Gitchie Girl: The Survivor's Inside Story of the Mass Murders that Shocked the Heartland by Phil Hamman & Sandy Hamman Page B
Authors: Phil Hamman & Sandy Hamman
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“You rest now. I’ve got your mother on the way.”
Sandra gratefully laid her head onto her folded arms, not even aware she’d dozed until her mother’s soft touch startled her awake. Lolo grabbed her daughter in a tight embrace and stroked her hair that was now matted with the grime of dirt paths and lost innocence.
“Ma’am, your daughter provided excellent information. We hope it will prove very useful in catching the murderers,” Vinson said reassuringly.
Sandra looked into her mother’s eyes and whispered, “Murderers?”
Is that what homicide meant? Breathless, she sat wondering if it could really be true. Were Roger and the other boys really dead? How could this be happening?
But moments later, reality set in and Sandra collapsed onto the floor and broke into fitful, choking sobs. Lolo enveloped her daughter with loving arms and tried to absorb her pain, but it was no use. For Sandra, her anguish had reached its climax and exploded, sending her into hysterics.
As Lolo and Vinson discussed the agenda for the investigation, Sandra clung to her mother, shuddering. She wasn’t sure what they were talking about because even though she heard their words, the meaning just bounced off her brain. Somehow they managed to transport her into a car, and then she was vaguely aware of being ushered into a sterile white room with an unsettling bright light overhead. Lolo was immediately removed from Sandra’s side and a stream of strangers, men in white medical coats, filed into the room, making notes on their clipboards and spewing out more words she didn’t understand about pelvic examinations and speculums. Although she was now clothed in a thin gown, it felt as if her body was being violated again, this time by the group of men wearing medical masks . She held her breath and tried to block out what was happening “down there” by thinking of words to her favorite song, praying to God for this to end, and counting down the seconds until she could run to Lolo’s arms again. Then, as if a biting wind had finally passed through, the men were suddenly not there anymore. The last one wordlessly left the room and shut the door with a soft click. An officer she didn’t recognize drove her and Lolo back to the police station. Surely, Sandra thought, the worst was over.
While Sandra wept with a fervor brought on by a combination of lost love, trauma, and violation, the policemen in the next room determined their next move. At the top of the list was finding a safe place for Sandra and her family. Three killers were presumably at large, and they knew where she lived. The possibility had been raised that perhaps Sandra knew the killers, and this needed to be taken into consideration. A love triangle? Would she try to run? It was Sunday evening, and their choices were limited. It was ultimately decided that she would spend the night at the juvenile detention center for her own safety, as it was put. Tomorrow, the department would find a safe house for the whole family.
That night, on a thin, institutional-grade mattress, Sandra eventually fell into a restless sleep only to awake screaming. All alone, she was once again separated from the person who held the power to comfort her. Lolo, who was staying at the home of a friend along with the rest of the family, longed to take away her beautiful daughter’s pain and yearned for time to heal her. Neither could have known that the worst was not over. There was taxing work ahead for Sandra. Although exhausted, she made the commitment to compose herself for the sake of the boys who were now, as she’d been reminded several times that night, in a better place.
The house was dark and still when Vinson arrived home many hours later. He turned on a small lamp and saw someone had left him a note on the table.
Terrible game! You didn’t miss much. Bears scored in the first quarter, and then it was a washout. Bears: 7, Lions: 30
Had that been just this afternoon? Any importance
Sandra gratefully laid her head onto her folded arms, not even aware she’d dozed until her mother’s soft touch startled her awake. Lolo grabbed her daughter in a tight embrace and stroked her hair that was now matted with the grime of dirt paths and lost innocence.
“Ma’am, your daughter provided excellent information. We hope it will prove very useful in catching the murderers,” Vinson said reassuringly.
Sandra looked into her mother’s eyes and whispered, “Murderers?”
Is that what homicide meant? Breathless, she sat wondering if it could really be true. Were Roger and the other boys really dead? How could this be happening?
But moments later, reality set in and Sandra collapsed onto the floor and broke into fitful, choking sobs. Lolo enveloped her daughter with loving arms and tried to absorb her pain, but it was no use. For Sandra, her anguish had reached its climax and exploded, sending her into hysterics.
As Lolo and Vinson discussed the agenda for the investigation, Sandra clung to her mother, shuddering. She wasn’t sure what they were talking about because even though she heard their words, the meaning just bounced off her brain. Somehow they managed to transport her into a car, and then she was vaguely aware of being ushered into a sterile white room with an unsettling bright light overhead. Lolo was immediately removed from Sandra’s side and a stream of strangers, men in white medical coats, filed into the room, making notes on their clipboards and spewing out more words she didn’t understand about pelvic examinations and speculums. Although she was now clothed in a thin gown, it felt as if her body was being violated again, this time by the group of men wearing medical masks . She held her breath and tried to block out what was happening “down there” by thinking of words to her favorite song, praying to God for this to end, and counting down the seconds until she could run to Lolo’s arms again. Then, as if a biting wind had finally passed through, the men were suddenly not there anymore. The last one wordlessly left the room and shut the door with a soft click. An officer she didn’t recognize drove her and Lolo back to the police station. Surely, Sandra thought, the worst was over.
While Sandra wept with a fervor brought on by a combination of lost love, trauma, and violation, the policemen in the next room determined their next move. At the top of the list was finding a safe place for Sandra and her family. Three killers were presumably at large, and they knew where she lived. The possibility had been raised that perhaps Sandra knew the killers, and this needed to be taken into consideration. A love triangle? Would she try to run? It was Sunday evening, and their choices were limited. It was ultimately decided that she would spend the night at the juvenile detention center for her own safety, as it was put. Tomorrow, the department would find a safe house for the whole family.
That night, on a thin, institutional-grade mattress, Sandra eventually fell into a restless sleep only to awake screaming. All alone, she was once again separated from the person who held the power to comfort her. Lolo, who was staying at the home of a friend along with the rest of the family, longed to take away her beautiful daughter’s pain and yearned for time to heal her. Neither could have known that the worst was not over. There was taxing work ahead for Sandra. Although exhausted, she made the commitment to compose herself for the sake of the boys who were now, as she’d been reminded several times that night, in a better place.
The house was dark and still when Vinson arrived home many hours later. He turned on a small lamp and saw someone had left him a note on the table.
Terrible game! You didn’t miss much. Bears scored in the first quarter, and then it was a washout. Bears: 7, Lions: 30
Had that been just this afternoon? Any importance
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