Cheskey Sandra - Gitchie girl: the survivors inside story of the mass murders that shocked the heartland

Table of Contents

GITCHIE GIRL

The Survivors Inside Story of the
Mass Murders that Shocked the Heartland

Phil Hamman & Sandy Hamman

eLectio Publishing

Little Elm, TX

www.eLectioPublishing.com

Gitchie Girl: The Survivors Inside Story of the Mass Murders that Shocked the Heartland

By Phil Hamman & Sandy Hamman

Copyright 2016 by Phil Hamman & Sandy Hamman

Cover Design by eLectio Publishing

ISBN-13: 978-1-63213-200-0

Published by eLectio Publishing, LLC

Little Elm, Texas

http://www.eLectioPublishing.com

5 4 3 2 1 eLP 21 20 19 18 17 16

The eLectio Publishing editing team is comprised of: Christine LePorte, Lori Draft, Sheldon James, Court Dudek, and Jim Eccles.

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Publishers Note

The publisher does not have any control over and does not assume any responsibility for author or third-party websites or their content.

To Roger, Mike, Stew, Dana, and their families.

Gods peace be with you.

Acknowledgments

First and foremost, a special thank-you to Sandra for having the courage to share this story.

We also owe a debt of gratitude to: everyone at eLectio Publishing, as their tireless work has been exemplary; Amy Schmidt, Sioux City East High English teacher for her editing; Jodie Hoogendoorn, editor at the Lyon County Reporter for digging through archived newspaper photos; the staff at the Lyon County Clerk of Courts for allowing us access to boxes full of legal documents; Sheriff Stewart Vanderstoop, Tom Vinson, son of former Sheriff Craig Vinson, and former Deputy LeRoy Griesse, who all gave valuable insight not only into the crime but also into the personalities of individuals we portray; LeLand Baade for contributing memories about his brothers, Stew and Dana, and their parents; and also Lynette Hadrath Dahl for providing details about her brother, Mike.

Additionally, several people helped to create dialogue as it would have been when exact conversations could not be recalled. Our sincere thanks to the family members of the boys, as many memories were painful to relive. Some family members shared but wished to remain anonymous. Through this story we aimed to portray the heinousness of the crimes while at the same time honoring the memory of four admirable boys.

Phil and Sandy Hamman

It has long been a dream of mine to tell the inside story of that night at Gitchie Manitou, but for years this desire was overshadowed by the emotional trauma that resulted in forty years of silence on my part. I can now rejoice that the truth has been recorded and any misinformation from the past can be laid to rest so my family, especially the grandchildren, and my friends can understand the full impact of that tragic night. I thank Phil and Sandy Hamman for making this dream a reality. Thank you to Mary Roche, a victims advocate who worked tirelessly for a year and a half arranging the prison visit at Fort Madison, where the staff, especially Warden Nick Ludwick, graciously allowed me the opportunity to help heal an old wound. I left your facility feeling like a different person. My gratitude to Kevin Kunkel for filming the event. Mary Maddox, my rock at Fort Madison, and Debbie Fogelman, my two real-life angels whose friendship and support has endured even through agony and heartbreak. My life is better for the many friends and family who gave their support over the years, including my mom for always loving me and being there for me, my caring husband since 1986 who is the most selfless person I know, my niece Chelsea for always sticking up for me, my Lakota cousin for his patient teaching of the Native ways, all my family including the Cheskeys and Rousseaus. You are all very important to me.

Sandra Cheskey Chrans

Chapter 1
November 18, 1973

Everyone who does evil hates the light, and will not come into the light for fear his deeds will be exposed.

John 3:20 (NIV)

Had it been a movie, dark notes from a lone violin would have begun playing as soon as the man glanced away from the road to watch his wife, who was applying her frosted lipstick while gazing into the visor mirror. The eerie tempo would have intensified when he shimmied the wheel to test its stability while cruising down a county road breathing in the smell of new leather, first turning the air and then the heat on and off. Both worked, everything felt just right, and they were almost sure theyd buy this car. He checked his watch to see if there was still time to continue the test drive through Gitchie Manitou for one last look at the fall colors before returning this perfect ride.

Gitchie Manitou State Preserve in Lyon County is located in the most extreme northwest corner of Iowa, just a few miles southeast of Sioux Falls, South Dakota. He turned off at the entrance to the ninety-one-acre preserve, and the whir of new wheels on blacktop switched to the familiar sound of crunching gravel. Here the dramatic music would have grown more suspenseful. A rabbit darted across the road, and off to the right a whitetail deer stood in waist-high yellow prairie grass warily watching the car. He hadnt driven but fifty yards further when something up ahead alongside the road caught his attention.

Whats that? He turned to his wife. They knew this area well, and whatever was up there was definitely out of place among the rustic landscape. The man eased the car to a stop, stepped out leaving the door hanging open, called to his wife to stay in the car, and walked curiously toward the strange objects in the grass, thinking it couldnt possibly be what he thought it was. In this split second, the perfect morning deteriorated into one of the most horrific days of his life.

This cant be happening. Its not real.How could this be? Each explanation was as preposterous as the one before. The music would have reached its climax. Sprawled on the ground before him were three human figures, the arms and legs stiff and still and contorted into grotesque shapes. The bodies bore witness to what had obviously been a gory and unforgiving crime. The gaping wounds that riddled their bodies oozed dried streaks of glutinous blood. Tissue and blood splatters sprayed the dying brown grasses that cushioned the lifeless shapes. For a moment, the man glanced at the open eyes of the corpses who lay before him. Their fixed stares pleaded for someone to reveal the truth behind what caused their gruesome ending. The man raced back to the car and sped to the nearest phone.

Craig Vinson, a no-nonsense lawman with a serious disposition, worked long hours as the Lyon County Sheriff in this sparsely populated corner of Iowa. Anyone who thought the life of a rural sheriff involved handing out speeding tickets and having coffee at the local diner had no idea about the domestic abuse and physical trauma he witnessed on a regular basis. The worst calls were highway fatalities, the senseless carnage reminding him of lifes fragility. Now, after a demanding week that included an elusive theft ring that had escaped apprehension, he was looking forward to this day off, which he intended to spend in front of the television watching his favorite team, the Chicago Bears, even though he wasnt entirely confident they could pull one off against the Detroit Lions. The interruption of a phone ringing came as no surprise, having a large social circle in the small town of Rock Rapids, Iowa.