Jack Smith - The Scorecard Killer: The Life of Serial Killer Randy Steven Kraft

December 31, 1975. Three young men were looking for somewhere to get cheap drinks and have a good time. They had been paid at two that afternoon, and after cashing their checks, had promptly headed to a local dive they frequented often. From there they wandered to another bar because they wanted something a little stronger than beer and wine. Mark Hall was one of these three musketeers.

At a place where a shot of bourbon or gin cost the same as a beer, one of their coworkers invited them to a New Years Eve bash he was having. It was dark by the time they left the bar and rode to the party in the back of a convertible. When they arrived, they continued their drinking binge. They mingled, drank, and drifted away from one another as they started talking with other people.

However, it became clear these three young men werent going to find what they were really looking for that New Years Eve, which was pretty much what every unattached young male was looking for women. Hope was at hand, though. A flyer one of them had picked up at the payroll office promised loads of women at a party in San Juan Capistrano.

By the time they headed down to the other party, it was getting close to midnight. The two of them who survived that night couldnt remember how they got to the final party because they were terribly drunk by this time. Unfortunately, by the time they arrived, the party had been reduced to a few men who were playing poker with each other, which wasnt what the three were looking for. Two out of the three decided to make the best of it and play poker, while Hall decided it wasnt the scene for him.

Halls friend helped him limp to the living room, where he curled up on one of the sofas to sleep it off. Around midnight, the friend who had helped Hall to the sofa went to the kitchen to find some pots and pans to bang together, an old time New Years tradition. He went to the living room to wake Mark Hall, but he wasnt there.

They searched the house and the front lawn, but they couldnt find him. They did, however, find that they were missing some cash. Two hundred dollars short and a little sour over the theft, they gave up on looking for their friend and went back to playing poker. They waited until dawn for him to return, but he never did, and he never would.

~

On the same night Mark Hall went missing, Randy Steven Kraft was celebrating New Years Eve with his family. It had recently been divulged that Randy was gay, so no one was particularly comfortable with him at the party. In fact, it wasnt being held at his place due to this new revelation. He and his roommate seemed normal enough, but there was no need for the family to have to wonder what was happening behind closed doors. Harold Kraft, Randys father, was still coming to terms with his only sons homosexuality, and his mother a leader at a local Presbyterian church was trying to deny it completely.

Randy worked as a computer operator at the time. He ran payroll programs for a business in Orange County and Long Beach and made a mere four dollars an hour. However, there was a huge need for overtime, so it wasnt a shock when he told his sister hed be a little late to the New Years Eve party.

He was attempting to get his life back together after having been discharged from the Air Force in 1969. After thirteen years as an aircraft painter, hed confessed to his superiors that he was a homosexual. It had been a shock for his entire family.

It was difficult finding work at the time. He went through a number of jobs truck driver, bartender, dispatcher, and teachers aide. Hed been hoping to follow in his sisters footsteps and become an elementary school teacher, but that didnt work out for him. Finally, he got into computers. Not only was he good at it, but he also loved it.

Taking some night classes at Long Beach State University, Randy mastered the basics quickly. It wasnt unusual for him to work all night on a computer problem. He took his job very seriously and his work ethic gained him the trust of his employers. In fact, after only a few weeks of working at Aztec Aircraft, he was given a key that allowed him to access the building whenever he needed. He was usually the first one to arrive and the last one to leave.