253 Slices
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4 America

Gary M. Lavergne University of North Texas Press PDF

chapter four

America

“He believes that there is something extremely special about him.”

—Dr. Sheldon Zigelbaum

Psychiatrist for the Defense

I

T

he tragedy of September 11, 2001, the terrorist attacks upon

New York City and Washington, D.C., focused attention on how visitors of other nations come to the United States. Some of the resulting debate included observations that it was too easy for dangerous people to penetrate American borders. Since that tragedy, pundits and many citizens voiced concern over the failings of intelligence services like the Central Intelligence Agency (CIA) and the Federal Bureau of Investigation (FBI) to preemptively identify visitors, legal and illegal, capable of such a monstrous crime. Included in the discussion were hard, pointed questions about the inability of the Immigration and Naturalization Service (INS) to keep track of those already within our borders.

Yet the United States clings to its heritage of openness. To close our borders is to close off ourselves to international ideas and influences. To close our borders is to reject our heritage. To close our borders is itself anti-American.

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6 A Position for Tragedy

Gary M. Lavergne University of North Texas Press PDF

chapter six

A Position for Tragedy

“I don’t like him. He stares at me.”

—Linda Lowe

I

L

inda Lowe was not one to sit home alone with her two cats.

She very much enjoyed patrolling the Dallas nightclub scene to listen to musicians. On different occasions she had been a member of several “all-girl” musical groups. On Tuesday, June 26, 1984, she called her brother Wade and told him that later in the week she was going to a place called Ianni’s to listen to a band. Wade later related that she was looking for talented musicians to form a new group.1 She was an outgoing person who clearly liked being around others, so she may have grown tired of playing the piano by herself.

Linda was planning to surprise Wade for his upcoming birthday by picking him up in a limo and taking him out for a nice dinner. Those who knew Linda would not have been surprised by her “very generous” and considerate nature, her mother later said.

Linda even sent her brother a Father’s Day card. The bartenders at the nightclubs, who came to know her as a person and a performer, all gushed about how “sweet and nice” she was.2 No one, it seems, had anything negative to say about her—except Abdelkrim

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CHAPTER SIX

John C. Espy Karnac Books PDF

CHAPTER SIX

John Cameron

John Cameron was born in Duluth, Minnesota and graduated from high school there in 1979. He is a handsome man, about six foot tall and 170 pounds. Cameron looks like someone that didn’t have any hair at birth and never got any as he grew up.

He entered the police academy right out of high school and moved to Montana in early 1981, to accept a position as a patrol officer with the Great Falls Police Department.

His first partner, who was “crusty and ugly,” had been laying his tracks around the city for thirty years. On his first day on the job, Cameron and his partner were called to a disturbance when an altercation developed. The assailant pulled a gun on

Cameron’s partner. His partner who was quicker on the draw, drew his .357 and “blew the guy’s arm clean off.” Cameron stood watching the guy roll around on the ground with blood spurting out of the socket where his arm had been, wondering what the hell he had gotten himself into. In 1989 Cameron got his detective shield and in ’94 he was made sergeant. He went back to patrol duty while still having the responsibility of managing sixteen other detectives. In 1997, Cameron was pulled back inside to start the new cold case division. A couple

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Medium 9781574410723

7 Going to College

Gary M. Lavergne University of North Texas Press PDF

7

Going to College

“This guy is sitting by somebody’s wife and somebody’s daughter in class!”

—Parnell McNamara,

Deputy United States Marshal

I

At the beginning of 1991, McDuff reported to his Temple parole officer that he was working in a warehouse in the Dallas area as a forklift operator. Six days later he asked to transfer his parole supervision to the Dallas

District. But less than two weeks after that he reported to his Temple parole officer that he was back in Temple living with J. A. and Addie.

Kenneth’s aging parents apparently had little energy for raising a fortyfive-year-old teenager; McDuff moved into the Jean Motel in Temple during much of March. Only six weeks earlier McDuff had discovered a way that he could have access to a private room, eat three meals a day in a cafeteria, receive money for subsistence—even during holidays—and receive an education. All he had to do was go to class. Kenneth Allen

McDuff was going to college.1

Project RIO (Re-Integration of Offenders) was an outgrowth of the

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12. The Convenience Store

Gary M. Lavergne University of North Texas Press ePub

12

The Convenience Store

“We had a feeling that this is bad; this can’t wait.”

Bill Johnston, United States Attorney

I

Officially, Kenneth McDuff completed graduation requirements from TSTI in late February, 1992. The certificate he “earned” was mailed to J. A. and Addie. For most students, graduation means an opportunity to seek employment and build a future. For Kenneth McDuff, it probably meant an end to his state-supported lifestyle of sex and drugs. Reportedly, just a couple of days before his rendezvous with Holly, he had driven to Victoria, Texas, to interview for a job. According to Addie, he was excited at the prospect of gainful employment at the Victoria Machine Works, and then crushed to learn he was not hired. It was on February 29, 1992, according to Addie, that “Kenneth left [her home] so mad he didn’t take his glasses or his clothes.”1

And so, during the early morning hours of March 1, he might still have harbored anger over not getting a job he and his mother claimed he wanted very badly. More likely, however, his anger centered over the end of a very bad night. He had no money and could not get any because his cigarettes had been stolen from him; his Thunderbird had broken down the day after over $800 had been spent repairing it; he was coming down from an evening of smoking crack, and he had not had a woman. In a mood fashioned by such a bizarre evening, Kenneth McDuff headed towards the Quik Pak #8.

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