One of the US’ most intense crime sprees was underway 20 years ago now. And I had a front-row seat.
Ten random, innocent people were shot and killed and a handful survived injuries wrought by a grown man and a juvenile boy with long-range weaponry, better known as the metro DC snipers. Their reign of terror in the mid-Atlantic encompassed three weeks in October 2002, and the victims died in Maryland, Virginia and the District of Columbia.
In the early evening of October 2, I began gathering news about a homicide in Wheaton, Maryland, north of DC in Montgomery County. Via phone calls I learned a man was gunned down that Wednesday eve in the parking lot of a supermarket that was directly across the street from a satellite station of the Montgomery County police. I later learned that this homicide not only perplexed investigators but also told them they were dealing with a serious, challenging issue.
Investigators cordoned off the entire parking lot and all people inside the yellow tape had to submit to an interview with police in order to be cleared to leave, an officer later told me. Not one person who police confronted was able to provide them material information.
The next morning, the Gates of the Underworld violently swung wide open.
Four people were randomly shot and killed within two-plus hours in Montgomery County on Thursday, October 3. When I first learned about these attacks, I called an editor and theorized these may be linked with the homicide I covered the night prior. He then assigned me to go to the Wheaton supermarket parking lot.
While en route, I called a friend to warn him about what was happening in Montgomery County. Howard lived in a Northern Virginia county on the southern border of DC and when I raised him on his cell phone, I immediately warned him of the peril at hand.
‘Howard: you have got to stay away from Montgomery County’, I told the guy I’d known nearly three years. ‘Don’t go anywhere near Montgomery County. It is so dangerous in Montgomery County.’
‘What are you doing, Henry?’ Howard asked.
‘I’m driving on the Capital Beltway’.
‘Where are you going?’
‘Montgomery County’.
The victims who were killed that morning were sitting on a bus stop bench, mowing a commercial lawn, and vacuuming and fueling their cars at a service station. Additional victims later were killed during the spree while pumping gas and that nite an older man named Pascal Charlot was killed while walking on a DC street. He was the only Washington victim of the snipers. I later attended Mr. Charlot’s funeral as a reporter and learned he was renowned and respected as one of the first pioneers of the Haitian community in Washington.
People in metro DC were terrified. Among their safety precautions were walking in public in a zig-zag pattern. Some stuck fuel pumps into their car tanks then quickly retreated back inside the car until they were finished pumping. Recreational events like Pop Warner football games were either cancelled or re-located to more secure stadiums.
The Friday nite of that bloody week held a memorable event that I had long planned to attend by purchasing tickets months in advance. The home stadium of Washington’s professional football team, located east of the city in Maryland’s Prince George’s County, was hosting a rock concert and the stage was situated in one end zone. As the concert continued, the presence of another stage became clear.
Amid the dangers the public was facing at the time, there were measures of comfort and reassurance while watching four men confidently strut along the catwalk to the mini stage toward the middle of the field. Those men were the Rolling Stones.
Investigators scoured the scenes where the attacks occurred, often finding clues such as tarot cards and even notes specifically for police that threatened public safety. One police source told me of taking a call from the juvenile during the spree, but the juvenile preferred to speak with one of this source’s partners with whom he had spoken. But that partner was unavailable so the sniper abruptly cut the line.
Early Saturday evening, October 19, I was in the newsroom and received word about two shootings. I called a source and mentioned one shooting was in Maryland.
’That’s not a shooting you want to look into’, the source told me.
I then mentioned the other shooting, which was north of Richmond, Va.
‘You probably want to look into that one’, the source told me.
I then informed my editor that the sniper likely had struck again and I promptly left the newsroom for 95 South, taking specific directions from that editor who learned more about the specifics then relayed them to me as I drove.
And drive I did. That, in retrospect, is the fastest I’d ever driven — while on 95 the needle pushed 95, incidentally. As I continued barreling south, I noticed snarled traffic on the northbound side, later learning not only did police set up a dragnet on 95 North but also the suspect vehicle was able to elude that northbound dragnet when passing through it.
The shooting had occurred in the parking lot of the Ponderosa Steakhouse in Ashland, roughly 90 miles south of the District. A traveler caught a bullet in the stomach and survived, and investigators found a threatening letter and a ransom demand in the woods.
I spent the nite at an Ashland motel and awoke Sunday morning October 20 to news about an upcoming press conference. Though repeatedly delayed, when it finally did ensue a county sheriff and police chiefs provided vague information but one pointedly said parents were to decide whether to send their children to school.
After gathering additional news in Ashland, I headed north, relayed that news to co-workers on the way and later headed to a long-planned dinner with friends in Montgomery County.
Several of the murders and shootings occurred near several Michaels craft stores, and it later came out that likely was purposeful because the grown sniper was attempting to terrorize his wife who worked at Michaels. She had left him and also took their children so he was attempting to exact a measure of revenge.
When the two snipers were apprehended, a source told me an interesting story. The suspect car was spotted on October 24 at a Maryland highway rest stop northwest of Washington. From afar, police saw the parked car, which they later discovered had a sniper’s nest built into the trunk, but they only saw the silhouette of one person in the back seat. They made the decision to rush the car and take at least one suspect into custody though they remained fearful that the other suspect may have been keeping watch from somewhere along the perimeter.
When police arrived at the car, they ordered out whom they saw from a distance. That was the juvenile.
But they also discovered the older man was asleep.
Police separated the suspects into respective patrol cars and within minutes, the older man — despite knowing that he likely had lost his freedom forevermore — resumed sleeping.
Both sniper suspects were convicted of multiple murders and the grown man was put to death by capital punishment in Virginia. The juvenile was spared the death penalty, in large part because he was a juvenile when committing the murders.