An antiquated morgue was in the basement. The basement also was used for discipline purposes for inmates who violated rules. During recent years, the jail housed prisoners from the House of Corrections in Franklin, Wisconsin, who were in Milwaukee for court hearings or trials, or for holding men with probation and parole violations.
Inmates in the county jail were often on lockdown twenty-four hours a day, seven days a week. It wasn’t a pretty place. Peeling paint and graffiti covered the walls of every cell. In the winter the place was blazing hot in some places and freezing cold in others because old-fashioned radiators “heated” the jail. I remember being cold in my cell when I was there because I had no blankets or sheets, just a four-inch-thick blue mattress on top of the steel slab bed.
The only sounds were cell doors, clanging when they opened or closed, or the faint wail of police and fire sirens in the distance. That old county jail was also infested with two things I really hated: mice and cockroaches. It was the most uncomfortable place I’d ever been, so crowded that sometimes inmates slept on mattresses on the dayroom floor.
A few inmates in jail with misdemeanor offenses got jobs within the jail system. These men, called “trustees,” usually do general cleaning or assist with meals. When I was there, the trustees were paid about fifteen dollars a week.
Rumor spread at Columbia that even though smoking was not allowed anywhere in the county jail, Dahmer could smoke because he was being cooperative during his confession. Dahmer had not only confessed to his crimes, he gave details including the victims’ names, where he met each man or boy, how he killed them, and what he did with the bodies.
When the Columbia inmates heard that rumor, they were livid. Regardless of behavior, nobody let us smoke in our cells. It didn’t seem fair, especially when our crimes weren’t nearly as bad as Dahmer’s.
We learned later that the rumors were just that–rumors; Dahmer never smoked in jail. The only time he smoked was when various court-appointed psychiatrists, psychologists, doctors, attorneys, and members of the clergy interviewed him for hours at a time. All of those interviews took place in either Judge Gram’s chambers or in the library next to his chambers. Officials let Dahmer smoke during his interviews, but never in the jail itself.
Another rumor was that the guards at the county jail brought Dahmer hot restaurant meals after his hearings. I remembered during my stint there that, if I missed any regular meal time, all I got was a bologna sandwich and black coffee.
The truth, which I again learned later, was that the only people who brought Dahmer anything to eat from the outside were his attorney, Gerald Boyle, and Boyle’s assistants. The meals they brought him were usually only sandwiches and candy.
But the gossip mill made it sound as though Dahmer was living it up in jail.
With rumors of preferential treatment running rampant, the inmates at Columbia took an early dislike to Dahmer because they were jealous of what they thought he was getting rather than hating him because of the horrendous things he had done. Somehow, that seemed backwards. The new recreation was inventing crude jokes at Dahmer’s, and his victims’, expense.
“Do you know how much Dahmer’s bail is? An arm and a leg.”
“Do you know what kind of shampoo Dahmer uses? Head and Shoulders.”
The local newspapers started providing more grisly details about Dahmer’s crimes. Shocking a community of prisoners isn’t an easy thing to do, honestly, but the brutality of Dahmer’s crimes truly stunned us. Once again, the details of Dahmer and his crimes were the talk of the prison day after day.
Because of the publicity surrounding the case and the severe cruelty of the crimes themselves, Dahmer lived in an observation cell on the fifth floor, also known as Tier 5 East, of the county jail so he could be monitored for suicide attempts.
Tier 5 East had about one hundred and fifty single cells, each five feet wide by nine feet long. Like the rest of the prison, each cell had a sink, toilet, and a metal bunk bed.
There are seven observation cells on Tier 5 East. The observation cells are for inmates with multi-dysfunctional problems, highly publicized crimes, or prisoners needing protective custody. Dahmer, who qualified on all three counts, had a deputy posted in front of his cell twenty-four hours a day. The officer recorded all of Dahmer’s daily activities and conversations in a journal.
Because most of Dahmer’s victims were minorities, and because the prison population at the county jail is generally 75 percent African American, 15 percent Hispanic, and 10 percent Caucasian, the sheriff’s deputies felt a distinct need to protect him from the general prison population, including known, organized gang members within the walls of the jail.
Rumors flew surrounding racial motivations in Dahmer’s killings. We saw on the TV news that minority communities gathered in Milwaukee, grieving over the deaths of their young men. They were outraged to learn that merely two months before Dahmer’s capture, two Milwaukee police officers returned a Laotian boy to Dahmer’s apartment, and the boy died at Dahmer’s hands a short time later. We even heard that one black church group went to Dahmer’s apartment to perform an exorcism to “rid the place of evil.”
Dahmer’s actual apartment and its contents also were subject to heated debates involving different groups. Some folks wanted to auction off three hundred objects found in Dahmer’s apartment to raise money for families and communities affected by his crimes. Some of the items supposedly up for auction were the refrigerator where he stored victims’ body parts, hypodermic needles, vats used to remove victims’ flesh from bones, and various tools he used to cut up the bodies.
The idea of an auction caused a public outcry. Some of the victims’ families wanted the money from the auction because they figured they were the only ones entitled to “profit” from the tragedy. Others expressed anger, saying auctioning Dahmer’s instruments of death would be blood money. The thought of people actually wanting these grisly items should have been part of the general outcry. Not to mention, weren’t these things supposed to be evidence?
On the news, Theresa Smith, sister of victim Eddie Smith, said she wanted no part of the auction. She didn’t want to receive blood money from Dahmer’s belongings.
“I don’t want someone saying, ‘This is the axe that cut off Eddie’s head,’” she said. What kind of person would want that and then brag about having it? Many agreed with her.
Many folks wanted all the Dahmer “memorabilia” destroyed, a necessary step to provide closure for everyone and allow them to move on from the tragedy. A group of Milwaukee businesses offered to buy the entire collection for $1 million in an attempt to stop the auction.
Everyone was angry and choosing sides. No one knew what to do and there was no good answer.
In addition to the complications of a potential auction, lawsuits were starting. The parents of the fourteen-year-old Laotian boy who died after police escorted him back to Dahmer’s apartment filed a civil suit against those officers and the city of Milwaukee, citing their role in the death of their son. Other victims’ families wanted to sue Dahmer for damages.
Even Dahmer’s parents, Lionel and Joyce, dealt with lawsuits from people who wanted to sue them for being the original influence on Jeff’s behavior. People wanted to blame something or someone for how Dahmer “turned out.” They believed it had to be someone’s fault.
Dahmer drama was everywhere, even in his prison in Milwaukee. When inmates passed Dahmer’s cell on their way to the showers, they spit at him or made threats.
Every day at Columbia, we heard more stories about Dahmer at the Milwaukee County Jail. The recreational joke creation was still in full swing and more jokes filtered to our facility.
“What did Dahmer say when he was arrested at his apartment? Have a heart, guys.”
“Know why Jeffrey’s mother never comes over to his house for dinner? ‘Cause one time she did and she told Jeff that she didn’t like his friends. He said, ‘Well, then just eat the vegetables!’”
/> Officials set Dahmer’s initial court appearance, his bail hearing, for August 6, 1991. We saw on TV that he arrived at the courtroom escorted by a handful of deputies, wearing the same striped shirt and blue jeans he had on the night of his arrest. He joined his attorney, Gerald Boyle, and Boyle’s assistants. The prosecuting attorneys were District Attorney E. Michael McCann and Assistant District Attorney Carol White.
Bail was set at $1 million. Even if someone did raise that kind of money, Dahmer technically couldn’t be released because he had already violated his parole from 1988 surrounding the sexual assault of a thirteen-year-old Laotian boy, the brother of his later victim. Dahmer had drugged the boy, who was a high school freshman on his way home from school, and he likely would have been yet another murder victim, but the teen escaped Jeff’s apartment. When the boy got home, he passed out and his parents took him to the hospital where doctors discovered he had been drugged and sexually assaulted. The boy told police he’d been at the apartment of a man named Jeffrey. Jeff was arrested and his father hired Attorney Gerald Boyle to defend his son.
In January 1989, Dahmer pleaded guilty to second-degree sexual assault. In May 1989, Judge William Gardner put him on probation for five years and gave him a year in the Milwaukee County House of Correction under a work-release program. Dahmer could work during the day at his job at the Ambrosia Chocolate factory in Milwaukee but, at night, he returned to the dormitory-style corrections facility in Franklin, a suburb south of Milwaukee.
Dahmer was still on probation for that offense when the police arrested him for murder.
More rumors circulated that guards and sheriff’s deputies stopped at Dahmer’s cell to “look at him” or ask for his autograph. Apparently, some people thought they could make money off the autographs. This rumor proved true, but eventually the officers were reprimanded and the autograph-hounding stopped.
Dahmer was strictly protected from the general population in jail. Only when all the other inmates were in their cells would they let Dahmer out. Officers let him shower, go to the dayroom for recreation or to walk around, make a telephone call, or watch television. We heard that when Dahmer had visitors–doctors, attorneys, or family members–all other prisoners were locked in their cells.
Dahmer’s preliminary hearing drew a packed courtroom. Family members, friends, and neighbors of the victims along with the throng of media filled the seats. Dahmer’s father and stepmother, Lionel and Shari Dahmer, attended every day. One person missing was Jeffrey’s biological mother, Joyce Flint, who lived in California. She never attended any of the hearings.
At the preliminary hearing, arraignment was set for September 10, 1991.
A fellow inmate told me and whoever else would listen that once, when talking to Dahmer in the jail, Dahmer proclaimed, “God created the world in six days. Then he made white people and that was good. Then he created black people to serve white people and that was bad.” Who knows if it ever actually occurred.
During those days, Dahmer had lots of Christian literature in his cell, given to him by various ministers, priests, and nuns who came to the jail regularly to pray with the inmates or to teach Bible study.
By now, it had been almost a full year since I’d received the Lord into my life. Since then, I’d studied my Bible daily. For me, life at Columbia was pretty good. I had the right attitude. In Unit 2, Cell 35, I was active with my religion. I attended a noon Bible study in the chapel and I remember clearly how it was the first time in my life that I truly enjoyed myself, as a person. Church volunteers joined the inmates from all the units on those days at the Bible study. I looked forward to praising God and sharing my faith with others.
Pastor Gene Dawson talked to me when I was having difficulties. He’s the one who encouraged me to join the Bible study group. I also attended regular classes, studying math, computers, social studies, and language. During recreation, I’d work out on the weight-lifting equipment in the gym. I stayed busy and kept out of trouble.
Every day I asked Jesus to strengthen me and give me what I needed to keep going, not just what I “wanted” but what I “needed” to be strong in my faith.
Between September 1991 and February 1992, I was determined to do my best and be my best in every way possible. I wasn’t going to let anyone push my buttons and get me in trouble. I resolved to stay in school, do my assignments, practice my religion, attend church services and Bible study, and help other inmates.
During early February 1992, because of good behavior, I was granted a transfer to a medium-security institution of my choice. I chose to remain at Columbia.
I did a lot of reading those days. Of course, I read my Bible every day, but I also read more about Dahmer and, as I did, I found myself drawn to Bible passages about Satan. I wanted to find out more about how a man could do the things they said Dahmer did. I prayed for Dahmer, asking God to save his soul and to help him see the power of God.
Five
Trials of Life Inside Maximum Security
These wicked men, so proud and haughty, seem to think that God is dead. They wouldn’t think of looking for him! Yet there is success in everything they do, and their enemies fall before them. They do not see your punishment awaiting them. They boast that neither God nor man can ever keep them down–somehow they’ll find a way! Their mouths are full of profanity and lies and fraud. They are always boasting of their evil plans. They lurk in dark alleys of the city and murder passersby. Like lions they crouch silently, waiting to pounce upon the poor. Like hunters they catch their victims in their traps. The unfortunate are overwhelmed by their superior strength and fall beneath their blows. “God isn’t watching,” they say to themselves; “he’ll never know!” (Psalms 10:4-11, TLB)
In September 1991, because of security risks, threats on his life, and the fear that he might attempt suicide, officials decided to transfer Dahmer to our facility while he awaited his trial.
Columbia Correctional Institution, a double-maximum-security facility, was a relatively new prison. Opened in June 1986, built to house four hundred and fifty male inmates but later modified for more, it averaged a little more than eight hundred prisoners. Four towers, one on each corner of the prison property, secured Columbia. Guards, armed with high-powered rifles, manned towers and patrol deputies, equipped with two-way radios, walked the perimeter of the property twenty-four hours a day, seven days a week, every day of the year. The fence around the prison was twelve feet high with coils of skin-shredding razor wire at the top. An electronically controlled sensor alerted security of any escape attempt. There has never been a successful escape from Columbia. That’s the point of a double-max: to keep the bad people separated from the good.
Many inmates were on “lockdown” twenty-one hours a day, seven days a week, every day of the year. Lockdown was exactly that: locked in a cell with three hours of free time a day. Lockdown prisoners only left their cells for a half-hour for each meal and daily ninety-minute recreation, which was mostly to keep their bodies working.
When prisoners arrive at Columbia, they take a required shower and receive clean clothing–a green shirt and pants, underwear, brown socks, and brown work boots. Inmates who come from other institutions for disciplinary reasons or those with heavily publicized cases wear orange clothing.
In September 1991, word spread through the facility like wildfire that Dahmer would be living in our midst. I wasn’t sure how I felt about the news. As a Christian, I made every effort to ignore other prisoners’ hate-filled discussions and commentary. I had a belief that many didn’t seem to share. Dahmer was, after all, another human being with a soul and I believed that he, like everyone else, had the potential for spending all eternity with God in heaven.
I wondered, because of the religious materials requests he had made, if Dahmer had asked the Lord for forgiveness or if he even understood the seriousness of his crimes.
When Dahmer entered Columbia for the first time, they stripped him of his street clothing, forced him to shower,
and provided the required orange clothing. Dahmer wore orange clothing for months after his trial. It wasn’t until the fall of 1992, when he was sent to the mental-health unit–the one we called SMURF–that he was finally allowed to wear regular prison clothes.
Dahmer moved to “Desegregation Unit 1” under heavy security. The institution administration, department staff members, the warden himself, security director, and the deputy warden accompanied him. It was a parade of officials. You’d have thought the president of the United States was visiting.
Jeff’s new home was an observation cell. At Columbia, this is a “tank” made of bullet-proof glass where Dahmer could easily be monitored twenty-four hours a day, both by correctional officers positioned in a booth in front of his cell and by the two cameras inside the cell. The officers watched Dahmer for any suicide attempt and documented everything he did or said.
The glass-tank cells are the same size as regular cells but with some major differences. In the glass tank, the beds have straps attached, used to restrain prisoners to the bed, if necessary. The bed is in the center of the cell and there is no sink or toilet. The floor is a concrete slab. There’s a literal hole in the concrete for the prisoner to urinate or defecate. When the prisoner finishes their “business,” the guard flushes the makeshift toilet from outside the cell.
While inmates are in observation cells, they wear only underwear and T-shirt and are not allowed any recreation. Meals are the same as in the other units, although glass-tank prisoners can’t to leave their cells to eat. Meals are served through “trap doors” in the cells and, during delivery, inmates must stand toward the rear of their cells.
During his time in the glass tank, Dahmer emerged only for showers, medical appointments, and haircuts. There’s a barber chair near the officer’s booth where inmates get haircuts every two weeks from barbers who visit units escorted by security officers.
Inmates are allowed paper and personal hygiene items. Each inmate received one razor each week for shaving but must return it after each shave. Prisoners in the glass tank can only shave while an officer observes.
Serial Killer's Soul Page 5
