Serial Killer's Soul (18 page)

Don’t be fooled by those who try to excuse these sins, for the terrible wrath of God is upon all those who do them. Don’t even associate with such people. For though once your heart was full of darkness, now it is full of light from the Lord, and your behavior should show it! Because of this light within you, you should do only what is good and right and true. (Ephesians 5:6-9
, TLB)

Tuesday, March 10, 1992.

Three things kept my mind occupied during the days in Unit 2. I thought maybe God had placed me in that cell because he knew I was a relatively new Christian and, therefore, was as far as introducing him to the power of God and all the excited about my faith. I wondered if I was doing enough with Jeff as far as introducing him to the power of God and all the goodness that awaited him if he would only believe that Jesus was his Lord and Savior.

My hearing also occupied my thoughts. I worried a lot, especially about what would happen if I was found guilty.

The third thing I thought about was leaving the desegregation unit, getting back with the general prison population where I would have more freedom; where I would be able to continue my classes, attend chapel services and Bible study, go to the gym, library; and where I could talk to the friends I’d made in prison. I hated being cooped up in one cell all day and all night but on the other side of the story, I would be away from Jeff. My thoughts contradicted themselves. I wanted to be out of this timeless unit but I also felt I had a responsibility to keep talking to Jeff about God.

It felt like each day in Unit 2 lasted more like three days. The boredom was broken a little on that day when I received a memo in the morning mail.

This is in response to your correspondence to Mr. Davidson dated 030692. You will remain in TLU status pending the outcome of your hearing. An investigation will not be ordered at this time unless determined necessary by the hearing committee.

I was hoping officials would do an investigation before the next day’s hearing so there would be proof that I hadn’t hidden that razor blade, but deep down I knew they wouldn’t. I couldn’t eat that night because I was so nervous.

Luckily, the other inmates on our tier were quiet for once and didn’t start with their usual Dahmer bashing. I was glad. It gave me more time to think about my immediate future.

After the 9 p.m. standing count, I thought that no matter what happened the next day, I probably wouldn’t be in Unit 2 any longer. If found guilty, I’d be doing adjustment time on Unit 1. If found not guilty, I’d leave Unit 2 and return to a different cell in another unit, possibly my former cell. I knew this night could be my last chance to talk to Dahmer.

Even though I wasn’t feeling good and my mind was heavily preoccupied, I decided to ask him more questions. I also had a few more Bible quotes I wanted him to read. I went over and pulled myself up onto my sink. I balanced myself and tapped the wall.

“Hey, Jeff, tell me what you think, honestly. Do you think you’ll go to heaven after all you’ve done?” I hoped Jeff felt differently today. It was a new day and every day was a new beginning with new opportunities to make life better.

Dahmer, without much hesitation, answered, “I know what I said the other night, about going to hell. And I thought about it and I wondered, ‘why would I not go to heaven?’ Yes. Basically, I believe what I did was right. Somebody has
to rid the earth of scum. Why would I be punished for that? If I am punished, it’ll be by making me continue to live on this earth, knowing that scum like that are still walking around freely, contaminating this planet and its people. That’s torture right there, having to stay on this earth.”

I was stunned and frustrated; sometimes it felt like Jeff would take one step forward but then take
ten
steps back. Just the other day he said he was probably going to hell and hinted that he realized what he had done was wrong. He must be angry or bitter today.

I honestly believed that deep inside his troubled soul, he was sorry for his crimes, but for some reason he felt he had to randomly shock me with his weird theories and racial slurs. I’d read in the newspaper about what Dahmer had told the judge the day he was sentenced. He had said then that he wanted to take back the awful things that he did. He even apologized to the families and said he was sorry for all the pain he had caused them.

Why was he being so hateful about his victims now? He couldn’t seem to make up his mind about how he felt about things, or what he wanted to tell people. He seemed so confused.

Almost every night we had a conversation and it was usually the same routine. Maybe it was because Jeff had figured out that I was a black man and he knew mostly black men in the other cells ridiculed, threatened, and joked about him. Perhaps talking to me like that was his way of getting back at those men who hated him.

At any rate, because I felt that Satan himself still tormented Jeff, I wanted him to read more scripture that warned us about Satan and how he tried to control the world and each of us who are tempted to do evil.

I sat on my bed and paged through my Bible, looking for the verses I had in mind. Finally, I had a list to read to Jeff.

“Jeff, write these verses down and read them tonight: II Corinthians 2:10-11, John 6:37 and 40, Romans 8:35-39, and II Thessalonians 3:3.

“Yeah, OK. I’ll read ‘em.” I could hear Jeff scribbling down the verses and the two of us were quiet for some time. All I could hope was that he was in that cell, behind that concrete block wall, reading the verses with an open mind.

When you forgive anyone, I do too. And whatever I have forgiven (to the extent that this affected me too) has been by Christ’s authority, and for your good. A further reason for forgiveness is to keep from being outsmarted by Satan; for we know what he is trying to do. (II Corinthians 2:10-11,
TLB
)

But some will come to me–those the Father has given me–and I will never, never reject them.

For it is my Father’s will that everyone who sees his Son and believes in him should have eternal life–that I should raise him at the Last Day. (John 6: 37 and 40,
TLB
)

Who then can ever keep Christ’s love from us? When we have trouble or calamity, when we are hunted down or destroyed, is it because he doesn’t love us anymore? And if we are hungry, or penniless, or in danger, or threatened with death, has God deserted us? No, for the Scriptures tell us that for his sake we must be ready to face death at every moment of the day–we are like sheep awaiting slaughter; but despite all this, overwhelming victory is ours through Christ who loved us enough to die for us.

For I am convinced that nothing can ever separate us from his love. Death can’t, and life can’t. The angels won’t, and all the powers of hell itself cannot keep God’s love away. Our fears for today, our worries about tomorrow, or where we are–high above the sky, or in the deepest ocean–nothing will ever be able to separate us from the love of God demonstrated by our Lord Jesus Christ when he died for us. (Romans 8:35-39,
TLB
)

But the Lord is faithful; he will make you strong and guard you from satanic attacks of every kind. (II Thessalonians 3:3,
TLB
)

I especially wanted Jeff to read and study the verses from Romans because they offered hope to every sinner in the world. I wanted Jeff to know that the power of God’s forgiveness was limitless. I wanted him to find peace in
the power of God’s ultimate love. Nobody could love anyone greater than God. I believed that and I wanted Jeff to feel God’s unconditional love. I wanted him to reach out and touch the hand of God and to become one of his children.

Stand steady, and don’t be afraid of suffering for the Lord. Bring others to Christ. Leave nothing undone that you ought to do. I say this because I won’t be around to help you very much longer. My time has almost run out. (II Timothy 4:5-6
, TLB)

Wednesday, March 11, 1992.

After breakfast and shaving, we could go outside for recreation for twenty minutes. As usual, neither Jeff nor I attended recreation. I’m not sure why Jeff never wanted to go outside, but on that day, I was too nervous about that afternoon’s conduct hearing.

I told Jeff about my hearing. We talked about what I could get as far as additional time if I was found guilty. He wished me luck and said he hoped everything came out OK.

Jeff’s usual bags of mail arrived and, just as they had done every day, security spent hours sorting the letters on large tables down the hall.

Around 1:30 p.m., two officers came to get me for my hearing. They shackled my feet, cuffed my hands, and escorted me to the hearing room in Desegregation Unit 1. The room looked just like a small courtroom.

The two officers stood guard during the proceedings. Also present were the captain, unit manager, the officer who found the razor blade in my cell, and the social worker who was my math teacher and character witness.

I sat down, shaking because I was so nervous. I lowered my head and prayed silently to myself.
Please, Lord, be with all of us today, and let the truth come out. I have faith that the truth will set me free. Praise you, God. Amen.

After the officials read the charges against me I told my side of the story.

“I use Magic Shaving cream,” I said, “and I buy thirteen-cent disposable
razors at the canteen. I don’t even use that brand of blade. I didn’t know the razor blade was in the window.

“I haven’t had any problems with security since I came here. I haven’t had many conduct reports in my whole life.”

I didn’t want to sound desperate or scattered, but my words spilled out faster than I could control them. I was innocent.

“Besides,” I continued, “the warden told us he would be doing searches. Because I didn’t have anything to hide, I didn’t even worry about it. I didn’t even bother to clean my cell because I wasn’t worried about the searches. I don’t have any enemies here, so why would I even want a blade like that?”

I received a copy of the “Record of Witness Testimony” report, signed by one of my teachers, Bruce Tulpa. Mr. Tulpa wrote, “I have no personal knowledge of the conduct report. Calvin is an excellent student. Above expectations. No problems with other inmates or in class.”

Also on that same sheet was Officer Hoffman’s report about finding the razor blade. He wrote, “The item was a razor blade removed from a razor. Had tape across the back side of the razor–fully left the razor’s edge exposed. Found in upper right-hand corner of the screen, partially stuck in the sealer of the screen. A person could have gotten the razor out with a paper clip. Nothing else was found of any type from that razor.”

I felt sick and nervous but tried to focus on remaining calm. I prayed again.

Committee members discussed the evidence and my testimony, and then voted “not guilty” on all three charges. On the written report titled, “Disciplinary Hearing: Reasons for Decision and Evidence Relied On,” dated March 11, 1992, which security gave me later that day, it simply said, “Charges do not substantiate a finding of guilt. Dismissed.”

I was so happy; I let out a huge sigh of relief. God answered my prayers.

The relief I felt was incredible. I thought about that poem,
Footprints in the Sand
, where the man learns that in the times of greatest stress and hardship, instead of walking beside him, God actually carried him in his arms. I felt that was
exactly what happened to me. All I could say when it was finished was, “Thank you, Jesus. Thank you. Praise God. Thank you, Jesus.” I said it over and over as officers escorted me back to my cell.

I returned to gather my things. Finally, I could leave the restricted area.

While I was packing, I told Jeff that things had gone well for me, that all the charges were dropped, and that I was being moved to a different unit.

“Praise God,” Jeff said. “I’m happy for you, man.”

I added a few “praise God’s” of my own and, as I gathered up my things, I told Jeff that I’d keep writing letters to him. I couldn’t resist asking him a few more questions before I left.

“Tell me, Jeff, did you honestly have sex with those men and boys after they died?”

“Yes.”

“What drove you to do that?”

“Desire, I guess.”

“How many did you have sex with?”

“Roughly most.”

I shook my head, still finding it hard to believe that this man I had befriended in the cell next to me had committed such monstrous crimes.

“Well, Jeff, take care of yourself. And don’t forget to read your Bible every day. I hope you read all those verses I gave you. I’ll be writing you from wherever they send me. So long.”

“Yeah, Calvin. You take care.”

I had mixed feelings about leaving Jeff. I was extremely happy to be out of the desegregation unit and on my way to better things. At the same time, I felt sad for Jeff and, in a way, I was going to miss him. I prayed that he would keep God in his heart and do what he could to make the best of his future. I hoped he would let go of his demons and try to live in a new light.

I knew I had done all I could to help Jeff. I could only hope that Jeff used the tools I gave him to help himself. It was up to him now, but I would continue to write and offer encouragement.

Around 3 p.m., I arrived back at my old cell, Cell 35 in Unit 2. My buddies were glad to see me and I was glad to see them. It felt good to be back where things were somewhat normal.

“Hey, Calvin, you look like you lost weight,” one of my friends said.

“I did,” I said, thinking about the gruesome stories Dahmer told me that killed my appetite.

“Calvin, man, you only been gone a few weeks. You couldn’t eat?” I knew they were curious about what happened to me while I was away.