(no subject)
Dear Captain Joseph Borrelli,
I am deeply hurt by your calling me a wemon hater. I am not. But I am a monster. I am the 'Son of Sam.' I am a little brat.
When father Sam gets drunk he gets mean. He beats his family. Sometimes he ties me up to the back of the house. Other times he locks me in the garage. Sam loves to drink blood.
'Go out and kill,' commands father Sam.
'Behind our house some rest. Mostly young -- raped and slaughtered -- their blood drained -- just bones now.
Papa Sam keeps me locked in the attic too. I can't get out but I look out the attic window and watch the world go by.
I feel like an outsider. I am on a different wavelength then everybody else -- programmed too kill.
However, to stop me you must kill me. Attention all police: Shoot me first -- shoot to kill or else keep out of my way or you will die!
Papa Sam is old now. He needs some blood to preserve his youth. He has had too many heart attacks. 'Ugh, me hoot, it hurts, sonny boy.'
I miss my pretty princess most of all. She's resting in our ladies house. But I'll see her soon.
I am the 'Monster' -- 'Beelzebub' -- the chubby behemouth.
I love to hunt. Prowling the streets looking for fair game -- tasty meat. The wemon of Queens are prettyist of all. It must be the water they drink. I live for the hunt -- my life. Blood for papa.
Mr. Borrelli, sir, I don't want to kill anymore. No sur, no more but I must, 'honour thy father.'
I want to make love to the world. I love people. I don't belong on earth. Return me to yahoos.
To the people of Queens, I love you. And I want to wish all of you a happy Easter. May
God bless you in this life and in the next.
This letter was sent to captain Borrelli of the NYPD on April 17, 1977, doubing the New York mystery killer as Son of Sam. Woman had been shot throughout the city with a .44 caliber handgun, but there were no leads. Operation Omega had been formed to find the perpitrator of six murders (beginning July 29, 1976), but they had no success. The assaults continued, some fatal, some leaving the victims perminately injured.
On April 19 a letter was sent to a man concerning the barking of his dog.
I have asked you kindly to stop that dog from howling all day long, yet he continues to do so. I pleaded with you. I told you how this is destroying my family. We have no peace, no rest. Now I know what kind of a person you are and what kind of a family you are. You are cruel and inconsiderate. You have no love for any other human beings. Your selfish, Mr. Carr. My life is destroyed now. I have nothing to lose anymore. I can see that there shall be no peace in my life, or my families life until I end yours.
A day later the dog was shot by a stranger who was witnessed fleeing the scene. The police did not connect it with the other shootings that had prevailed over the city. So the shootings continued. The police were helpless and even the veterens assigned to the case felt hopelessness setting it.
This situation was somewhat abated in May of 1977. Having read through and analyzed all of the letters, the police knew that they were dealing with a paranoid schizophrenic. Son of Sam soon became bolder, writing to a reporter.
Hello from the cracks in the sidewalks of NYC and from the ants that dwell in these cracks and feed in the dried blood of the dead that has settled into the cracks.
Hello from the gutters of NYC, which is filled with dog manure, vomit, stale wine, urine, and blood. Hello from the sewers of NYC which swallow up these delicacies when they are washed away by the sweeper trucks.
Don't think because you haven't heard [from me] for a while that I went to sleep. No, rather, I am still here. Like a spirit roaming the night. Thirsty, hungry, seldom stopping to rest; anxious to please Sam.
Sam's a thirsty lad. He won't let me stop killing until he gets his fill of blood. Tell me, Jim, what will you have for July 29? You can forget about me if you like because I don't care for publicity. However, you must not forget Donna Lauria and you cannot let the people forget her either. She was a very sweet girl.
Not knowing what the future holds, I shall say farewell and I will see you at the next job? Or should I say you will see my handiwork at the next job? Remember Ms. Lauria. Thank you.
In their blood and from the gutter-- 'Sam's creation' .44
Partial fingerprints were found on the letter--unusable until they found a suspect to match them with. On June 10th Jack Cassara recieved an odd letter supposedly from the Carrs
Dear Jack, I'm sorry to hear about that fall you took from the roof of your house. Just want to say 'I'm sorry' but I'm sure it won't be long until you feel much better, healthy, well and strong: Please be careful next time. Since your going to be confined for a long time, let us know if Nann needs anything. Sincerely: Sam and Francis.
Since no such thing had happened, and he had no contact with the Carrs, the two families decided to meet and discovered that the letters that the Carrs had recieved about their dog, and the letter Jack Cassara recieved were extremely similar. It was Cassara's nineteen year old son who made an interesting connection. He remembered a man, David Berkowitz who had rented a room from them in 1976. He had hated their dog.
The Carr's daughter, a member of the Yonkers police force, alerted her superiors and the New Rochelle police that Berkowitz was a suspect. She was ignored until some two months later. When the lead was finally followed and acted upon, David Berkowitz came quietly--seemingly happily.
"Now that I've got you," Falotico (the arresting officer) said, "who have I got?"
"You know," David replied politely.
"No, I don't. You tell me."
Smiling his moronic smile, he answered, "I'm Sam. David Berkowitz."
David Coffey, the investigator who heard his confession's comments were "When I first walked into that room I was full of rage. But after talking to him....I feel sorry for him. That man is a fucking vegetable!"
In truth, David Berkowitz's deterioration began in 1967 with his loving adopted mother's death. From that point on Berkowitz believed that there was a plot afoot to destroy him. His father remarried and moved to Florida. David found his birth mother who accepted him fully, but he eventually drifted from them as well. He joined the army and became a prized shooter. In Korea he contracted a venereal disease from a prostiture--he wasn't good with women. His isolation increased and he fell into a strange sort of depression. In a letter to his father he described it.
It's cold and gloomy here in New York, but that's okay because the weather fits my mood -- gloomy. Dad, the world is getting dark now. I can feel it more and more. The people, they are developing a hatred for me. You wouldn't believe how much some people hate me. Many of them want to kill me. I don't even know these people, but still they hate me. Most of them are young. I walk down the street and they spit and kick at me. The girls call me ugly and they bother me the most. The guys just laugh. Anyhow, things will soon change for the better.
Shortly after this David began his killing spree with the stabbing of two young women. "In order to appease the demons." He said. "The demons never stopped. I couldn't sleep. I had no strength to fight. I could barely drive. Coming home from work one night, I almost killed myself in the car. I needed to sleep....The demons wouldn't give me any peace." He had to kill or he would die.
As he described these things to the jury, they deliberated, and eventually sentanced him to 365 years in jail.
Later on, he admitted that perhaps he had just made up the demon story to protect himself. He claimed to the man who was interviewing him that he killed the women because he resented his mother, and he couldn't seem to establish any relationships with other women. He would take sexual pleasure in the stalkings and the murders.
He changed this confession later at his parole hearing, saying that he indeed was out of his mind, twisted by reading the satanic bible--his life was out of control. He stated that he didn't believe he deserved parole and so he remains in prison. Though his story continues to change about the murders, he has been accepted into the Christian church after becoming born again. (says a lot about that church, don't it.)