Editor: Jessica Efird
( academic.editing.nc@gmail.com )
Cover design by Alex Shaw (alex w shaw.com)
Copyright 2014 by Judith A. Yates
All rights reserved. No part of this book may bereproduced in any form by electronic means,to include information storage and retrieval systems, without permission in writing fromJudith Yates, except by a reviewer who may quotebrief passages in a review.
The poem Do Not Stand at My Grave and Weep is public domain as no author has established copyright control; several authors throughout time have been credited with the poem and many versions exist. The poem is most popularly attributed to Mary Elizabeth Frye in 1932.
Photo of the author by Rachel Stephens ( www.rachelstephensphotography.com )
Published by Judith A. Yates
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Dedication
To Andrea Brown, Jose Gonzalez, Steve Hampton, Angie Holmes, Sarah Jackson, Michelle Mace, Robert A. Sewell, and Ronald Santiago although evil lurks, you remind us of the good.
For Mary, who believes in me despite the obstacles.
And, as always, to my grandmother.
Crime has a ripple effect. It is akin to tossing a rock into a pool and watching the ripples grow wider and wider. The rock is the crime. The smaller ripples are family, friends, loved ones. The next ripples will be the neighborhood: acquaintances, schools, churches. You see persons close to the crime affected, then the community, then the city, then the state, and some crimes affect the continent and then the world. They are all victims. No one is ever left untouchedthat pool is forever changed.
- Professor J.A. Yates, on Crime & Society
Im going to be famous one day!
- Michelle Mace
I had a terrible dream that you were shot in the head by a robber.
- Wallingt on Santiago to his brother, Ronald, in 1992
Other books by Judith A. Yates
The Devil You Know: The crime they said cant happen here
Winner of the 2014 Killer Nashvilles Silver Falchion for True Crime
How to Recognize the Devil: Common Sense Self Defense & Crime Prevention Handbook
An Elephant Snuffled My Tent
ACKNOWLEDGEMENTS
With utmost gratitude and respect to the friend s and families of Andrea Brown, Jose Gonzalez, Steve Hampton, Angie Holmes, Sarah Jackson, Michelle Mace, Robert A. Sewell, and Ronald Santiago. You have all shown us how to live.
Thank you to the law enforcement officers, legal teams, volunteers, medical staff, and people who worked tirelessly and volunteered information to bring justice to the victims. A special thank you to Mitch Roberts and his family, without whom Paul Reid might still be destroying lives.
With special appreciation to the staff at the Nashville Public Library Archives Department, Clarksville Public Library Archives Department, Metro Nashville Police Department, Dunbar Cave State Park, and Clarksville Police Department.
I debated quite a while before taking on this project. I decided if the families of the victims voiced opposition, I would let it go. T hey supported it, and I am honored by their trust. I had amazing support from people who believed in me, and believed in the importance of telling these peoples stories. Sarah, Steve, Andrea, Ronald, Robert, Angie, Michelle, and Jose were always called victims. But their demise and trauma were only a small fraction of who they were. When we call them victim we gloss over the fact they were people: children, parents, friends, sisters, uncles , and more . To those who read of the crimes they are a tragic story of death; to those who knew them, they are a wonderful story of life. I thank everyone who shared these lives with me.
- J.A. Yates
When Nashville Bled, The Untold Stories of Serial Killer Paul Dennis Reid is not a fictionalized version of the victims or the crime spree of Paul Dennis Reid. The narrative is based on thousands of hours of interviews and communication , researching, and reviewing documentation, including reports, legal transcripts, video, photographs, media, court reports, and proven resources. All persons mentioned are real, but in order to protect some persons or business privacy, some name changes have been made; a name that appears initially in italics informs the reader of that change. Although a work of nonfiction, the nature of the story necessitated the need to recreate some conversations and activity, based on evidence and/or multiple sources, because no verbatim record exists. These alterations are as miniscule as possible in order to remain true to the story. Some people refused to be, or could not be, involved; therefore, their involvement stems from the recollection of events of other sources and personsthe people involved and I researched and reevaluated this information for accuracy. Any deviation from the truth is not intended. All of the dates, places, and events are true. A percentage of book sales will go to a nonprofit organization that benefits Nashville-area victims of crime. If one person whose life was destroyed by crime can be assisted, if one killer can be stopped, the innocent did not die in vain.
1 APRIL 23, 1997
It was closing time, and the two girls could not have been happier.
Darkness had already fallen and, at 10:00 p.m., Michelle Mace was ready to call it a day. She was busy cleaning the counters at the Baskin-Robbins ice cream parlor on a main thoroughfare in Clarksville, Tennessee. Michelle had been leaning into the coolers and scooping out ice cream, squirting whipped cream on top of sundaes, and placing cherries just so atop banana splits for several hours. Now it was time to clean the sticky remnants off the countertops. Almost time! she announced to her coworker, night manager Angela Angie Holmes.
Yay! Angie called out as she returned from locking the door behind the last customer. She was anxious to get home. She was a new mother, and her three-month-old baby girl was at home in a fit of fussiness with her daddy, Angies husband . Angie was a busy woman. Initially she had attended Indiana University on a scholarship, and was involved in ROTC to help pay for what the scholarship would not. When her husband was transferred to Fort Campbell, Angie followed him to Clarksville and now attended Austin Pea, enrolling in their ROTC program as well. She approached work with the same dedication as her studies and military training. Angie took a cleaning rag and began to attack the counters, wiping them to a gleaming shine. Angie was meticulous and demanding when it came to having a clean store.
Michelle was a cute girl. Her dark hair hung like a smooth bell around her face, showing off her high forehead, bright brown eyes, and ready smile. She was a bit more laid-back than Angie when it came to the future. Angie was only 21, but had a family, and her career plan was mapped out. Michelle was a teen who wanted to try everything, to take a big bite out of life and keep chewing. She was only 16, but she took her work seriously and she, too, prepared to begin closing duties.
One of the girls propped the freezer door open so they could quickly transfer the closed tubs of ice cream inside. As they began their work, they noted a tall, dark-haired man outside at the door. He knocked on the locked door and wriggled his fingers. He was grinning kind of goofily.