The Man Who Killed Boys Read Online Free PDF

the state capital of Des Moines, it is the governmental seat of Black Hawk County, a mere seven miles from Cedar Falls, the home of the University of Northern Iowa.
    The people of Black Hawk County are midwestern friendly, helpful to newcomers, and hard workers. Like other Americans, they are good customers for the people who make it their business to sell fast food, such as Colonel Sanders' Kentucky Fried Chicken.
    Being married to the boss's daughter may have helped Gacy obtain his job with the fried-chicken outlets in Waterloo and Cedar Falls, but it didn't mean that he would step immediately into a management position that would permit him to loaf while others did the work. He began learning the business from the ground up, sweeping floors, cleaning machinery, and cooking and packaging the fried chicken. The young man became an efficient manager, working on salary and commission. Twelve-to fourteen-hour days were not uncommon for him. Yet he still found time to join the Jaycees again, and quickly plunged headlong into club activities.
    His fellow Jaycees in Waterloo, like those in Springfield, were impressed by his enthusiasm and tireless energy. The new Waterloo Jaycee sent buckets of fried chicken to the local boys' club. He built sandboxes to raise money for the Jaycees. He was one of the first to volunteer to shop for Christmas presents for underprivileged children. And he hosted big parties at home for his Jaycee friends.
    Spending as much time with the club as he did, most of his close friendships were formed from among its members. Gacy didn't believe in waiting months to gradually insinuate himself into the confidence and companionship of others. He attacked head-on, with florid compliments, gifts, and invitations to parties. In the Jaycees, where work went hand in hand with recognition and where almost everyone could win an award of some kind, he glowed. He reveled in the comradeship and excitement the club brought to him.
    "He was always working on some project and he was devoted to the Jaycees. The club was his whole life," fellow Jaycee Charlie Hill later recalled. "He wanted to be very successful and he wanted to be recognized by his peers. But that never bothered me. We all wanted to be successful."
    Steve Pottinger was to remember his onetime fellow Jaycee as having "a hell of a big man complex." 4 Even in a community as friendly as Waterloo, the obsession turned some of his associates against him. But those Jaycees who didn't particularly like Gacy respected him, Pottinger insisted. "John worked his brains out, working for his father-in-law at those chicken places from early in the morning until ten or eleven at night," he said. 5
    Another Jaycee, attorney Peter Burk, considered Gacy's obsession with braggadocio and lying to be disturbing. It irritated him when Gacy bragged of having been influential politically or of having been appointed to important committees by the governor of Illinois. It was obvious that many, perhaps most of the stories told by the fried-chicken entrepreneur were lies.
    Most upsetting of all to Gacy's comrades in the Jaycees was the fact that it didn't appear to bother him when he was caught in a lie. He just manufactured another. Even his wife Marlynn had realized that her husband constantly stretched the truth.
    Nevertheless, Gacy continued to do his best to ingratiate himself with almost everyone he met. When Jaycees were working into the night on a project, he frequently nudged open a door with his knee at ten or eleven o'clock, announced that "Colonel John Gacy" was there, and walked in with his arms loaded with fried chicken. As the others dug into the chicken, Gacy dug into the work, even though he may have already put in nearly two normal workdays. Most of the young men appreciated the late-night snacks, but others were suspicious of his continuous attempts to buy friends.
    They also bristled at the price they had to pay—listening to his stories of the years he had spent