John Norman Collins's Murder Alibi

John Norman Collins on Triumph motorcycle he used to pick up Karen Sue Beineman.

Part three of the Detroit Free Press retrospective article on killer John Norman Collins and the Washtenaw County Murders details two prison letters he wrote to his Canadian cousin John Philip Chapman in 2013. In them, Collins states he is innocent of the Karen Sue Beineman and Alice Kalom murders, and he names the killer.

A footnote to this three-part feature story is that Collins broke his long-standing rule of not responding to media requests and wrote the Free Press last Tuesday asking that they not publish the articles. Then, he proceded to slander me writing I was using him to snare women into my web. Just for the record, I don't have a web.

John Norman Collins Mugshot August 2, 1969.

Collins throws Eastern Michigan University Roommate Under Prison bus 

The Washtenaw County Murders--1967-1969

Photo credit: The Detroit Free Press

Over a period of three summers, the bodies of seven Michigan young women and a high school student from Oregon visiting in California were found discarded in the countryside. The prime suspect was a handsome, high school sports star from Center Line, Michigan, who began his killing spree at Eastern Michigan University in 1967. Part two of this three part feature recounts the murders.

The Victims 

Terror In Ypsilanti Gets Second Wind

Seven months ago, I shelved my promotions for my previous books to concentrate on my current project about Detroit's Purple Gang. Then last week, I received a Canadian media company's inquiry about purchasing a two-year option for the audiovisual rights to develop Terror In Ypsilanti and promote a movie or cable series. No guarantees of course, but the executives at Big Coat Media are optimistic they can market a film project based on my true crime book--especially after the 2019 Netflix success of Extremely Wicked, Shockingly Evil, and Vile starring Zac Effron as Ted Bundy.

The antagonist in my true crime Terror In Ypsilanti is Michigan serial killer John Norman Collins. Collins would be better known nationally if it wasn't for Charles Manson and his Family. One week into Collins's trial, the Helter Skelter murders blazed across the headlines drawing the national and international press to the Hollywood Hills leaving the Collins case in obscurity.

In 2013, Investigation Discovery produced a documentary for their Crimes to Remember series entitled "A New Kind of Monster." At the time, the working title of my book was The Rainy Day Murders. Before publication, I changed the title to Terror In Ypsilanti: John Norman Collins Unmasked. Collins was convicted for the murder of Karen Sue Beineman, which became the focus of I.D.'s program. But there were six other Collins murders he was never tried for. These brutal murders reveal his demoniacal contempt for women.

For three summers between 1967 until 1969, Collins stalked the college towns of Ypsilanti and Ann Arbor, Michigan creating terror among their residents and taking great satisfaction in taunting the Washtenaw County sheriff and the local police.

I'm hoping this Canadian media opportunity reinvigorates the story and gives viewers a broader understanding of the crimes of John Norman Collins against seven young women who had the grim misfortune to cross his path.

Crimes to Remember "A New Kind of Monster"

The Ypsi-Ann Trolley - Maybe What's Old Can Be Made New Again!

While doing some research on Washtenaw County, Michigan, for my next book - The Rainy Day Murders - I came across an interesting tidbit of history about the Ypsi-Ann trolley which linked the campus of Michigan State Normal College in Ypsilanti with the campus of the University of Michigan in Ann Arbor some nine miles away.

This early mass transit service was popular, and at its height served approximately 600 people a day. Trains operated every ninety minutes at an average speed of eight miles per hour. The original fare was a thin dime. Despite frequent breakdowns and delays in its schedule, the line got plenty of use from U of M students, who were mostly young men--and from the Normal College students, who were mostly young women. It was said that on the weekends, a rough parity was achieved.

Established in 1889, this extension of Detroit's longer Interurban line was steam powered. Because Ypsilanti's population could not support its own streetcar system, a seven and a half mile line was built the following year connecting Ypsilanti's downtown with the outskirts of Ann Arbor. Ypsi-Ann trolley owners petitioned the Ann Arbor Common Council to extend the line into the city. The steam powered engine was designed to look like a street car on wheels, so it would not scare the horses. It could haul as many as four trailers.

But Ann Arbor residents opposed the noisy and dirty steam locomotives. Arrangements were made with the Ann Arbor Street Railway Company for its cleaner and quieter electric cars to meet the Ypsi-Ann at the city limits and transfer passengers. In November of 1896, the Ypsilanti and Ann Arbor route was fully electrified opening a direct connection between the cities without a transfer.

The trolley service continued to operate until 1929. As the trolley made horses obsolete, cars and bus service made the trolley obsolete. Most of the line's tracks were pulled up in World War II for scrap metal drives. It was believed all of the Ypsilanti tracks were removed, but in 2004, road construction crews found a stretch of track on Washington Street buried under the pavement.

Today, anyone who drives down Washtenaw Avenue can attest to the congested traffic between the cities. Too bad an old idea can't be made new again--or maybe it can. What about a solar powered mono-rail with electromagnets or some hybrid energy backup built over existing right of way?

America needs new technology. Why shouldn't Washtenaw County be the developmental center for a new age in transportation? Ann Arbor has the technical resources and Ypsi has the manufacturing facilities and know how. Create the new technology, build it in the old Ford plant, and ship it across the country and the world.

This could be the hottest commercial venture for the area since the development of the Ypsilanti union suit with the flap in the back--a well-known and sought after product across America in the nineteenth century. Look to the future.

The Rainy Day Murders--My Beta Readers

To take The Rainy Day Murders (RDM) to the next level, I have enlisted the aid of five highly-qualified beta readers. A beta reader is a non-professional reader who reads over the manuscript giving suggestions on how to improve the material. Beta reading is typically done before a book is published.

It was time for me to step back and see how people coming to the material for the first time would react to the manuscript of the Washtenaw County sex murders of the late 1960s in Michigan.

It is surprising how easy it is for a writer to overlook common mistakes. The eye sees, but doesn't see itself. Nagging grammar, spelling, and punctuation mistakes are mechanical errors that can be easily fixed, and fresh eyes are always appreciated to snare them. But organization and content matters are of more concern to me: Does the narrative move well? Are there continuity problems? Where are the hollow spots? Is the material believably presented? Do the facts and assertions appear accurate? Is the story a respectful treatment of difficult material? These are my areas of particular interest.

Working with this material for over four years has given me a form of writing blindness called authorial myopia. I needed some time and distance from RDM to gain perspective and recalibrate my vision to strengthen the manuscript.

Once my beta readers report to me, I will devise a specific plan for one last revision and begin looking for representation and a publisher. Barring that, I will self-publish RDM and make it available over the Internet. 

The descriptions in RDM are often graphic but never lurid. I have endeavored to portray the victims with dignity and respect while--at the same time--providing the public with documentable information regarding the details of the seven young women's murders. This was not an easy story to write, nor will it be an easy story to read for some people. I have strived to make RDM as accurate as possible given the limitations of the historical record.

The facts and circumstances of these tragedies deserve to be told to prevent them from falling further through the cracks of governmental neglect and the deliberate obfuscation by John Norman Collins.

Here is a link to my post about the victims: http://fornology.blogspot.com/2013/01/the-rainy-day-murders-who-were-victims.html

Linking the Rainy Day Murders--One University of Michigan Psychiatrist's View

While I was reorganizing and packing my files, I came across an interesting article that won't make it into my non-fiction account--The Rainy Day Murders--about the Washtenaw County, Michigan murders of the late sixties. I thought I would share it with my readers.

***

After the murder of University of Michigan graduate student Alice Elizabeth Kalom on June 8th, 1969--the sixth of the series--Associate Professor of Psychiatry Dr. Donald Holmes gave his theory on the possible mental quirks and personality of the killer.

The Detroit News reported the U of M professor's belief that "These murders have too much in common not to be linked. All of the unsolved murders were committed by the same man. The killer is a smooth operator who digs chicks. He is undoubtedly of high intelligence and supremely self-centered and a successful attention getter."

After John Norman Collins had been arrested for the first degree murder of Karen Sue Beineman six-weeks later, The Detroit News asked Dr. Holmes for a second hypothetical evaluation in the light of recent developments.

"As far as the murders being linked. I think they may be. I don't think it's a coincidence. They have too much in common. It may be one man or a couple (people) acting together--like Leopold and Loeb, for example, only better organized."

When the professor was asked about the stepped-up tempo of the slayings that spring and summer, he explained that "the slayer could be terrified the first time by his own act, but later the barriers were broken between reality and fantasy. He could do it more easily again."

***

People often ask me if John Norman Collins worked alone. There is no hard evidence to prove that he had help killing his victims, but other people knew about the first and the second murders. The same can be said for the fifth, sixth, and seventh murders.

By my count, at least three other people were privy to information that could have spared some of the victims' families and friends untold suffering--people who may not have been directly involved with the slayings but who had knowledge and were Collins' close associates. Of that, I am certain!

Serial Killer Groupie - Sondra London - Pt. One

Warning! This interview may be disturbing to some people. It is part of my research for The Rainy Day Murders, my book about John Norman Collins and the Washtenaw County Coed Killings of the late sixties in Ypsilanti and Ann Arbor, Michigan.

Ex-Deputy Sheriff Gerald Schaefer

More inscrutable than trying to understand the logic of a psychotic serial killer is trying to understand why some women are attracted to them and have relationships with them behind bars. It is the ultimate expression of either falling for the bad boy or flirting with disaster that some women seem wedded to in our culture.

Sondra London

Rather than going crazy trying to understand these people, I will satisfy myself with trying to become familiar with them and their behavior. This video link goes into the relationship between Sondra London, a writer and lover of serial killer Gerard John Schaefer. Watch part one of an interesting interview about their relationship. Then, check out Schaefer's Wikipedia entry. It is amazing how serial killers share so many of the same characteristics. Look at that smile on Schaefer's face. It says "Recognition at Last!"

Gerald John Schaefer had a fatal reaction to some sharpened steel in his Florida prison cell one December night in 1995 - an early Christmas present from his cellmate.

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=XbLhBISXbVA&feature=player_embedded

http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Gerard_John_Schaefer
 

Murderabilia - Market for the Macabre

Since the 1970s, there has been a growing consumer market in serial killer themed merchandise and artifacts. Murderabilia refers to the collection, sale, and marketing of original artwork, articles of clothing, and personal possessions of notorious killers in general and serial killers in particular. Stories and books about serial killers have great appeal with the public and attest to the popular interest in this type of murder.

Image from the Shroud of Turin

Since biblical times, religious relics and artifacts were believed to have sacred qualities, a belief which carries down to our present day. The sale of splinters and nails from the crucifixion of Christ were sold throughout Europe during the Middle Ages, and the Shroud of Turin still has the ability to inspire the faithful, even after the discovery that it was made of Medieval period linen. The Catholic faithful continue to have their rosaries and scapulars blessed by the parish priest.

The trade in items belonging to serial killers or objects having been touched by them is the antithesis of religious relics or items like mass cards and rosary beads that have been blessed. It is believed that these items have an atavistic quality to them, but rather than being imbued with the sacred, serial killer artifacts are tainted with the profane.

The fascination with death and the dark side of humanity has a long history. The display of the bodies of the infamous has always drawn large crowds of gawking, respectable people. The public viewing of the Dalton Brothers and the James Gang comes to mind. In more recent times, John Dillinger and Bonnie and Clyde's bodies were photographed and given wide circulation in newspapers across American. In many places in America, hangings were public events, especially of ruthless killers.

The severed head of Joaquin Murrietta, legendary Mexican outlaw, was popular on the medicine show circuit in the Southwest and drew huge crowds. So many people were willing to pay to see the notorious bandit that several severed heads were known to be touring at the same time. For many people, the sight of a severed head pickled in a jar of alcohol was enough of an attraction regardless of the true identity of the victim. Touring attractions such as Al Capone's bulletproof car and the bullet-riddled car of Bonnie and Clyde still have the power to attract crowds at county fairs and other venues.

The first murder memorabilia I remember seeing was the chair President Abraham Lincoln was shot in by John Wilkes Booth in 1865. Henry Ford had the foresight to purchase the chair before it was lost to history.
Generations of Michigan youth have memories of trips to the Henry Ford Museum in Dearborn, Michigan and seeing this artifact of our shared national history, still stained with Lincoln's blood. 

Some murderabilia has more historical significance than others to be sure. American collectors in post World War II bought up as much Nazi memorabilia as they could. These artifacts include weapons, uniforms, medals, helmets, flags, and Nazi government documents. It wasn't until the 1980s and the advent of the public internet that the fascination with serial killers began to dominate the murderabilia trade.

Countless magazine articles, books, movies, and cable television shows have made celebrity devils out of many of the most infamous killers in American history. Names like Richard Speck, Richard Ramirez, John Wayne Gacy, Jeffery Dahmer, and the poster boy for American serial killers Ted Bundy are widely known and have become part of the criminal folklore of America.

Some people think the marketing of murderabilia is grotesque and immoral, and it should be illegal. They argue that the promotion and marketing of these ruthless serial killers contributes to their celebrity folk status and larger than life portrayals. Much of the public is disgusted with the idea that convicted sex-slayers can parade around like celebrities nourishing their egos at the expense of their victims and their families.

Son of Sam murders prompted new law.

Because of the feeding frenzy of New York publishers in 1977 to pay big money to David Berkowitz for the rights to tell his "Son of Sam" story, the New York State Assembly drafted and passed what is known as the "Son of Sam" law. The law's intent is to prevent convicted felons from profiting from their crimes through book publishers, film producers, or television networks. Convicts lose the ability to tell their own stories and profit from it.

Any money earned from "expressive or creative works" is deposited into an escrow account and then used to compensate crime victims and their families. Eight states currently have "notoriety-for-profit" laws that follow the money trial of murderabilia sales to insure that convicts don't make money indirectly through third-party involvement.

For my part, I have been purchasing the rights to every John Norman Collins related photograph available on the internet, not to buy and sell as murderabilia, but to use as research documentation in my true crime account of the Washtenaw County sex-slayings, The Rainy Day Murders. At some point, I will donate these photos and the government documents I have purchased to an archive in Ypsilanti, Michigan. For the record, I don't trade in murderabilia.

But recently I came across a site that sells Serial Killer Trading Cards, and I bought two of John Norman Collins' cards for under three dollars apiece. One for me and one for him. What prompted me to purchase them was that the card's writer got Collins' name wrong. It is listed as "Norman Collins." Norman Collins was a British author who is in no way related to John Norman Collins. Even in the subculture of murderabilia collectors, serial killer John Norman Collins cuts a sorry figure.    

Murderabilia dealer banned from Texas state prisons system: http://www.usatoday.com/story/news/nation/2014/11/04/murderabilia-website-prison-ban/18476067/    

John Norman Collins on the Prowl

The court of public opinion has long held that John Norman Collins (JNC) is culpable in the murders of seven young women in Washtenaw County, Michigan from 1967-1969. 

To be precise, six of the girls were from Michigan and one was from Milwaukie, Oregon. Roxie Ann Phillips was visiting a family friend in California when she crossed paths with JNC. One of the original seven victims, Jane Mixer, was found in 2005 to have been murdered by someone else, Gary Earl Leiterman.

It is well-known and documented that JNC prowled the streets of Ypsilanti. Five women testified that he tried to pick them up, all within a forty-five minute window before he picked up Karen Sue Beineman. Collins gave her a ride to a wig shop before he brutally killed her in his uncle's basement. So said The People of Washtenaw County.

But did JNC ever pose the same threat to young men? Although that isn't the subject of The Rainy Day Murders, several men have come forward with stories about their brushes with Collins. Without corroboration, their anecdotes have no evidentiary value, yet that doesn't mean that their stories are untrue. To date, it is unknown if JNC had any young male victims.

One of the men who contacted me was clearly more disturbed about his brush with Collins than the others. I placed a call to this person who went by the handle of Atlanta Tom. He didn't want to reveal his true identity to me at first. His memory of the incident stills haunts him after forty-four years, and he had difficulty telling his story.

When JNC was arrested and his perp walk photograph appeared all over the television news and front page reports, Tom finally knew the name of the man who tried to assault him five months earlier.

I was skeptical at first because he couldn't express his story and his feelings coherently. We were both getting frustrated, but I could sense he was uncomfortable and having trouble collecting his thoughts. 

Then we began talking about Eastern Michigan University's 
campus during the late Sixties and discovered that we had mutual acquaintances and ran in the same circle of people we loosely called "freaks." I was a few years ahead if him at Eastern.

When Atlanta Tom finally settled down, I asked him to tell his story again from the beginning. Now, I was able to stitch my initial notes together and discover his story. 

In a subsequent phone call interview, he allowed me to tell his story though he confessed he was uncomfortable about it. He always felt "guilty" because he didn't report the incident to the police. In the month after his incident, another young women was brutally slaughtered in the area. By July, four more had lost their lives.

"You were young and afraid," I reassured him. "Maybe you could have changed history and saved those girls, maybe not. Besides, you couldn't identify him by name at the time."

"That's not all," he said. "My name is Tom Zarski. I'm the guy who called 'Uncle Russ' on the radio with the 'Is Paul (McCartney) Dead?' story, which quickly became the 'Paul Is Dead!' story. That was in February of 1969. I didn't think anyone would believe me after that."

Here is Tom's story as told to me. Believe it or not!

***

"While hitchhiking home to Bloomfield Hills from EMU on a late Friday afternoon in February, I was picked up by a person who told me to get in, and then he asked me for my name. 'Tom,' I said, hopping into his car with my laundry bag in tow.

Tom described himself as very unsure of himself and a very immature eighteen year old freshman, both physically and socially. He didn't feel comfortable at EMU and spent as much time home as he could.

Tom Zarski related to me that the person who picked him up in front of the Ypsilanti Police Department on Michigan Avenue looked three or four years older than he was. The driver's upper body build made him look like a college quarterback type with clean cut short haircut which wasn't popular in 1969. He looked out of place for the times. What Zarski remembered most about his benefactor was that he looked like a fraternity guy.

But something bothered him from the start. The driver "eyeballed" him and it made the hair stand up on the back of his neck. Then, when the driver started to speak, he was a quick talker and very slick. 

Tom remembered being offered a free ticket to a Bob Seger concert at Eastern Michigan's Bowen Field House if he wanted to go. The guy said he had an extra ticket and would fix the shy freshman up with his sister who liked young guys. 

I was at this concert that night.

This was all too much and too fast for the socially immature young man to process. "Why is this guy bothering with me, a scrawny, immature kid? All I could think of was that he wanted something. I told him that my father was waiting for me to come home for the weekend, and I couldn't change my plans. But thanks anyway."

"Within ten minutes of being picked up, his friendly attitude abruptly changed as he slammed on the brakes before dumping me off on the shoulder of Interstate 94 east, just before the Rawsonville exit. 'Go ahead! Get out!' he commanded as he spun his wheels leaving me in a cloud of blue exhaust.

"He took off and I stuck out my thumb trying to get a ride hitchhiking, walking backwards towards Detroit's Metropolitan Airport. When I got there, I thought, I would call my father and tell him I'd be late. Then I could catch an airport shuttle to Bloomfield Hills. That was my plan.

"As I continued to walk east, I heard someone yelling my name from an overpass. 'Tom! Tom! Tom!' By now, it was dark and I couldn't make out who it was. But nobody knew me around there, and it struck me that I had told the guy who picked me up my name. 'What's he want now?' I thought. Trying not to panic, I ignored him and kept walking with my thumb out having no success getting a ride. 

"As I approached the next freeway exit, I noticed a car was parked with it's headlights on and pulled over on the exit's right shoulder. The car's trunk was open, but the high beams were so bright that I couldn't recognize the car or anything else in the darkness.

"The next thing I knew, I heard the trunk slam and a lanky figure began running me down swinging a tire iron at me. It was the same guy who was now trying to attack me. I saw a panel truck pull over about fifty yards up the freeway from where I had just come. Fueled by fear, I outran my stalker. 

Three farm workers hauling potatoes had stopped and congregated around the truck's front right tire to take a bathroom break so they wouldn't be seen by oncoming traffic.

"I ran up to them with my laundry bag slung over my shoulder and asked if I could have a ride. Someone was trying to attack me. They looked and saw a shadowy figure walking towards the freeway entrance ahead.There is safety in numbers and they said 'Sure.' All four of us squeezed onto the front bench seat. 

"Clinging to my laundry bag, I saw the guy standing on the shoulder as we went by giving me a crazed look and shaking his head slowly with his arms crossed over his chest. The crow bar must have been hidden behind his back.

"My rescuers dropped me off at Merriman Rd., and I walked the rest of the way to Metro Airport looking over my shoulder the whole way scared to death. By the time I made it home, I was a nervous wreck. Shaking, I told my father, 'Someone tried to kill me tonight.'

"Two days later on the following Monday, I was hanging out in the McKenny Union snack bar, a recent addition to the newly remodeled Student Union building. It had large, modern window panels on three sides of the addition for natural lighting. A sidewalk ran between these large windows and Welch Hall next door that formed a bottleneck for students walking during class change.

"I saw some sort of fraternity demonstration going on outside, so I went up to the large window to get a better look. Much to my stark terror, there he was, the same guy who tried to attack me Friday night. He was leading the parade, cavorting, and goosestepping in rubber boots.

"He looked into the snack bar window and our eyes locked. I saw an expression of horror on his face. He recognized me right away and did a 180 degree turn and ran towards W. Cross St. He was probably afraid I would call the police on the spot."

"Why didn't you?" I prompted.

"My father wanted me to make out a police report, but I let my friend talk me out of it. She told me, 'Why get further involved?' Now, I wish I had."

John Norman Collins Mail Call - Coming Clean With My Readers

For three and a half years, I have focused most of my worldly attention on researching and writing about John Norman Collins (JNC) and the Washtenaw County murders of 1967-1969. 

I would have been finished with The Rainy Day Murders six months ago but for an unforeseen development which I have been holding back from my readers. 

My researcher, Ryan M. Place, and I have privately received over twenty prison letters and a handful of emails from two separate sources that JNC had written to from April 2013 until October 2013.

The first cache of letters we received was from a woman who had been corresponding with JNC for close to a year. Sandra contacted us when Collins agreed to answer some of our questions through a third party, his current girlfriend, Sandra. 

We had written Collins numerous times asking for an interview, but he decided to use Sandra as a virtual "human shield" to play games with us. I am sure he believed that going through her would give him some level of control over the interview, but in reality, it was merely weak dealing.

Collins believed he had a firm grasp on her, but his glib, evasive, and sometimes disturbing answers to our written questions about the young women's murders began to turn her off, and she began to internalize her feelings about the defenseless victims of his carnage. What he said and how he said it was upsetting to her.

He began making lewd remarks in his prison letters. Rather than "charming" her with his sweet talk as he had been doing, he suddenly became vulgar and suggestive which bothered her. 

Finally, Sandra wrote to us saying she was through with Collins. Then she surprised us with an offer we couldn't refuse, "Would you like me to send you some of his prison letters?"

"Yeah!"

Ryan and I couldn't believe our luck. Here was an exclusive information drop handed to us. Primary resource material is the meat of research, and now we had some prison letters from JNC himself. Sandra sent us twelve personal letters and many pages of notes she had taken from several "collect" phone calls Collins had made to her from the prison yard.

Disgusted with him, Sandra finally told Collins that she had sent us the letters he had written to her. The master manipulator had been double-dealt and he was furious. 

Some days afterwards, in a phone call to me, Sandra said that John had called her back and apologized profusely. He said he had been under a lot of stress lately and needed to talk with her face-to-face, necessitating a visit to Marquette prison. 

"It's URGENT!" he told her. 

Stock Photograph - Depicts High Security, Non-Contact Visitation

For some unspecified reason, she recanted and drove several hundred miles up to Michigan's Upper Peninsula to finally face the prison inmate she had been writing for months. Although I wasn't made privy to their entire conversation, I do know this, JNC asked Sandra to marry him.

That is the last thing we have heard from Sandra. Her phone is still connected, but she isn't answering our calls.

Then something even more remarkable happened. In May of 2013, I received an email from a person who claimed to be JNC's last living Canadian blood relative. He had been investigating the internet for information on his infamous cousin and read several of my recent blog posts about him. 

 

The Canadian emailer wanted to correct the mistaken perceptions concerning his Uncle Rich, the Canadian birth father of John Norman Collins. What had been previously printed about his uncle was blatantly inaccurate, and he wanted me to set the record straight in The Rainy Day Murders.

More about the JNC Canadian family connection in my next post.

Investigative Discovery Channel's New Series Debuts - A CRIME TO REMEMBER - on Tuesday, November 12th, 2013

"Michigan Coed Murders"

In February, I flew out to New York to do a segment on a new series XCON Productions was doing for the Investigation Discovery Channel called A CRIME TO REMEMBER. The series recounts six cases that have fallen through the cracks of time or which are generally unknown to the public at large.

XCON's fifth show of the series covers the "Michigan Coed Murders," which occurred in Washtenaw County, Michigan, in 1967-1969. The accused killer of seven young women was convicted of only the last, Karen Sue Beineman. The program will surely focus on that part of the story to stay within their forty-two minute time constraint.

In addition to re-enactments, several people involved with these cases were interviewed: former Washtenaw County Sheriff, Douglas Harvey; forensic psychologist, Dr. Katherine Ramsland, Ph.D; former Eastern Michigan University campus policeman, Larry Mathewson; and others will provide commentary on these matters. The real names of the victims are used in this new production, as well as vintage photographs from the era.

Be sure to view the sneak preview of the first episode of the series below in the XCON announcement of the season opener.

I am very pleased with the production values I see and look forward to the Washtenaw County episode on Tuesday, December 10th, at 10:00 PM Eastern Time.


Set your DVR to record the entire series, as scheduling may be subject to change.

Greetings from XCON Productions,

We are happy to announce the premiere of A CRIME TO REMEMBER  (formerly titled The Bad Old Days) on Investigation Discovery, Tuesday Nov 12th at 10pm.  

The episode order is always subject to last-minute network changes (so check your local listings!) but looks like this right now:  

The Alice Crimmins Case -11/12/13

The Career Girl Murders - 11/19/13

The Chillingworth Murders - 11/26/13 

United 629 - 12/3/13

The Michigan Coed Murders - 12/10/13

The Ann and Billy Woodward Story - 12/17/13

And here's a link to the network promo: http://investigation.discovery.com/tv-shows/a-crime-to-remember/a-crime-to-remember-videos/a-crime-to-remember.htm

Once again, thank you very much Greg for your time and generosity throughout the process. We couldn't have done it without you. As I'm sure you're aware (since you're now a seasoned TV pro!), 42 minutes is nowhere near enough time to tell these stories in the degree of detail that you have provided or that we would like.   So please forgive us for truncating in certain places and expanding in others...television is a strange creature, with particular demands.  We hope you understand.

We are very proud of the series and hope you like the shows. 

Thank you again for your participation!

All the best, 

The XCON team

The Demise of Kristi Kurtz - November 1990

My girlfriend during the years covering the Washtenaw County coed killings (1967-1969) was Kristi Kurtz. When we met up, she had just dropped out of Eastern Michigan University and managed a small boutique called Stangers near Ned's Bookstore on West Cross Street in Ypsilanti.

I worked part time evenings at the university and took classes during the day. We lived together one block up the street from the boarding house where John Norman Collins lived on 619 Emmet St. and walked past that house daily unsuspecting the eventual notoriety of the place.

Kristi was a vibrant, outspoken, and fiercely independent young woman who found solace in her love of animals. They were the center of her life. Tragedy struck Kristi's young life when her father and mother were killed in a private plane crash. Her father owned a steel company in Detroit and had provided well for his orphaned family. Losing both parents so early in life had a lasting impact on her, and she became more independent because of it. 

Kristi and her older sister and brother grew up in Grosse Pointe and were raised by her aunt who kept tight control of the children's trust fund which was sizable. But after Kristi dropped out of college, the money dried up. Kristi wasn't twenty-one and had limited access to her money, so she worked just enough to get by, against the day when she would inherit the money outright.

Kristi liked animals better than people, and she wanted to raise and board horses on a small farm of her own. As soon as she was able, she bought the 113 acre Firesign Farm on Trotters Lane in Webster Township north of Ypsilanti. Kristi set out to live her dream, but I decided that finishing my education was more important than being her horse groom. We parted ways but remained friends. It was a defining moment for both of us.

Twenty years later, I'm living in California, and I get a phone call from a mutual Michigan friend of ours that I hadn't heard from in over ten years. "I've got some tragic news for you," he says. "Kristi's body was found shot to death and discovered buried under some bales of hay in her barn. She's been missing for a month."

It took me a few seconds to wrap my head around what I had just been told, then I heard what few details were known at that time. Two days after Thanksgiving on Saturday, November 24th, 1990, Kristi was last seen by a friend. When Kristi disappeared and hadn't fed her nine horses or other animals for a day or two, her neighbors got worried and contacted Kristi's sister who lived in Colorado. She called the Michigan State Police and filed a missing persons report on Monday, November 26th.

Then on Wednesday, December 26th at 10:15 AM, the day after Christmas, the Good Samaritan neighbor who had been caring for Kristi's horses and dogs, Rick Godfrey, removed another bale of hay to feed the horses, then he recognized her leather boots sticking out. Godfrey had given them to her as a Christmas gift two years before. He moved another bale and saw her frozen, fully clothed body. She had been missing for thirty-two days.

Twice the police had searched the barn with canines but felt the pungent smells confused the dogs. The barn cats had managed to find her body though. Dental records were required for a positive identification.

Check the link for archival news footage about the capture of Kristi Kurtz's murderer: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=z7fnfrk6ZpA

Treading on the Grief of Others in the John Norman Collins Case

It is not easy writing about terrible matters which stir up painful memories and open old wounds. So it is with the Terror In Ypsilanti cases in Washtenaw County that occurred between the summers of 1967 and 1969.

If these deaths were matters of private grief, interest would be limited to the family and friends of the deceased, but a lone murderer bent on venting his rage against defenseless young women held two college campuses hostage during his two year reign of terror.

Coeds at The University of Michigan and Eastern Michigan University felt threatened by chronic fear. Parents whose hopes and dreams rested upon the fragile shoulders of their daughters lived in dread of getting a knock on the door from plainclothes policemen with the news that their daughter was the latest victim of the phantom killer.

When a sixteen year old Romulus, Michigan, girl and a local Ypsilanti thirteen year old junior high school student were found murdered only twenty-two days apart, the entire city of Ypsilanti panicked.

Sheriff Douglas Harvey on crutches watching John Norman Collins leave the courthouse.

The murderer was no longer killing only college girls, every young woman in town was now a potential victim of this at-large killer, and police were no closer to making an arrest than they were with the murder of the first victim almost two years before. 

Only two of the eight families of victims ever had their day in court--the Beinemans in 1970 and the Mixers in 2005. After forty-five years, most of the parents of the victims have gone to their graves never to see justice done. It is a persistent wound carried by the brothers, sisters, cousins, and friends of the victims. But generations further removed from those times want to know the facts about what happened to their relatives and the man accused of killing them.

Comments on John Norman Collins websites show a remarkable amount of misinformation about these cases. Some people have elevated Collins to the status of a folk hero who was falsely imprisoned for the deeds of another, then scapegoated and railroaded by Washtenaw County law enforcement anxious to prosecute this case. When the actual details and facts of these murders are generally known, it is my hope that such people will disabuse themselves of their fallacious notions.

Many young people in Ypsilanti and Ann Arbor would like to know more about their history and discover what their grandparents and parents never knew, the full evidence as it exists in the unsolved murders of these six young women. A debt to history must be paid. The facts of these cases need to be documented and preserved for posterity, so time doesn't swallow up the memory of these young women whose fatal error was not recognizing danger before it was too late.

Soon, all living history of people with knowledge of these cases will be lost. If you can shed some light on these tragedies, now is the time to come forward. You can contact me confidentially at  gregoryafournier@gmail.com 

The John Norman Collins Mess and My Motivation For Writing About It

A small number of people have questioned my motives for writing The Rainy Day Murders about John Norman Collins. Why reopen old wounds?

The sex slaying murders of seven and possibly more local young women created an atmosphere of sustained panic and mortal fear for college coeds on two college campuses, Eastern Michigan University in Ypsilanti and The University of Michigan in Ann Arbor. 

 ***

This tragedy left an indelible impression on me and anyone else who lived through that terrible period of Washtenaw County history. I first realized an arrest had been made in the "Coed Killer Case" when I was walking down from my apartment on College Place St. to have lunch at Roy's Grill, a diner on the corner of W. Cross and College Place. It was Friday, August 1, 1969, around 10:30 or so in the morning.

I lived only a block down the street and saw an assortment of four or five police cars surrounding the corner house on Emmet St. A small group of people had gathered across the street from the house; the police were keeping spectators away.

My first thought was that another girl's body had been found. A year before, Joan Schell, the second victim of a phantom local killer, had lived across the street from this very same Emmet St. house. Her body was found in farm country on the northern outskirts of Ann Arbor.

I approached someone I knew and asked him what was happening, "John Collins was arrested for the murder of that Beineman girl a week ago," he told me. 

My friend had occasionally ridden motorcycles through the countryside with Collins, and now and then they "exchanged" motorcycle parts, so he knew him. When I asked how he got his information, he pointed to a guy in front of the cordoned off house who was arguing with policemen. 

Arnie Davis lived across the landing from Collins on the second floor and described himself, during the court case a year later, as Collins' "best friend." Davis wanted to get his stuff out of the house, but it had already been locked down as a potential crime scene. 

I walked a scant block further to W. Cross St. and ate lunch at Roy's Grill. When I walked up the street to go home, the crowd had grown and the media had arrived by this time. I have a vivid memory of reporters questioning bystanders. 

When I saw Collins' picture in the newspaper later that evening, I was able to place the name with the face. I realized that I had several negative brushes with this guy while I was a student at Eastern Michigan. 

He tried to clothesline me once when I passed by him. Perhaps he was displeased with me because I witnessed him and his friend Manny attempt to break into a car on my street, College Place.

As I was about to walk past him, I ducked and swung around in a defensive position, but Collins and Manny continued walking down the street like nothing had happened. They headed towards the Emmet St. boarding house where they each rented rooms.

After learning of Collins' arrest, my mother called me on the phone relieved. She reluctantly told me that she had suspected I might be the murderer because I resembled the eyewitness descriptions in the newspapers. Can you believe that? Thanks, Mom.

***

When The Michigan Murders came out in 1976, I snapped it up like so many other people in Ypsilanti and anxiously read it. I was disappointed because I felt the novelization of the story took liberties with the facts and relied too heavily on official reports and the work of an Eastern Michigan University English Professor, Dr. Paul McGlynn.  He had allowed Edward Keyes to use his notes which McGlynn had gathered while attending the court proceedings doing research for his own book.

I soon discovered that many assumptions and liberties were taken with the story which made for smooth flowing fiction, but the real story is anything but smooth flowing. It is a ragged mess of complicated misinformation, shaky news reporting, and missing documentation. If this was an easy story to tell, it would have been done long ago.

The most frustrating and confusing aspect of Edward Keyes' novelization was that he chose to change the names of the victims and their alleged murderer. When another author took up the charge of this case some years later, he too changed the names of the victims and of the accused, and then referenced those names to the fictitious names which only compounded the confusion and led to the obscurity of the real victims.
  

Over forty-five years have passed since these sad events, and it is time for the record to be restored and updated. It may have been customary in the past for authors to change the names of victims to protect the families and their feelings, but those days are long gone. I would rather get the facts right than be polite.