Murder in the Stacks: Penn State, Betsy Aardsma, and the Killer Who Got Away

by David DeKok

  Haefner claimed in his subsequent lawsuit that Monica Steward, a teacher for IU 13, became agitated when she saw him walk into the room. She pointed and accused him of assaulting the staff and said the IU was preparing to file charges against him. She urged the police officers who were there to remove Haefner and not allow him to stand in for Bruce’s mother or to take him home. Rick says he demanded that Steward either explain or retract the accusation, but she would not. The details of Haefner’s assault on IU staff members remain shrouded, but he was often accurate, at least to a point, in describing the “false” accusations against him in the many lawsuits he filed. He didn’t agree with the accusations—that was the point of the lawsuits—but his descriptions were usually accurate, allowing for some hyperbole. What was important here was that a woman, Monica Steward, had criticized and challenged him, and he was in a rage. He might get angry at men, such as his lawyer Richard Sprague, but against women who crossed him, he displayed pure, acid, scary rage.5

  Later in the day, Rick went to see Dr. Richard Sherr, the director of IU 13. He complained about the “slanderous statements” by Steward and demanded that she write a letter retracting the accusation. Sherr told Haefner he would look into the matter and give him a response. When it was not forthcoming after several days, Rick began telephoning Sherr’s office, demanding a retraction. There was still no response. On December 18,1991, Haefner and Harriet Sandomer had a meeting at the IU offices about Bruce. Steward was there, and when the meeting was over, he asked her point blank whether she would withdraw her accusation. “I won’t,” she said and strode out of the room.

  Haefner’s pro se lawsuit against the Intermediate Unit veered into Alice in Wonderland territory. He wrote that “Dr. Haefner is a good, true, honest, and virtuous inhabitant of this Commonwealth.” He had never been “arrested for assault,” which was true, though not for long, and “has never been convicted of a crime,” also technically true. As a result of Steward’s accusation, Haefner wrote, “Dr. Haefner has been greatly hurt and injured in his good name, fame, and reputation aforesaid, and has been brought into disgrace and disrepute among his neighbors.” It was all true, except that it wasn’t Steward who was responsible, it was Rick himself. The lawsuit dragged on for two years at a cost to the taxpayers of thousands of dollars in legal fees before it was finally settled on undisclosed terms on May 31, 1994.6

  Bruce ran away from home in early May 1992. When questioned a few weeks later by police in Chincoteague, Virginia, he claimed he stayed “with friends” after leaving home but didn’t know their names. He may well have been staying with Haefner. In an affidavit four years later, Bruce said he went to Rick’s house after a few days and asked to go to the seashore. “Rick did not kidnap me or get me to try to run away from home,” he said in the affidavit, sounding like a Soviet-era prisoner writing a self-criticism. “From the age of about nine, Rick Haefner helped raise me as a father would. We were very close.”7

  Oddly, Harriet did not report him missing until May 16. Five days later, without informing her, Rick took Bruce to Chincoteague Island, Virginia, the southern half of a windswept barrier island in the Atlantic Ocean (the northern half, which is in Maryland, is called Assateague Island). He had a trailer in Tom’s Cove Campground. There they stayed, working on Rick’s boat and repairing the trailer. According to Bruce, Rick had a word processor in the trailer, and they worked together, writing up a lawsuit against the Lancaster police. “I wanted to help him to criticize the police and do something to bring them under control, even though I was just a kid,” Bruce wrote in his 1996 affidavit. On what turned out to be their last day together, May 28, Rick drove Bruce to Ocean City, Maryland, a distance one-way of fifty-two miles. They spent a few hours on the boardwalk, riding the rides and having fun, before returning toward dusk.8

  How the Lancaster police learned he was with Rick in Chincoteague is unknown, but the information probably came from an upset and worried Harriet. She had let Bruce go there with Rick several times before. At 1:00 p.m. on May 28, Detective Raymond Dimm of the Juvenile Bureau phoned the Chincoteague police and asked them to be on the lookout for Bruce. He believed Bruce was with Rick in Tom’s Cove Campground and provided two possible license numbers for Haefner’s vehicle, a beat-up Dodge or Chevy van with a white camper top. Shortly before 3:00 p.m., Dimm called back with another detail, that the van was brown or bronze in color. He also provided a more detailed description of Bruce, saying he was five feet, two inches tall, weighed a hundred pounds, and had medium-length brown hair and brown eyes.9

  Around 11:45 p.m., officers knocked on the door of Haefner’s trailer. He answered and acknowledged that Bruce was there. They awakened him and took him to the Chincoteague police station, with Rick in hot pursuit. At the station, Haefner demanded to see the documents faxed by the Lancaster police and demanded to talk to a lawyer. “Mr. Haefner was informed he was free to talk to any attorney he chose and that we just needed to talk to [Bruce] and not him,” the Chincoteague police wrote in their report. Chief Willis Dize then escorted Bruce into his office. Haefner yelled after the thirteen-year-old, as any loving father figure would, “Bruce, keep your mouth shut!” About what? Bruce knew.

  The conversation went like this, according to the official police transcript: “Q: Did anything happen between you and Mr. Haefner while you were with him? A: No, and I don’t want to talk about it. Q: Talk about what? A: Every time we get around the police, they like to accuse Rick of doing things. He’s not like that.”

  Dize phoned Harriet Sandomer, who told him she did not want Bruce released to Rick’s custody and, in fact, wanted Haefner arrested. They let Bruce speak to his mother before taking him to Lighthouse Ministries, a church-run shelter, where he was to stay pending the arrival of a caseworker from Children and Youth Services in Lancaster.10

  They arrested Haefner the next day on a warrant from Pennsylvania, charging him with interfering in the custody of a child. Dimm had warned Dize to do everything by the book when he arrested Haefner. “He’s sued us a number of times, and he will sue you, too,” Dimm said (and he did). Rick was taken into custody after his van was pulled over and placed in the Accomack County Jail pending an extradition hearing. The police towed and impounded the van and then searched it. In a compartment in the van, they found a large collection of pornography, which they laid out on a table and photographed. Dize described the sex magazines as “fairly disgusting.” They subsequently searched the trailer and discovered more porn mags, but also a vibrator and rubber “butt plugs” intended for anal sex.11

  After learning Haefner had taken Bruce to Chincoteague, Lancaster County Children and Youth Services moved quickly. On June 2, while Rick was still in jail, the agency obtained an emergency court order, removing Bruce from his mother’s custody and placing him in the Fulton Shelter in Lancaster. Harriet attended the emergency hearing and agreed to the placement to prevent Rick from taking him away again. And there he stayed, with Haefner barred from visiting.

  By the time of Rick’s preliminary hearing on July 24, on the interference charge, Harriet was back under his sway. She testified that Rick had her permission to take Bruce to Chincoteague, even if she hadn’t known he was taking him on this particular trip. And she had been “relieved” to find out that Bruce was with Rick. Harriet had completely changed her story. As a result, the district magistrate threw out the charges. But a few days later, she went in a panic to the YWCA Sexual Assault Prevention and Counseling Center and told a supervisor that she feared her son had been molested. She refused, though, to have the Center open a case file, apparently afraid of Rick’s reaction.12

  Bruce reached his eighteenth birthday in 1996, and Haefner filed a petition in Inyo County, California, to adopt him. Why he did this is open to speculation. Bruce was old enough to decide with whom he wanted to live, but perhaps Rick feared someone would still make trouble for them. The petition, which was signed by both of them, said they intended to
move from Pennsylvania to California in November 1997. Inyo County, which is huge, includes both Death Valley and Shoshone, Rick’s home base when he did geological research for his master’s and doctoral degrees in 1967 and 1968. But something happened along the way and the adoption never went through. Perhaps Bruce had grown tired of Rick and wanted his youth back, or perhaps he simply matured to the point where he was no longer the pliable child Rick wanted. Bruce stayed in Pennsylvania and soon drifted into crime.13

  Chapter 36

  Neighborhood Menace

  Rick Haefner was also a physical menace to adults around him, or a threat to their property. In the early 1990s, he began losing any pretense of civility. By the end of the decade, he would show that it was quite plausible he had killed Betsy Aardsma so many years before in a temporary, blinding rage.

  The earliest incidents had to do with Haefner’s ill-mannered cocker spaniel named Dudley, to whom he was devoted. Three days after Haefner turned fifty on December 13, 1993, he was issued summary citations for disorderly conduct and “dog-at-large” by the Lancaster police. Dudley had been running loose in the Nevin Street neighborhood, getting into garbage cans and making a mess. The dog’s rambles drew a third citation on February 10, 1994. Two of Rick’s neighbors, Lori D. Miller and Tony Freeman, who lived at 221 Nevin Street, testified against him at a preliminary hearing on June 29.

  Perhaps eight hours after the hearing ended, and not long after midnight, Eric Smith, who lived across the street from Haefner, heard someone coughing outside. He looked out his second-floor window and had a clear view of Rick walking with Dudley, who was unleashed, back and forth in front of the row houses on the other side. Streetlights made it easy to see what was happening. Rick stopped in front of the Miller/Freeman residence, two doors down from his own house, and trampled the small flower garden in front of their home. Then he turned to Dudley, who was lying on the sidewalk, and appeared to mumble something to him. Then he picked up Dudley and carried him to his house and put him inside before returning to the porch.

  Smith observed Haefner walk toward the Miller/Freeman car, a blue Pontiac. He leaned down by one of the rear tires with one hand on the car trunk, then went back to his house. By now, Smith had called Freeman and Miller and told them what was going on. They went outside, saw their trampled garden and its mangled wire fence, which Haefner had also ruined, and heard a hissing sound coming from one of their rear car tires. Freeman placed soapy water on the punctured area and saw bubbles as air escaped the tire. Miller called the police and Haefner was arrested for witness retaliation, a serious offense. The jury found him guilty, and Judge Lawrence Stengel sentenced him to twelve months of probation, a $100 fine, and about $200 in costs and restitution. It was a comparatively light sentence.1

  A more violent incident occurred at Rick’s house a little over three months later, and it was a wonder that Rick, and especially his brother, George, were not shot by the police. George, who was fifty-six years old and heavyset, was visiting from California. He was in poor health, having suffered a stroke and two seizures the previous summer. Late in the morning of October 5, he had another seizure, collapsing outside but managing to make it back to his brother’s front steps. A passerby, observing him shaking and in a bad way, ran home and called 911, then came back to meet the ambulance crew from St. Joseph Hospital. Officer Christopher DePatto of Lancaster police arrived around the same time. Rick met them at the door and said his brother was up on the second floor. He led the crew inside and up the stairs, followed by Officer DePatto. Spotting the officer, Rick leaned over the second-floor railing and yelled, “Get the fuck out of my fucking house. No city cops allowed in my house.” DePatto told Rick he would leave and began backing down the stairs.2

  George’s seizure was over, but he was dangerously agitated. As the three ambulance attendants came up the stairs, he sprayed them with Mace. They hollered for help and DePatto raced upstairs, only to be sprayed in the face himself. He managed to help two of the attendants downstairs, but the third had locked himself in the bathroom. DePatto ran back inside and up the stairs to rescue the third medic. George once again hit him directly in the face with a blast of Mace. Amid the burning pain and profuse tearing, the officer opened his own can of pepper spray and emptied it back at George and Rick, who were standing next to each other. He retrieved the third medic and got him safely outside. Barely able to see, DePatto frantically radioed for assistance. Police cars began screeching to a halt outside. Officer Michael Corso and Sergeant Gary Metzger were told that George might have a rifle. They entered the house, which was filled with a choking cloud of Mace and pepper spray fumes that made their eyes and skin burn and left them coughing and gasping for air. At that point, Rick Haefner started coming down the stairs and demanded again that the police get out of his house. Corso told Rick that he had to arrest George for spraying Mace at the ambulance crew. “You’re not getting anyone!” Rick shouted, and abruptly pushed the officer, knocking him to the floor.3

  Sergeant Metzger yelled to Rick that he was under arrest and grabbed him from behind. Rick struggled to free himself and then lurched backward. Metzger lost his balance and pulled Haefner down with him. They fell against a small table, which broke under their weight. Rick continued to struggle, trying to break free. Officer Timothy Goodson, who wrote in his report that Rick “continued to behave like a wild man,” managed to get a handcuff on one of Haefner’s wrists. They dragged Rick off of Metzger, forced him out onto the porch, and then facedown on the ground. In that position, they were able to get the second handcuff on him.

  They took Rick to the police station, where he was allowed to call his lawyer of the moment, Roy Shirk, telling him, “This is Richard Haefner. I’m in jail again.” Meanwhile, police set up a defensive perimeter. They were worried about the firearms George was said to have access to in the house. For the next two and a half hours, they heard George yell things like, “You’re the Gestapo.” Eventually, he was talked out of the house and arrested. At St. Joseph Hospital, it took ten men to force George into the mental health holding room. Goodson found and removed a .22 caliber rifle from the house. It was amazing that no one was seriously injured or killed during the fracas.4

  Rick Haefner was charged with obstructing law enforcement, resisting arrest, simple assault, and disorderly conduct. The first three charges were dropped and he pleaded guilty to disorderly conduct, receiving twelve months of probation. Rick’s brother George was charged with four counts of simple assault and one count of disorderly conduct (fighting). He was released on $25,000 cash bail. George subsequently jumped bail and returned home to California. His bail was ordered forfeited on January 19, 1996.

  Rick had another face that he showed to the world—namely, that of the smiling, friendly proprietor of the Lost Dutchman Gemboree, an annual rock and mineral show that included exhibits of gold and jewelry from New York gem dealers and was billed as fun for the entire family. He presented himself as a sort of homespun Dr. Geology, offering gold-panning trips, visits to an iron mine in Morgantown, a quarry in Gettysburg, a site near St. Clair that was world-famous for fern fossils, even a visit to what appeared to be the same farm in Lancaster County where he had taken Chris Haefner in 1975, to collect goethite crystals, and where he had begun talking about Betsy Aardsma. Rick had run the show since 1986, first holding it in Strasburg and then moving it to the Lebanon Valley Exposition Center outside of Lebanon, Pennsylvania. The dates for the show in 1996 were August 14 through 18.5

  But on Saturday night, August 17, thieves broke into the North Hall of the Expo Center and made off with more than $838,000 in gold jewelry and precious stones from exhibitors. Their haul included Colombian emeralds, Burmese rubies (the most valuable of gems), and sapphires. Security, which had been promised to exhibitors on a twenty-four-hour basis in the contract they signed, led most of them to leave trays of gems in their booths overnight, while they slept at motels or in a campground. The thie
ves supposedly broke a window to gain entry, although some of the exhibitors didn’t believe this was the real means of entry.

  Lester F. Rittle, the head of security, says Haefner did not want the guards in the building overnight. Haefner claimed that was Rittle’s rule. Whichever it was, Rick hired two brothers he met at the Orange County Fair in New York in July to sleep overnight in the Expo Center in front of the locked doors between Center Hall and North Hall. “So if anybody tried to get in the lockup room, they’d have to crawl over them,” Haefner later testified. That assumed the thieves would come in the front door. Even if the brothers had heard or seen something, they didn’t have keys to North Hall. And they were out with Rick having dinner at a nearby Ponderosa Restaurant from 8:00 p.m., when the building was locked up, until around 11:00 p.m.6

  The eight gem dealers who were robbed were devastated, and one collapsed upon discovering his losses. The proprietors of Gems & Jewelry Palace, Inc., of New York, told the FBI that they lost more than $275,000 worth of gems, wiping out their life savings. Most did not have insurance because of the high cost of a policy, depending instead on the security guarantee in the contract. One of them called the Harrisburg Patriot-News that Sunday and complained bitterly about the lack of security. The author was the reporter who took the call. Using a phone number supplied by the caller, he reached Haefner, who denied security was lax. “We had good security. We always had good security,” Haefner said.7

  From the start, police, the FBI, and Cincinnati Insurance Co., which had sold a $500,000 policy to Haefner for the Lost Dutchman Gemboree, wondered if it was an inside job. They of course didn’t know Rick appraised emeralds for international drug dealers, which presumably would have given him the connections to move the stones without too much difficulty, if he indeed had masterminded the heist. North Cornwall Township Police checked the NCIC and discovered that one of the brothers hired by Rick for nighttime security had a criminal record in New York for grand larceny and weapons possession.8