 23, lay sleeping when he heard “loud bangs” and glass breaking. Frightened, he grabbed his AR-15 semiautomatic rifle and stepped into the hallway. He saw three men standing in the kitchen. Each wore masks, gloves, and dark clothing. After a brief verbal exchange, Peters opened fire. He then retreated to his bedroom and called 9-1-1.

Outside, Rodriguez heard the gunshots. Seconds later, Jaykob Woodruff stumbled out to the getaway car. He informed Rodriguez he’d been shot, then fell to the pavement. Rodriguez sped off.

Peters told the dispatcher that “one [invader is] in the kitchen, one crawled into the northeast corner bedroom, and the third one I did not shoot. He ran outside.” Peters was mistaken, all three died at the scene.

He later testified that he was afraid for his life. When asked if the suspects had harmed him, he said, “I didn’t give them time to.”

This was not the first break-in the group had committed. Rodriguez admitted that they had done other “licks” in the area. Often, they drove around casing homes in expensive neighborhoods, then fenced the items they stole. She informed investigators that the three teens had not wanted to go back to the Peters residence that day, but she talked them into it.

Even though the Wagoner County District Attorney stated he felt bad for the parents of the deceased intruders, Peters was not charged with any crime. In fact, it was an open and shut case of self-defense.

Rodriguez pleaded guilty to three counts of second-degree murder and received three concurrent 45 year sentences. 

In an unusual twist to this story, none of the teens had police records. In each case, they had strayed from the teachings of loving parents. Max Cook, for instance lived with both parents in a traditional family setting. He played guitar, went to church, and graduated from high school. Yet, even though Rodriguez was five years his senior and had three young children, Max became enamored with the California native. He moved in with her and they began stealing for living.

The deaths of the three teens rocked Oklahoma. Many residents wondered how normal teenagers who grew up in loving homes could make such bad choices. Others asked why the victim (Peters) needed to use a semi-automatic weapon to defend himself. Some questioned the Castle Doctrine law prevalent in Oklahoma and many other states. A handful disapproved of the Felony Murder law that allowed Rodriguez to be charged with murder even though she didn't kill anyone.

One thing is clear. Oklahoma is better off with Elizabeth Rodriguez in prison for the rest of her existence. Her negative influence on three teenagers cost them their lives. For that, she should not be forgiven.

NOTE: When I originally published this story, I mistakenly wrote that the three sentences were consecutive. Several readers corrected me. Thanks. 

Man Hanged Hero Dog

The Cruelest Act

By Robert A. Waters

 On December 1, 1937, Daniel Bartlett, 15, and his brother, Bernard, 13, were playing around the old Glen Haven Line Bridge in Irondequoit, New York, when they came upon a gruesome sight. Dangling by a rope from bridge rafters was Laddie, described as a “mongrel collie-shepherd.” Claw marks on the concrete showed that the dog had not gone to his death gently.

Laddie had achieved a degree of renown in the small community for saving the lives of three children over a five-year period.

Superintendent William J. Boyink of the Humane Society told reporters that “for inhumaneness, this is one of the worst cases that [has] ever come to my attention.” He stated the Society would push local police to press animal cruelty charges against the perpetrator, if caught.

Roy McLean, 13, was one of those saved by Laddie. “It was four years ago,” reported the Rochester Democrat and Chronicle, “that [Roy] was caught in the swift current of the Irondequoit Bay outlet and realized he couldn’t make the shore. As he cried for help, Laddie plunged into the water, swam to the side of the youngster, and then made for shore with Roy clinging to his collar.”

Police, sheriff’s deputies, and members of the humane society began trailing the killer. They got a clue when they discovered the pet’s owner, Mr. Robert McLean, had found Laddie’s collar tied to the doorknob of their home. McLean, who owned a business in town, had recently fired fifty-year-old Ferdinand Gagnon for incompetence and told police this might be the man’s way of “getting back.”

Police located Gagnon, who quickly admitted to the cruel act. He stated that after being terminated, “the dog followed me out and, since I never did like it and knew the family did, I cut a piece of clothesline down and hanged it.”

The newspaper recounted another time the dog saved the lives of two children at once. The boys were out in a boat when one, Jackie Reeves, tumbled into the water. The second child dove in to save his friend but Reeves panicked and begin pushing his friend under. Laddie jumped in and swam toward the boys. They each grabbed his collar and he towed them to safety.

After being informed of Laddie’s brutal death, Roy McLean began sobbing. “Laddie’s dead now,” he told reporters. “But I would like to know who did it. Laddie never hurt anyone. Only Friday he was playing with us boys on the lawn while we were waiting for Santa Claus to appear.”

Ferdinand Gagnon pleaded guilty to animal cruelty and was sentenced to 30 days in jail. Many residents thought that was not enough.