students’ parents, stating that there had been a double homicide that was being investigated by local police, and that there were several rumors about other incidents that the principal, in her position to know, knew were only rumors and had no basis in fact.
She sent her employees a checklist of safety reminders. Number one set the terse tone:
1. Lock all exterior doors to your school and position someone at the front door to monitor entrance into the building.
The list said children should not go outside for the remainder of the day, and promised that when school was over, security would check the entire building before leaving for the night.
She asked all parents to do their part in dealing with these nervous times—to take every precaution to keep their children safe, yes, but also to help their children feel more secure, and to reduce anxiety rather than fuel rumors.
ARREST
Dana Putnam was still in a pretty good mood regarding the weekend’s turn of events on Tuesday morning, when the phone rang. It was her mother with sobering information.
Mom said she’d just read an article in the morning paper. The article was on page 5B, and Dana should look at it right away. It was about a man named Stephen Stanko who had murdered two and severely injured a third, a teenage girl whom he’d also raped.
The Feds got involved because he committed his crimes in South Carolina and had perhaps fled the state. The Feds had a $10,000 reward out for the guy.
The article said the guy was a braggart who loved to talk about being an ex-con and how it had turned him into an advocate for prison reform. Dana felt the hair on her arms stand on end. Her mother continued.
In the newspaper article, the police were candid about their lack of information. They didn’t have a clue where he was headed. In the article, Horry County police lieutenant Andy Christenson said, “He could be anywhere in the United States.”
That meant he sure as hell could be in Augusta, Georgia, Dana’s mom thought.
In the paper, Lieutenant Christenson noted that Stanko had relatives in Fayetteville, North Carolina, but there was no indication that he was heading there. Those relatives had been contacted and had no knowledge of his whereabouts.
Wherever he was, the cop added, he was very dangerous. The article discussed the fact that Stanko had done eight-plus years in prison, and that he really did author a published book.
The report revealed Stanko’s recent work record, which was less than stellar. He didn’t seem to have the attention span to hold down a steady job. He was driving a stolen pickup truck, and they gave the year and make.
But the clincher was the photo that accompanied the article. “That’s your Stephen Christopher,” Dana’s mom said.
Dana didn’t argue. The weekend had been too good to be true, so it only made sense that it wasn’t. She took a deep breath and drove to the Richmond County Sheriff’s Office (RCSO), where she told Sheriff Ronnie Strength her story.
Police tapped her cell phone so they could monitor Stanko’s calls. Within hours, Putnam received a call from Stanko asking if he could spend the night on her couch again.
“Hey, gorgeous,” Stanko said. “Let me ask you something: How the heck do I get you off my mind? I miss you. It’s almost a physical missing you.”
As she set up a date with him, police electronics experts were busy using the signal from Stanko’s cell phone to determine his location. They discovered he was in a West Augusta restaurant.
A police drive-by read the plate number and verified that the stolen Mazda was parked outside the restaurant, which was part of a large shopping mall.
By the time Stanko left the restaurant and walked to the truck, law enforcement was there in force and ready for him.
At three o’clock on Tuesday afternoon, Stephen Stanko had entered a mall restaurant called the Atlanta Bread Company. He sat at a small wooden table near the front of the shop and
She sent her employees a checklist of safety reminders. Number one set the terse tone:
1. Lock all exterior doors to your school and position someone at the front door to monitor entrance into the building.
The list said children should not go outside for the remainder of the day, and promised that when school was over, security would check the entire building before leaving for the night.
She asked all parents to do their part in dealing with these nervous times—to take every precaution to keep their children safe, yes, but also to help their children feel more secure, and to reduce anxiety rather than fuel rumors.
ARREST
Dana Putnam was still in a pretty good mood regarding the weekend’s turn of events on Tuesday morning, when the phone rang. It was her mother with sobering information.
Mom said she’d just read an article in the morning paper. The article was on page 5B, and Dana should look at it right away. It was about a man named Stephen Stanko who had murdered two and severely injured a third, a teenage girl whom he’d also raped.
The Feds got involved because he committed his crimes in South Carolina and had perhaps fled the state. The Feds had a $10,000 reward out for the guy.
The article said the guy was a braggart who loved to talk about being an ex-con and how it had turned him into an advocate for prison reform. Dana felt the hair on her arms stand on end. Her mother continued.
In the newspaper article, the police were candid about their lack of information. They didn’t have a clue where he was headed. In the article, Horry County police lieutenant Andy Christenson said, “He could be anywhere in the United States.”
That meant he sure as hell could be in Augusta, Georgia, Dana’s mom thought.
In the paper, Lieutenant Christenson noted that Stanko had relatives in Fayetteville, North Carolina, but there was no indication that he was heading there. Those relatives had been contacted and had no knowledge of his whereabouts.
Wherever he was, the cop added, he was very dangerous. The article discussed the fact that Stanko had done eight-plus years in prison, and that he really did author a published book.
The report revealed Stanko’s recent work record, which was less than stellar. He didn’t seem to have the attention span to hold down a steady job. He was driving a stolen pickup truck, and they gave the year and make.
But the clincher was the photo that accompanied the article. “That’s your Stephen Christopher,” Dana’s mom said.
Dana didn’t argue. The weekend had been too good to be true, so it only made sense that it wasn’t. She took a deep breath and drove to the Richmond County Sheriff’s Office (RCSO), where she told Sheriff Ronnie Strength her story.
Police tapped her cell phone so they could monitor Stanko’s calls. Within hours, Putnam received a call from Stanko asking if he could spend the night on her couch again.
“Hey, gorgeous,” Stanko said. “Let me ask you something: How the heck do I get you off my mind? I miss you. It’s almost a physical missing you.”
As she set up a date with him, police electronics experts were busy using the signal from Stanko’s cell phone to determine his location. They discovered he was in a West Augusta restaurant.
A police drive-by read the plate number and verified that the stolen Mazda was parked outside the restaurant, which was part of a large shopping mall.
By the time Stanko left the restaurant and walked to the truck, law enforcement was there in force and ready for him.
At three o’clock on Tuesday afternoon, Stephen Stanko had entered a mall restaurant called the Atlanta Bread Company. He sat at a small wooden table near the front of the shop and
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