ICE COLD CASES

"A cold case is a crime or an accident that has not yet been fully solved and is not the subject of a recent criminal investigation, but for which new information could emerge from a new witness testimony, re-examined archives, retained material evidence, as well as fresh activities of the suspect.  New technical methods developed after the case can be used on the surviving evidence to re-analyze the causes, often with conclusive results."  Thanks, Wikipedia.  

While researching and photographing different cold cases in Colorado, I decided to research a bit more into my obsession.  Don't worry, I currently have a few spine-tingling blogs on the back burner, but first, I want to explain not only the importance of cold cases, but also the unknown reality behind them.  I assure you that cold cases aren't as rare as one would assume.  I researched a few different sites, including National Geographic, NBC News, The Denver Channel, and the Telemasp Bulletin which is the Texas Law Enforcement Management and Administrative Statistics Program, and I found some interesting percentages and factual information that we all should be aware of.  

Guess how many cold cases are open today in America, dating back only to 1980?  Guess higher.  200,000 cold cases.  Apparently, today's "national clearance rate for homicide" is 64.1%.  That literally estimates that only two of every three murders get solved.  According to my research, fifty years ago the clearance rate was 90%.  I am slightly concerned in exactly how much of that 90% is actually full of 100% guilty verdicts, but I do acknowledge the obvious and rapid decline in numbers over the years.  I am also considering the fact that DNA was discovered about thirty years ago, so a majority of this 90% was also solved without DNA.  

Researchers and detectives believe the increase in cold case files is a result of a few things including lack of experienced detectives and an increase in murders where the killer and victim are strangers.  Although I have assumed that cold case special units have existed as far back as murderers began perfecting their art, the truth is these specified groups were not created until the 1980's in the Miami Police Department.  Unfortunately, cold cases are not worked in chronological order, but rather in priority ratings.  In other words, these detectives begin with cases that are more likely to be solved. Whether there is previously existing clues and witnesses to be re-examined or newly collected evidence to be looked into, these cases hold priority over ones where no substantial evidence was ever found at the time of the crime.  It is not a secret that the United States has the highest number of unsolved murders.  According to NBC News, there were a reported 4,566 homicides in 1963 and 14,811 in 2007.  It is concluded that approximately 6,000 murders turn ice cold every year.  

The District of Columbia's Metropolitan Police Department did a study using 189 cold cases.  I think this is significant in not only showing why cold case units were developed, but also how effective they can be.  They were able to convict 24% of the culprits and were able to eliminate another 24% through "exceptional" means which labeled the killer as either dead, already serving a prison sentence, or missing.  Even though 99 of these 189 cases remain open, I still believe that each and every one is a successful task.  That's 90 families who finally received some sort of closure that they did not already have.  

Thanks to the Telemasp Bulletin, I was able to study the percentages of specific types of crimes growing into cold cases.  For example, 21% of drug related killings turn cold, while 14% of gang related murders and 14% of murderers who know their victims go unsolved.  Another 13% of these cases are unsolvable due to the incapability to identify the victims.  

Another reason so many cases have yet to be closed is a result of the actual time-consuming police work required is not what most people assume.  So many television shows spoil viewers and provide us with the cessation of crimes within thirty to sixty minutes when in reality, these investigations take way more than an hour to serve justice.  It's simple to understand why these homicidal puzzles take so long to put together when you consider the amount of time it takes to locate and interview suspects and witnesses.  Also, the amount of time it takes for physical evidence to be properly probed is not instantaneous.  Cold case investigators justifiably spend hours and hours reviewing files, re-interviewing witnesses, examining physical evidence, and communicating with previous investigators who have past experience with individual cases.  

The focus I possessed when I began my research on unsolved crimes was to ultimately discover how cold cases are eventually and finally solved.  Ironically, I seem to have stumbled on somewhat of a disagreement on what the key element is behind closing crimes from many years ago.  Some percentages hold DNA as the breadwinner, whereas some claim new witnesses are mostly responsible for successfully sealing cases.  My opinion?  Well, I think both are equally powerful when dealing with these cases.  Here's why.  

The very first crime where DNA was introduced and successfully delivered justice was on November 6, 1987.  Circuit Court in Orange County, Florida used DNA, which consists of biological materials including skin, hair, blood, and bodily fluids, to serve justice to rapist, Tommie Lee Andrews.  I bet that mother fucker did not see that coming.  Thanks to DNA, law enforcement was able to create a database that consists of over five million convicted criminal records.  All fifty, American states require sex-offenders to contribute their DNA samples as well.  It's amazing how many prison sentences are given out with 100% confidence all resulting from DNA development.  What is even more astonishing is the fact that all humans share 99.9% of identical DNA sequences.  I suppose 0.01% extends more power than the norm would think.  

Robert Davis is part of the Police Executive Research Forum, and he states that silent witnesses coming forward solve more cold cases than DNA.  I can absolutely see the truth behind his words.  Many witnesses are naturally too terrified to speak up about what case closing facts they secretly possess.  As year after year passes, the fear and, in some relationships, compassion for the killers disintegrate, allowing people to find the confidence to finally come forward to detectives.  Many witnesses are not tied to the murderer any longer through fear, relationships, and friendships after so much time goes by.  Some witnesses find themselves in a troubling situation where revealing what they saw years ago can, in return, lighten their own prison term or have another kind of personal benefit as the motivation.  

In the middle of my factual research on this cold case topic, I came across a witty, yet educational article on Cracked.com.  It is called "5 Mind Blowing Ways People Solved Unsolvable Cold Cases," and i highly recommend it.  Two of the five stories really grasped my attention.  The first case details the genius idea executed by two detectives, Jim Scharf and Dave Heitzman,  In 1979, Snohomish County's Susan Schwarz was fatally shot and strangled in her own home.  Her killer was never brought to justice.  Thirty-two years later, these two detectives created decks of playing cards with each card detailing different missing people in the area.  They dispersed the decks throughout Washington state prisons and offered rewards in exchange for information on the cases.  A fifty-seven year old prisoner from Seattle saw a playing card with Susan Schwarz's face on it that struck familiarity, and he surrendered the information to the police.  Apparently his exact words were never detailed, however, there is reason to believe he was a silent witness to the crime and was prevented by fear from speaking up.  

Another one of the stories in this article is about something I never heard of before, and I want to spread the existence and awareness of it.  There is an actual web site dedicated to cold case victims.  The DOE Network has claimed to be a "Facebook for the dead."  It was created in 1999 and currently supported by the Responsible Volunteer Community by the U.S. Department of Justice.  Pretty much, random people post information on missing people and unsolved cases on this web site, and once enough material is collected, it is passed on to the police in the hopes of solving crimes.  Some volunteers also donate their time by skimming through pictures of missing people featured on the site and comparing them to pictures of the deceased on the coroner's web site, in the hopes of finding a match and putting a name on a mystery corpse.  This site alone has assisted in solving sixty-six cases and located hundreds of people who were missing.  Check out www.doenetwork.org and donate some of your time to helping families of victims cease their heart-wrenching questions revolving around their victimized loved ones.  

The whole premise of this blog is to express how far awareness can travel, and how much impact it can have on well deserving people.  I may not be capable of assisting with DNA, but I am more than eager to attempt to get the attention of silent witnesses by continuing my journey of spreading the awareness of cold cases.  I have watched and read numerous cases go from cold to closed all because of witnesses and confessions.  People on their death beds with case-solving information on the tips of their tongues, standing between them and the gates of Heaven and Hell can, in my opinion, be easily convinced to spill their guts simply by striking their sense of familiarity through victims' pictures and details.  With the same idea as the playing cards, a Cold Colorado Magazine can clearly benefit and assist in closing cold cases.  My goal is to create, execute, and disperse this magazine throughout society.  If my idea leads to just one cold case being closed, it is a success!  

THE STRANGE COLD IN LOVELAND

While skimming through the endless Colorado cold case files, I came across one that caught my eye.  Not only did I learn a lesson that was beat into everyone's head (including my own) at some point in their lives, but I also found something a little suspicious about this case.  What do you think?

Angela Howard was a thirty-six year-old woman who was shot numerous times to her death in her Loveland, Colorado home on the block of 36th Street and Butternut Drive.  If I would have thoroughly looked at the pictures of her home that is shown in just about all twenty different news articles, I would have my own photography of the exterior of her home.  Unfortunately, it was not until I drove over an hour back to my apartment when I realized her house number was pictured all over the web.  #3615 will live in my memory of regrets for a short while.  

On Sunday, February 1, 2015, she was found during a wellness check that was called in to the police from who news sources believed was her ex brother-n-law.  Neighbors were also skeptical of her unusual absence for over a week.  This was uncommon for the cleaning company owner and mother of an eleven year-old daughter who lived with her father.  The people on the block had recently noticed another disturbance in Howard's life which lasted about three months up until her death.  It was not long before neighbors, specifically Ken Wiezorek who lived three doors down from her, suspected a domestic violence situation ever since Howard's Philadelphian boyfriend, Russell Woolman, moved in with her.  It was apparent that the normally friendly Howard had a drastic change in her personality.  The woman neighbors described as being personable and social in the community transformed into a timid character.  Howard confirmed everyone's suspicions when she wore an unsuccessfully covered up, black eye to the laundry mat.  When police were seen carrying out evidence that included a mattress with numerous bullet holes in it, neighbors all pointed to the same man. 

One day and forty miles later, this case blew open when fifty-two year-old Woolman was discovered dead in Howard's missing truck near Lyons, Colorado.  The gun found next to his corpse was verified as the one responsible for the bullets in Howard's body.  Strangely, there were no signs of traumatic injuries on Woolman, which leads me to assume his death was not caused by gunshots.  Huh?  It does not take a genius to label this entire scene as outlandish.  There is definitely a piece missing in this puzzle.  

Police did make it official that Howard's death is a homicide, however, they never really indicated that it was a simple, open and shut murder-suicide case.  The police were also were very careful as to the facts they revealed to the public.  They declined to give  the time of death on either body, and have not released any arrests of suspects.  They did, however, state that they don't believe the public is in any related danger.  The Rocky Mountain Property Management had contributed zero facts on the crimes.  I have read different news sources, some stating the district attorney's office listed Woolman as the suspect they would normally charge if he were still alive, yet the last I heard was that the Boulder County Coroner's Office is still working on the details of his death.  This is the strangest part.  The latest information I can find on this case is dated back to February 26, 2015.  

I don't know about you, but something about this does not sit well with me.  Why did this case just disappear, taking all the critical details with it?  With all the information neighbors knew about Angela Howard, how were gunshots not heard?  When someone murders out of anger, the last thing on their soulless minds is the boisterous sounds exploding from their violence.  This murderous event appears to be more pre-meditated than impulsive in my eyes.  I'm unclear if the police are withholding this information because they are still investigating it, or if this crime was just simply buried and unrecalled.  

I do find it believable that the killer of both, Howard and Woolman, is still out there.  Typically, when cops are in the process of locating culprits, they keep key facts about the case away from the public's ears in order to eliminate false accusations and bogus confessions.  Besides, am I the only one wondering why the police have not mentioned the father of Howard's daughter?  Every investigative television show I have ever seen always begins with the victim's present and previous lovers.  There is no doubt in my mind that Woolman was an abusive bastard, but this crime appears to be a bit too advanced for someone like him.  

RoCkY Colorado: NEVER FORGET

Please forgive me, for I have a deep passion for researching cold cases.  Everyday I ponder how these chilling stories got a grasp on me.  Over the years, I have concluded that one of the main reasons behind this morbid obsession is because many people forget about these victims.  Years fly by, and unsolved cases become buried underneath the dust of even more murder victims.  Although I can't put on latex gloves and investigate until I find the culprits, I can ease their angelic souls and let them know that I did not forget.  Even more, I can spread the awareness of these cases so people have a better understanding of these intense and continuous crimes.  Perhaps this mindfulness can prevent people from being snatched from their loved ones.  It takes years to build a life, but it only takes a second to lose it.  

Floyd T. Hafley, II was murdered on May 1, 2005.  From all the articles and interviews I've read, it appears that he drove to the Denver Wrangler, a gay bar located at the intersection of 17th and Logan Street in Denver, CO.  Apparently he was too drunk to drive and asked a bartender to call him a taxi.  Hafley was seen waiting outside the bar around 2am.  Three hours later he was found about fifteen driving minutes away in a Dahlia Shopping Center parking lot.  The stockbroker was found alive without his clothes, wallet, or class ring.  All he had was seven bullets in his forty year-old body.  He died later that morning in the hospital.  

None of my research specified whether or not he was picked up by the cab.  I would assume the assigned taxi driver would be one of the first likely suspects interviewed.  The fact that this was not even mentioned makes me believe he was picked up by someone else.  It literally could have been anyone.  It could have been someone in the bar who noticed his wallet was overflowing with cash.  It could have been a ruthless, random driver who had a thirst for blood.  It could have been an ex lover.  It could have been someone he drunkenly bumped into on the way to the bar's bathroom.  It could have been a bartender.  It could have been a man who wanted a homosexual encounter, but could not stomach this stranger spilling his secret.  It could have been someone who disturbingly thought they were doing an act of religious beliefs by eliminating a gay sinner off the street.  I don't know if it was personal, and I am not confident I will ever find out if one of my suspicions is actually true.  

Hafley's parents believe that whatever did happen to their son commenced in the bar.  The one thing that makes me agree with this is how busy and lit up the surrounding area is.  Maybe it was because the Broncos game was on and it was not two o'clock in the morning, but regardless, the upscale atmosphere had other establishments that appeared to also stay open to Saturday night owls.  I may never find out what happened in that three hour span, but along with the Hafley family and the executioner, I will never forget.  

RoCkY Colorado: "I Cannot Wait Any Longer To Impress You"

Did you ever wish to meet someone who just adores you?  Someone who is just head over heals in love with you?  DId you ever wonder if this someone already exists and you just don't know it yet?  Be careful what you wish for because such individuals exist.  Individuals who can bring a whole new terminology to certain words, such as love and stalk.  

Another location I accompanied my rental car to while visiting Denver was the Golden Hours Motel.  A quick google search informed me that John Warnock Hinckley Jr. spent sixteen days here right before driving to Washington D.C. to fire six bullets at, then president, Ronald Reagan.  

The Golden Hours Motel is located on West Colfax Avenue in Lakewood, Colorado.  While driving there, I had the slightest idea of who Hinckley was, but I believe there's always the possibility of capturing energy in the form of orbs in photographs.  Sometimes I think you can even feel the leftover negativity in places where such gloomy and psychotic ideas were formed years ago.  The crisp and polluted air has a way of tickling your stomach, much in the way how panic caresses your inner lining.  My research also suggested that, "If you listen closely you can hear the wind cry Jodie Foster."  

The only things my ears heard there was heavy traffic and the sounds of poverty escaping each dilapidated, motel door.  I did not spend much time in the small complex, which I do regret now that I know the intense truth of exactly who stayed in room 29 from March 8th to March 23rd in the year 1981.  

Hinckley Jr. was born on May 29, 1955 in Oklahoma.  His prosperous family moved to Texas, and then to Evergreen, Colorado in 1974.  He spent most of his time outside the Hinckley nest, attending school in Texas, and eventually  moving to New Haven, Connecticut.  Although he enrolled at Yale University, this was neither his focus, nor his influence behind the move.  He was dedicated to stalking Jodie Foster, who was also a student at Yale.  Jodie Foster also starred in Taxi Driver, which dangerously attracted Hinckley Jr.  His fascination rapidly escalated into a perilous obsession, which influenced him to slide poems and letters under her door and frequently call her.  

Apparently, he was devoted to gaining her attention in the hopes of impressing her.  He went as far as shadowing Jimmy Carter during his presidential run, but got busted in Nashville, Tennessee.  After failing, he shifted gears and put his target on the newly elected president's chest, which belonged to Ronald Reagan.  

Hinckley spent over two weeks at the Golden Hours Motel plotting the president's assassination.  He rented the room next to one of the hotel's maids, Ginger Aucourt.  Ginger and her daughter, Stacy, both described the criminal as a quiet and friendly man who kept to himself.  They recalled him having no visitors, nor did they see any signs of drugs or alcohol abuse.  On March 23, 1981, Hinckley Jr. left a $55.40 unpaid bill and continued his dysfunctional road trip to Washington D.C.  He checked into the Park Central Hotel which is a couple of blocks away from the White House.  At 2:25pm on March 30, 1981, Hinckley Jr. pulled the trigger of a .22 caliber revolver six times.  Although he directly missed the president with all six shots, one bullet backfired off the limousine and flew into Reagan's chest.  

Ultimately, Hinckley Jr. was found not guilty due to reason of insanity.  Instead of decomposing in prison, he has been mentally institutionalized ever since.  The public was so unsettled with his final verdict that as a result, the Insanity Defense Reform Act was created in 1984.  

There's no doubt in my mind that this man is damaged to the extreme, but if this man really is insane to the point where he can practically be excused from attempting to murder the president, how in the world did he drive from Colorado to Washington D.C. alone?  Yes, I recently took a three day road trip from New Jersey to Colorado, but I completely relied on a GPS system.  I just can't fathom a "crazy" man possessing the wisdom required to follow a map across the United States of America, yet somehow cannot be held responsible for his horrific actions.  I wonder if his money infested parents hired Johnny Cochran to defend him.  

During Hinckley's investigation, police did recover a letter written to Jodie Foster in his Park Central Hotel room.

"Over the past seven months, I've left you dozens of poems, letters, and love messages in the faint hope that you could develop an interest in me.  Although we talked on the phone a couple of times I never had the nerve to simply approach you and introduce myself....The reason I'm going ahead with this attempt now is because I cannot wait any longer to impress you."  
-John Hinckley, Jr.

RoCkY Colorado: The Things You Can Hear Over the Phone

Halloween is creeping up on us.  Let's embrace the scares that come along with the leaf falling season and get our blood pumping with some true stories of horror.  

Back in April while I was visiting Denver, Colorado, I discovered that the internet holds an endless amount of chilling stories that happened over the years in the large state of Colorado.  Being the weirdo that I am, of course I spent time driving to creepy places to photograph the eerie energy dancing in the wind.  

Just recently, I thoroughly researched the two stories and areas I visited, and I found them to be a little more heart wrenching and blood curdling than I originally thought.  Somehow, the few pictures I have hold so much more terror now while looking at them as opposed to the day I actually captured the shots.  

The first place I cruised my rental to was a Seven Eleven located at West Colfax Avenue and Perry Street in Denver.  On Saturday, December 20, 1997, nineteen year-old, Michael Avila, was beaten to death while his fiancee, Tia Jacobson, listened on the other end of the Seven Eleven pay phone.  While attempting to dig up facts on this horrible murder, I searched through years worth of unsolved crimes resting in the Denver Police Department Cold Case Unit in order to find it.  With the help of this combined with the Denver Post, I was able to process the true emotion and devastation behind that wicked time.  

The more detailed version of the story reveals that the once kick boxer asked his brother, Mark, to drive him to the Seven Eleven pay phone to call his fiancee around 2:30AM.  There, an unknown man got out of his 1987 Buick Riviera and joined two other nameless men, who jumped over a fence near the convenience store parking lot,in bashing their victim to a bloody pulp.   Michael died twelve hours later in the hospital.  Unfortunately, these three random slayers caught Michael off guard.  Although he had trained in martial arts, he also had been battling testicular cancer for the past ten months.  

Although this intense mystery is negatively haunting, there is a brighter light that I came across during my mini investigation. Prior to this grisly event, Mark claimed that Michael disclosed a dream he had.  Michael told Mark that in his dream he was jumped and wouldn't be there to witness the birth of Mark's child.  Even more intriguing, Michael reportedly stated, "Don't be surprised if the baby looks like me."  He then proceeded to tell Mark how he was going to be reincarnated through Mark's unborn baby.  

Even though this reincarnation cannot truly be confirmed, nor denied for that matter, the one strange thing my research did reveal is that the baby's due date was February 12 and Michael's birthday was February 13.  Again, no confirmation, but certainly something that makes you go hmmm.  

My second Rocky Colorado exploration is up next...

EAR THERAPY: Dirty Heads

The last guitars that were strum before my eyes belonged to the Dirty Heads.  The band played inside the infamous Festival Pier located in Philadelphia.  Beings how it was my first time there, I was not clear on what to expect.  For starters, crossing the street towards the blaring music was like jumping into a mini paradise.  The small, outdoor venue was decorated with sand and tents.  It induced the feeling of the beach without having to hide your beer from the seagulls, and after a couple cranberry vodkas, you forgot about the ocean being nonexistent.  

I always prefer smaller venues because the performers seem to take a more personable approach with the audience.  A warm feeling of intimacy creeps at your heart, and the bands appear to hold more comfort with their words and actions.  The interaction between the band and audience always appears to be absent in a stadium type venue.  Festival Pier allows the music loving beings to be overwhelmed with peace and cordiality.  

This positive vibes in the environment only add to the grooving melody pouring out of the speakers.  The Dirty Heads rocked the stage, just as they did the last time I attended their concert.  The band mates really seem to enjoy what they have chosen to do with their lives.  Emotion drips out of their lyrics while they frolic on stage to their own beat.  It takes a special kind of sad soul to not enjoy yourself while a dynamic band performs in a wondrous concert venue.  

GOODFELLAS

1990

DIRECTOR:  MARTIN SCORSESE

WRITERS:  NICHOLAS PILEGGI (BOOK "WISEGUY" AND SCREENPLAY) AND MARTIN SCORSESE (SCREENPLAY)

STARRING:  RAY LIOTTA, ROBERT DE NIRO, JOE PESCI, PAUL SORVINO, AND LORRAINE BRACCO

I finally convinced my girlfriend to watch Goodfellas.  i am jealous.  I wish I can eliminate amazing movies from my memory just so I can watch them for the first time all over again.  To ponder to myself, who the fuck is that guy in the trunk and what did he do to those three guys to make them want to stab him to a bloody pulp before shooting him, all over again.  

There's no other fictional character I would rather be than Henry Hill.  I feel this movie has the same effect on everyone who genuinely enjoys it.  It makes you fantasize about what it would be like leaving your real life to become a mobster or a mob wife or anything else as long as you're connected in some way.  The image of life consisting of a constant cash flow and respect in return for flexing your muscles every so often seems exciting, yet completely folkloric.  Deep down inside, the viewer has sniff at least a little bit of bullshit.  I cannot confirm nor deny if the mobster image and lifestyle is accurate, but what I can disclose and raise red flags on is the real life man, Henry Hill.  

I used to think the real Henry Hill was the tenacious and charismatic wise guy I idolized from the film.  That was until I read the book "On the Run" which is written by Hill's children, Gina and Gregg.  The book exposes and shatters Hill's whole persona.  Gina and Gregg's memory of events strays far from their father's version of his mobster life.  Apparently, Henry Hill is a much better story teller than he is a father.  

Only few people know the absolute truth of what went on behind closed doors at the Hill's residencies, but I cannot deny wondering what his kids were doing while he was playing cards throughout the night.  While Henry Hill was cleaning enemy blood off the floor, who was getting his kids ready for school the next day?  Every minute Hill was with his girlfriends, mafioso friends, and behind bars is another minute he was not at home achieving in daddy duties.  Instead, Gina and Gregg recall countless memories of Henry Hill failing at parenting.  

One event that stands out in my mind from the book is when the two describe jolting awake in the middle of the night while Hill ripped the mirror off their bedroom wall so he and his party guests could snort cocaine off of it.  Gina and Gregg also illustrate how it felt bouncing from school to school while their family was in the witness protection program.  Their father couldn't cut his old habits loose and as a result, the kids would be forced to up and leave their school, friends, and entire life in a short heart beat again and again.  Every sentimental scene from the movie was actually a mentally damaging hardship for Henry Hill's kids.  

Goodfellas was, is, and always will be one of my favorite films of all time.  It's brilliant how cinema can fool your mind and manipulate you to think whatever it is that they want you to think.  It's like giving people's brains a two hour vacation.  It is responsible for my extreme love for movies, writing, and filmmaking.