Read Online The Man Who Killed Boys by Clifford L. Linedecker - Free Book Online Page B
Authors: Clifford L. Linedecker
Tags: Social Science, Criminology
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cronies, he made certain that they knew he had obtained them from chums on the team.
Charlie Hill and his wife watched more than one Blackhawk game with tickets provided by their friend. Chicago was headquarters for the motel chain Hill worked for and periodically he and his wife visited Chicago for a few days on business. Hill looked forward at those times to seeking out his old friend.
Pottinger, too, visited in Chicago with Gacy, although less often than the Hills. But the onetime Iowa convict was busy making new friends and reaffirming family ties. Iowa was behind him and his immediate future was clearly linked to Chicago.
His mother was pleased at the ease with which Gacy was readjusting to civilian life. The prison experience was fading into the past where it belonged. Any worry she may have had of lingering trauma was dispelled when, some four months after his return to Chicago, her son decided that he wanted a house of his own. He had been cooped up for eighteen months in cramped spaces with thousands of other men, and a house of his own would give him some much appreciated privacy and breathing room.
It seemed that there couldn't be a better sign that he was adjusting to his new life. His mother agreed to help with the financing when he found himself a comfortable two-bedroom ranch house a few blocks outside the northwest Chicago city limits. The attractive little house was on a quiet one-way westbound street at 8213 West Summerdale Avenue in an unincorporated area of Norwood Park township. Gacy became half-owner, and his mother and sisters were named as owners of the remainder.
It was a good neighborhood to settle in. The homes were as clean and as solidly constructed as the people who lived and raised families in them. Each had its own driveway, garage, and scrupulously manicured lawn in front and back. The street was rarely used except by residents and their guests, but was convenient to busy arterial roads that carry traffic to nearby expressways, towns, and shopping centers.
The neighborhood was family-oriented. Most of the families in the neatly kept bungalows and ranch-style homes were headed by men who worked in blue-collar professions. Many were of East European stock. They were people who kept their houses in good condition inside and out. If the man of the house stretched out in front of the television set with a beer in his hand and a six-pack at his side to watch Sunday afternoon football, it was only after the grass had been mowed, the leaves raked, or the balky carburetor on his car or pickup truck readjusted.
The neighbors knew each other, and it was a good safe place to raise children. Parents didn't have to be afraid of letting their children play outside. Teenage girls looked forward to careers as secretaries, shop clerks, waitresses, housewives, and mothers. They weren't insulted if they were asked to do housework or baby-sit with the neighbor children. Their brothers tinkered with rattletrap cars, pumped gasoline, or got part-time jobs as stock boys in supermarkets. After leaving high school they followed their fathers into jobs as production-line workers, plumbers, carpenters, and mechanics.
Part of a three-block tract of homes erected in the mid-1950s, Gacy's sturdily constructed house was built with a yellow shingle front, wooden sides painted red, and a green shingled sloped roof. A garage was at the rear, with small lawns at the front and back. A previous owner had added two rooms to the rear of the house, a dining room and a playroom for a daughter. The addition was built over supporting two-by-twelve-inch joists, with plywood flooring lowered a few inches so that it was necessary to step down to enter that part of the house from the main living area. There was also a living room, a utility room, and bath.
A trap door leading to a four-foot-deep crawl space that hugged the foundation of the original house was built into the floor of a bedroom closet. Most of the houses in the
Charlie Hill and his wife watched more than one Blackhawk game with tickets provided by their friend. Chicago was headquarters for the motel chain Hill worked for and periodically he and his wife visited Chicago for a few days on business. Hill looked forward at those times to seeking out his old friend.
Pottinger, too, visited in Chicago with Gacy, although less often than the Hills. But the onetime Iowa convict was busy making new friends and reaffirming family ties. Iowa was behind him and his immediate future was clearly linked to Chicago.
His mother was pleased at the ease with which Gacy was readjusting to civilian life. The prison experience was fading into the past where it belonged. Any worry she may have had of lingering trauma was dispelled when, some four months after his return to Chicago, her son decided that he wanted a house of his own. He had been cooped up for eighteen months in cramped spaces with thousands of other men, and a house of his own would give him some much appreciated privacy and breathing room.
It seemed that there couldn't be a better sign that he was adjusting to his new life. His mother agreed to help with the financing when he found himself a comfortable two-bedroom ranch house a few blocks outside the northwest Chicago city limits. The attractive little house was on a quiet one-way westbound street at 8213 West Summerdale Avenue in an unincorporated area of Norwood Park township. Gacy became half-owner, and his mother and sisters were named as owners of the remainder.
It was a good neighborhood to settle in. The homes were as clean and as solidly constructed as the people who lived and raised families in them. Each had its own driveway, garage, and scrupulously manicured lawn in front and back. The street was rarely used except by residents and their guests, but was convenient to busy arterial roads that carry traffic to nearby expressways, towns, and shopping centers.
The neighborhood was family-oriented. Most of the families in the neatly kept bungalows and ranch-style homes were headed by men who worked in blue-collar professions. Many were of East European stock. They were people who kept their houses in good condition inside and out. If the man of the house stretched out in front of the television set with a beer in his hand and a six-pack at his side to watch Sunday afternoon football, it was only after the grass had been mowed, the leaves raked, or the balky carburetor on his car or pickup truck readjusted.
The neighbors knew each other, and it was a good safe place to raise children. Parents didn't have to be afraid of letting their children play outside. Teenage girls looked forward to careers as secretaries, shop clerks, waitresses, housewives, and mothers. They weren't insulted if they were asked to do housework or baby-sit with the neighbor children. Their brothers tinkered with rattletrap cars, pumped gasoline, or got part-time jobs as stock boys in supermarkets. After leaving high school they followed their fathers into jobs as production-line workers, plumbers, carpenters, and mechanics.
Part of a three-block tract of homes erected in the mid-1950s, Gacy's sturdily constructed house was built with a yellow shingle front, wooden sides painted red, and a green shingled sloped roof. A garage was at the rear, with small lawns at the front and back. A previous owner had added two rooms to the rear of the house, a dining room and a playroom for a daughter. The addition was built over supporting two-by-twelve-inch joists, with plywood flooring lowered a few inches so that it was necessary to step down to enter that part of the house from the main living area. There was also a living room, a utility room, and bath.
A trap door leading to a four-foot-deep crawl space that hugged the foundation of the original house was built into the floor of a bedroom closet. Most of the houses in the
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