The Dark Origins of Son of Sam: The Life of David Berkowitz, Study notes of History

Download The Dark Origins of Son of Sam: The Life of David Berkowitz and more Study notes History in PDF only on Docsity! Cold Open: David Richard Berkowitz aka Richard David Falco. The man who would grow up to become known to the public first as the .44 Caliber Killer and then as the now infamous Son of Sam.  
 
 The Son of Sam was an American serial killer who terrorized New York City for almost exactly a year. He killed from the end of July, 1976 until the end of July, 1977. 
 
 He may have tried to kill a year-and-a-half earlier, when he says he was driven to stab two young women on Christmas eve, 1975. 
 
 In the end, Berkowitz killed six and wounded seven - nine, if you count those 1975 stabbing victims - and he terrified millions. 
 
 Why?
 
 Why did he do all this? 
 
 Did he think - as many believe he thought, as he himself has claimed off- an-on to have thought - that literal demons were ordering him to kill? Did he think that those demons were communicating to him through the barking of neighborhood dogs, and that the only way to quiet and appease those dog demons - the only way to keep Satan himself from unleashing great and cataclysmic events upon the world - was to murder young women? Did he think that one of these Hell hounds belonged to a neighbor named Sam Carr? And did he think that Sam - the man behind his self-given Son of Sam moniker - was possessed by the most powerful demon of them all - possibly by Satan himself? And that Sam and another man and a bunch of a dogs - all demons - wanted him to kill? 
 
 OR - was it a whole Helluva lot simpler than that? 
 
 Did David Berkowitz kill because he was a murderous coward angry and resentful towards his biological mother who abandoned him? Was he angry about his many failures with women? Did he kill women because he hated them because they wanted nothing to do with him - or at least that was what he perceived - and found killing them to be sexually arousing? Did he invent that whole Satanic, talking dogs story he wrote about in taunting letters to the press or letters left behind for police to find at crime scenes, so he could plead insanity if he was ever caught? Did he do all this because he was a deranged psychopath and it just simply amused him to terrorize the general public? Did he just wanted to feel powerful? Wanted to be a big, bad Satanic boogeyman who could kill you, or your mother, or your sister, or your daughter whenever he wanted to - and with impunity. 
 
 Or was the Son of Sam, as some NYC former detectives continue to believe to this day, a real theistic Satanist who was part of a larger Satanic cabal - a pawn who took the blame for the killings he was charged with - killings that were actually carried out by a large, secret, Satanic organization responsible for many more than just six deaths? 
 
 Yup. There is a LOT to unpack in today’s true crime tale! 
 
 And I’m gonna do my best to give you all the details that I can, in today’s serial killer, Fear City edition, of Timesuck. PAUSE TIMESUCK INTRO I.Welcome! 
 A.Happy Monday: Work can wait, Hogfolk and Dogfolk - it’s time for Timesuck! I’m Dan Cummins - cult of the curious Captain, the banana peel seducer, the Master Sucker, the mush mouth MOTHER fucker. 
 
 Happy Monday. Hope you’re set up to have a Happy Thanksgiving! 
 
 Hail Nimrod. Be gone Lucifina. Praise Bojangles, and Triple M is hitting the road with Doobie Brothers next summer for their 50th reunion tour and I will Yah Mo Be THERE! Whoa, whoa, whoa - getting TICKETS!
 B.LEESA PRE-ROLL: Today’s Timesuck is brought to you once again by mattress champions and social stewards - Leesa! 
 
 Leesa is on a mission to give your body the rest it needs, with two awesome mattresses plus accessories and bases for a better place to sleep 
 
 Leesa believes in providing a better night’s sleep for every body, and authenticity. 
 
 ALSO - we have “I hope your day sucks” red and green limited edition holiday 16 ounce coffee mugs. Put some suck in your stocking this holiday season. ’Tis the Season to Suck! A little holiday cheer for the Cult of the Curious. 
 I.Segue to Topic: And now… (Albert Fish) SHOWBIZ! That is how they do it in Hollywood! 
 
 Oh. My. Heck. It’s true-crime Time Suck time. Set your watches to Son of Sam o’clock! 
 PAUSE
 TIMESUCK INTERLUDE
 
 We got a wild one this week! Yip, yip, yaw! 
 
 Today, at age sixty-six, the man who once terrorized New York City - the infamous Son of Sam now prefers to be called the “Son of Hope.” He’s found religion in prison, as so many seem to do. And it feels very convenient to me almost every damn time. 
 
 David Berkowitz runs an evangelical Christian website - ariseandshine.org from the Sha-wan- gunk or SHON gum Correctional Facility - one of those super fun regional names even locals can’t seem to agree how to say. So save your Sha-wan- gunk pronunciation emails. 
 
 This prison is located just outside the little hamlet of Wallkill [wall kill], New York, known as the home of the original Borden Farm that spawned the now Texas-based giant dairy corporation - Borden Dairy Company and their iconic Elsie the Cow logo. Love random trivia like that. 
 
 https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Sullivan_Correctional_Facility
 https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Wallkill,_Ulster_County,_New_York
 
 The prison lies just eighty short miles from the New York City streets Berkowitz used to prowl in the mid-70s to find his victims. 
 
 According to David’s own website, in 1975, when he was twenty-two and fresh back in New York after serving in the army in South Korea, 
 
 “I met some guys at a party who were, I later found out, heavily involved in the occult. I had always been fascinated with witchcraft, satanism, and occult things since I was a child. When I was growing up I watched countless horror and satanic movies, one of which was Rosemary’s Baby. That movie in particular totally captivated my mind.
 
 Now I was age 22 and this evil force was still reaching out to me.
 
 Everywhere I went there seemed to be a sign or a symbol pointing me to Satan. I felt as if something were trying to take control of my life. I began to read the Satanic Bible by the late Anton LaVey who founded the Church of Satan in San Francisco in 1966. I began, innocently, to practice various occult rituals and incantations.
 
 “I began falling under the dark, hypnotic spell of Satan’s harp - the calliope…
 
 PLAY Caliope https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=2XRXT8xZ62s 
 
 “Huh, huh, huh! Hiya, David! I mean SON OF SAM! Hey buddy - I’m gonna need you to grab a gun and bang bang your way around the clown town! Satan wants to turn this cess pool into a death Circus good buddy! Really bring the crowd to their KNEEEESS! You’re gonna be the ringleader! Fuck ‘em all, David! Fuck ‘em all! Huh huh huh!” 
 
 
 Okay. He didn’t write the stuff about the calliope. He wrote the following: 
 
 “I am utterly convinced that something satanic had entered into my mind and that, looking back at all that happened, I realize that I had been slowly deceived. I did not know that bad things were going to result from all this. Yet over the months the things that were wicked no longer seemed to be such. I was headed down the road to destruction and I did not know it. Maybe I was at a point where I just didn’t care anymore.
 
 He didn’t choose to be a murderous piece of shit, you guys! No way, Jose! 
 
 He was just a super-duper good kid who got deceived by that naughty trickster, Satan. It’s all Satan’s fault. NOT David’s. He doesn’t have free will. No sir! Gosh dang! 
 
 He didn’t choose to hurt and kill innocent people. Just like last week’s Happy Face Killer Keith Jesperson, he’s an innocent victim! Bummer. Too bad those two dipshits can’t share a cell together and console each other day after the day for the tragedies that have befallen them. 
 
 Sadly, it seems that - over 40 years after they’ve happened - Berkowitz is still not ready to take full responsibility for his crimes. Seems as if he mostly blames the Devil. But he hasn’t ALWAYS blamed the Devil. Berkowitz has changed his story a number of times as we’ll examine in today’s timeline. 
 
 Before we look into the story of his wasted life in our timeline - let’s check in on the backdrop for his crimes - New York City in the mid-70s. I found the following information fascinating. Turns out the Big Apple was already a pretty scary place - already a little rotten - before David started killing. 
 
 https://www.cbsnews.com/news/serial-killer-david-berkowitz-aka-son-of- sam-tells-professor-i-was-once-an-evil-person-in-prison-conversation/
 II.Intro/Establish Premiss - 
 
 1976 was New York City’s “year of terror.” Not a good PR year. 
 
 Men and women were being shot just walking the streets and in parked vehicles across three boroughs. With fear lingering in the air, the summer turned to winter - the coldest winter on record at the time - and the winter turned to summer again, and the killings didn't stop. 
 
 On an average day, 1,798 serious crimes or felonies were committed, a rate of around 75 an hour. Crime was up over 13% from the previous year, and 1975 had already been a really bad year. 1976 was the worst year on record for crime in NYC - at least since the police had begun Certainly - the warnings tossed out in these Fear City pamphlets were exaggerations of how bad things were. 
 
 The streets of midtown Manhattan weren’t “nearly deserted” as the pamphlets claimed after six in the evening, and they were mostly safe to walk on. The city hadn’t, again as the pamphlets claimed, “had to close off the rear half of each [subway] train in the evening so that the passengers could huddle together and be better protected”. 
 
 There were still plenty of safe and secure neighborhoods outside Manhattan, and there was neither a spate of “spectacular” robberies nor numerous deadly fires in hotels.
 
 BUT - there was some frightening truth lurking beneath much of the pamphlet’s propaganda. Crime, and especially violent crime, as I stated, had been increasing rapidly for years. The number of murders in the city had more than doubled over the past decade, from 681 in 1965 to 1,690 in 1975. 
 
 There’s a reason Charles Bronson’s 1974 film Death Wish was set in Manhattan - a film about an architect who becomes a vigilante trying to clean up a crime-filled NYC after his wife is murdered and his daughter sexually assaulted during a home invasion. 
 
 The public perception of NYC for many people was the dark metropolis on display in movies like Death Wish. 
 
 Car thefts and assaults in NYC had more than doubled over the past decade. Rapes and burglaries had more than tripled. Robberies had gone up an astonishing tenfold.
 
 There was a pervasive sense that the social order was breaking down. To some, it felt like Batman’s Gotham City. 
 
 Trains were graffitied and dirty. The roads were full of potholes. City funds were being embezzled. Corruption in local government was the worst it had been in years. 
 
 https://www.americanheritage.com/corrupting-new-york-city
 
 Public restrooms were almost non-existent; they dangerous and disgusting when they were available at all. Men could often be seen just openly pissing in the gutter down side-streets. 
 
 Times Square’s venerable old theaters and spectacular movie palaces were being torn down for office buildings or were just vacant and slowly rotting away, or being turned into dingy porn theaters.
 
 Parts of the city were becoming welfare states thanks to a job shortage and increasing despondency and drug use. NYC had over a million welfare recipients by 1975, more than any other city in the US. 
 
 In the years since the WWII, the poor and the hopeful had flocked to the city just as they always had since its inception to build better lives for themselves. What they found, instead was a nightmare where good dreams die. 
 
 The city had lost a million manufacturing jobs since 1945; 500,000 of them since 1969.
 
 With less tourism, fewer jobs, more citizens on the public dole, budge cuts were inevitable. New York’s budget cuts fell heaviest on the city’s public workforce. In May 1975, Mayor Beame had announced severe reductions in salaries, pensions and working conditions, plus the layoff of 51,768 city workers – more than one-sixth of its employees.
 
 This cutback felt like an added insult to a long-existing injury to the city’s workers who had already been bearing the brunt of the social chaos over the past 10 years: workers in public hospitals had been dealing with hundreds of thousands of heroin junkies; subway workers had been using deteriorating, antique, crime-infested trains for years. The police had been engaging in almost open warfare with various street gangs. Firefighters were being, in many instances, bombarded with bricks and garbage, or even shot at, while they tried to keep the city from burning.
 
 In some neighborhoods, by 1975, it felt like things had deteriorated to a point of near-anarchy. It’s worth an image search on the web if you have time. Pictures of “Fear City” from the mid-70s. Garbage literally just burning in the street in places because no one was coming to pick it up. People sitting around and playing poker on a fold-out table set up in a burned-out building where a restaurant had just recently existed. 
 
 Police in riot gear clearly fearful of the citizens around them. It was ugly. 
 
 On June 30th, 1975, the city laid off an additional 15,000 workers, including thousands of cops and 1,600 firefighters – 20% of the city’s entire force. Some twenty-six fire companies were simply disbanded. By September, 45,000 workers had been laid off – and the unions reacted with rage. 
 
 Mass demonstrations ensued. 
 
 Ten thousand municipal workers demonstrated in front of First National City Bank. Cops held a mass demonstration around city hall, blocking traffic and letting the air out of motorists’ tires when they complained.
 
 Which is pretty hilarious to me. 
 
 (NYC Cop) “You don’t like sitting around waiting! Don’t like hearing us complain about not having jobs! You late for your JOB? Must be nice - to have a job. Good luck getting there with no air in your tires. Don’t like it? Call the police!! And go fuck yourself!” 
 
 Highway workers picketed on major roadways during rush hour. On one occasion, bridge workers cranked up three of the city’s drawbridges and simply walked away.
 
 Garbagemen staged a two-day wildcat strike that left 48,000 tons of trash to just stew out in the June heat. On the picket lines they yelled, “This isn’t Fear City, it’s Stink City!” 
 
 Nothing like the smell of hot garbage to create a city full of angst! On a hot day, a lot of New York City doesn’t smell good NOW. I’ve been there many times over the past fifteen years. I can only imagine how it smelled when sanitation workers weren’t working. 
 
 The city’s teachers staged a one-week strike at the start of the school year in September of 1975, after the city had laid off 7,000 teachers. They marched with signs that read, “Fear City, Stink City and now, Stupid City.”
 But c’mon - what healthy boy doesn’t worship the god of fire for at least a little while growing up? I definitely had some friends who enjoyed watching and contemplating the raw, destructive, immense power of flames. I MAY have enjoyed fire more than any of my friends. Maybe, just MAYBE I still go a little crazy with any charcoal bbq or campfire I get near and accidentally-on-purpose stoke that fire with WAY too much lighter fluid. 
 
 FIRE! It feels so ALIVE! 
 
 Lil’ Davie’s pyromania would develop into a much deeper love for the flame than I’ve ever had. 
 
 He would keep a fire journal that was found after his arrest. If we are to believe him, dude would set hundreds, if not up to 1,400 or even 1,500 fires. 
 
 These illegal acts never led to legal troubles or impacted his school records. Too bad. Maybe if he would’ve gotten into more trouble as a kid he could have turned his life around and gotten into a lot less trouble as an adult. I think that sometimes, getting into a lot of trouble as a kid can be the best thing to happen to someone. Fuck up when the stakes are low! 
 3.1954-1967: The Berkowitz family lived in a middle-class home in the Bronx where he would grow up. The couple loved and doted on their young son, yet he would nonetheless grow up feeling rejected and scorned, blaming much of these feelings on being adopted. 
 
 Wonder how he would’ve viewed the exact same childhood if no one ever told him he’d been adopted? Possibly radically differently. Ever known someone who is their own worst enemy? No matter what happens in their life, if it appears to be objectively positive, they still put a negative spin on it? We’ve probably all heard the cliché, “beauty is in the eye of the beholder.” Well, oftentimes, so is reality. 
 
 David’s adopted parents told him that his mother died in child-birth. He told interviewers that he blamed himself, and hated himself for killing his own mother. Nathan aka “Nat”, and Pearl Berkowitz claimed they were told by “experts” to tell the boy his mother died rather than the truth. David would also later claim that he became the monster he became in part because of being lied to about his birth mother. 
 
 Just like with Keith “Happy Face Killer” Jesperson last week, this guy loves to point the finger in every direction other than at himself when explaining why he did what he did. 
 
 When I was a kid, I shoplifted all the time between the age 15 and 17. Mostly when I lived for two years in Las Vegas. Down in Vegas, I also set a bunch of open brush fields on fire - fires that could’ve spread to apartment complexes and hurt people or worse. 
 
 Why did I do it? Because I wanted things I didn’t have enough money and I was selfish and I just took it. I set fires because I was angry and I wanted to watch the world burn because, again, I was selfish. No one else’s fault. I don’t remember being forced to steal or burn anything even one time. I’m guessing no one forced David either. 
 
 David claims he had a tough time in school as a kid because he was larger than most of the kids his age and not particularly attractive. 
 
 Although, a Mrs. Lillian Goldstein, who lived just below David, remembers that as a younger child “he was a strikingly good- looking boy—nice and tall with brown wavy hair. But he was hyperactive and his parents had a difficult time coping with him. The kids would complain he’d hit them without provocation.”
 
 Throughout his childhood David was reportedly both bullied and also a bully himself. Not that atypical. Like so many serial killers before him, he didn't have many friends and he was especially close to his mother. David’s parents were not social, extroverted people and Berkowitz followed in their path.
 
 But he certainly didn’t have a bleak childhood. 
 
 Nat and Pearl did their best for their boy and showered him with toys and attention. His favorites were a Carl Hubbell “Strike 3” mechanical baseball game and a Chinese-checkers game.
 
 Love those old mechanical games! The Carol Hubbell game was kind of like pinball. Your paddle was the bat, and the other player dropped in these little metal balls you swung at and then there were places in the field where, if your ball reached them, you were out, or you got a double, triple, etc. Fun if you have the time to play ‘em. Gets your face out of a screen. Something different than a board game. 
 
 Berkowitz liked baseball. He developed into a pretty decent first baseman. Playing baseball was his favorite and main outside activity.
 
 A childhood friend, Lenny Schwartz, would later say, “David was a great baseball player. He could field and throw. Being a big kid, he could really hit the ball.”
 
 Another acquaintance said, “David was a great baseball player, looked up to by the other kids.”
 
 So, he was a good ball player. That alone can really help make for a good childhood- having a consistent source of self-esteem like that. 
 
 He was also a dickhead. 
 
 Another neighborhood kid who went to high school with David, described him as a bully “who took the ball and wouldn’t give it back.”
 
 David was troubled enough growing up that he was put in a child Vietnam conflict, most young men were NOT interested in the military. It wasn’t seen as noble, or brave, or cool to most of the youth out of time. This made antisocial David want to join even more. He’d say, “I sort of lived like behind the times. I wanted to see some action, prove something to myself. It was rebellion then against parents, country and stuff. Kids were hippies and into drugs. I guess, then, I was very patriotic. Nobody else, except a couple of people, were.” 
 
 He’s a good dude! He’s a patriot! He’s an American flag loving patriot who, if demons hadn’t of fucked with him, would have undoubtably become a four star general and war hero. 
 
 David passed the Army physical and also passed the psychological tests in July. His Army psychological assessment actually revealed nothing atypical at all. He was perceived to be a normal recruit who the Army thought would do well in the infantry and not cause any problems. And, regarding his time in the Army, they were right about him. 
 
 David told recruiters he wanted to fight in Vietnam, but the US involvement in Vietnam was winding down. Troops were now returning from Southeast Asia - not going there. 
 
 Not able to make it to Vietnam, David applied for duty in Korea “because my recruiter told me I could get from there to Nam, which was not true.” He served as an infantryman, rising to the rank of Specialist E4, and he patrolled the Demilitarized Zone between North and South Korea. He said, “We saw North Koreans, but while there was a potential for action, we never had any. There were some North Koreans by the fences. On patrols, we guarded the bridges over the Inchon River.”
 
 David adapted well to Korean barracks life. He wasn’t a perfect soldier but he didn’t do anything that would indicate he might become a serial killer either. 
 
 His record indicates he had an inclination to be late, but, so did a lot of other soldiers. Once, with the Second Infantry Division, he missed a truck convoy he was supposed to ride along with. On another occasion, he went AWOL overnight, missing a bus back to his unit. He was fined $50 and had his rank reduced from E4 to E3.
 
 According to his fellow soldiers, Specialist David Berkowitz was just an average guy. The one possible significant comment we could find comes from a fellow soldier Davi Zammit, who said “Whenever barracks banter about sex came up, David would back off.”
 
 Alright. He was reluctant to talk about sex. Maybe had some hangups. Maybe just shy. Not necessarily a big red flag. 
 
 After being arrested for multiple murders a few years later, David would talk about his time in Korea to both his legal counsel and to court-appointed psychiatrists. Here’s some of what he said:
 
 “I got there in the unit and I was really, you know, just out of training. I was really gung-ho, super straight. Everyone who got there, changed. Wow! When we got exposed to everything, everyone changed. Almost everybody went crazy. 
 
 “There was all the women in the village [of Kumwa], you know, and we used to start smoking dope. There were prostitutes in the village. If you wanted. It only cost a couple of dollars. But you had to stay clean. It was important to me. You could only go so far with them. They were willing. We lived like millionaires there, every GI. We had so much money. The women wanted so little. We really partied.” 
 
 “Drugs were very heavy. The guys there zonked out. They used alcohol. There was a group there called ‘the juicers’ that would stay with alcohol. Like Southern guys, Indians, Mexicans. They would constantly be going to the village and you would have to drag them back. The guys had all types of drugs. At first I tried to resist, but everybody else was doing all types. Guys came into the barracks really zonked. After a while I went into drugs, except for heroin. Speed. Uppers. Downers. Acid. Mescaline. Whatever was brought in. Stuff that everyone’s using now. Stuff that sounds American. I liked pot best. I didn’t do too much of the other stuff, very little, really.” 
 
 Man. Regarding the drugs - what a time to be alive! Back in teh days before random drug testing!
 
 Here’s a little trivia about that. 
 
 The Department of Defense would actually introduce drug testing in the military this same year - 1971. But no punitive actions would be associated with it for many years. Some soldiers returning from Vietnam began to have their urine tested to identify those who could benefit from drug rehab programs for those suffering from opioid dependency. 
 
 This testing found that roughly 42% of all servicemen in Vietnam had at least tried opioids, and at least half of those were actually addicted. 
 
 Damn. That is a LOT of opium and heroin. 
 
 Another round of testing in 1980 would find that 27.6% of the enlisted men and women had used some type of illegal drugs in the past 30 days. 
 
 And it wouldn’t be until 1986 that mandatory drug testing would occur. 
 
 https://prhome.defense.gov/Portals/52/Documents/RFM/ Readiness/DDRP/docs/72208/ DoD%20Drug%20Policy%20History.pdf 
 
 And now back to David and 1971. 
 
 David did drugs while in the military - not a big deal. Almost everyone else was doing them as well. If anything, David indulged less than most of his fellow soldiers. Those who served with him who have been interviewed don’t seem to think he indulged in anything stronger than pot. David himself would mention in other interviews that he did LSD “twice, maybe less.” 
 
 lesson!!! Such a badass! He’s going to take the fight to DC! To the Pentagon! Use his military training to become a one man wrecking crew. A real life Rambo. A flesh-and-blood Punisher. An unstoppable killing machine. 
 
 And does he do that? Of course not. He uses his training to sneak up on unarmed, unsuspecting women and shoot them and then run away like a coward. Some badass. 
 
 Later he would say that the letters he sent home were just meant to be “shocking” and he wasn’t serious. Sure they were weirdo. 
 
 After returning from Korea, Berkowitz is stationed at Fort Knox in Kentucky less than forty miles north of Louisville, where he was made a clerk-typist, which he describes as a “very responsible position.” “All my time at Fort Knox,” he says, “I was an A-Number- One soldier. I didn’t use drugs, just a couple of pills, occasionally. Maybe, once a month someone would have pot.”
 
 Haha! I love it when people do this. Say one thing and then contradict in the very next sentence and then don’t acknowledge that. 
 
 (Berkowitz) “I never did drugs when I was there! Not once! …. A couple times a month I popped some pills. I was 100% clean the entire time! … A couple times a month I smoked a little pot.”
 
 “I never killed anyone! I’m completely innocent. … I murdered a few ladies a month.… But I was never A MURDERER.” 
 
 Whether or not this guy is technically mentally ill, he is for sure nuts. For sure not playing with a full deck. 
 
 David continues to describe his time in Kentucky. 
 
 “It was very straight down there. You couldn’t socialize. Louisville had bars, but Knox itself was a dry town. Elizabethtown, the other town, would have lots of booze, places all along Interstate 65. The guys used to drink a lot. I didn’t have much money, so I couldn’t go out like that much. I spent a lot of time on post doing nothing. 
 
 Every day you would go back to the barracks. There would be a hundred guys there. It was all so ridiculous. If we went into Louisville, there would be one girl and about eight or nine guys with their hands on her. So you had to find other things to do. Sometimes you kept to yourself and masturbated. 
 
 I’m guessing by “sometimes,” David meant “almost all the time.” Just a sad, lonely man beating his dick like it owed him money. Thinking about the love of his life, Miss Chet. 
 
 David continues: “You could go to Louisville and get a prostitute, but it cost a lot of money. In Korea you could get a prostitute for a whole night, for a week, for fifty dollars. But in Louisville, it’s like New York. They want forty dollars or fifty dollars. Ridiculous. I never bothered with them in Louisville. The prostitutes there were dirty too. The girls in Korea were pretty. The prostitutes I saw in Louisville were not attractive.” 
 
 Never a fan of the guy who gets pissed at prostitutes for how much they charge. Always reads insanely misogynistic to me. “How dare these broads want more money for me to degrade them through cold, dehumanizing objectification! The nerve of these women!” 
 
 Berkowitz’s general conduct at Fort Knox is excellent and he receives good efficiency reports. He was actually considered a prime candidate for reenlistment. Too bad he didn’t! Several deceased New York residents would still be alive. David even won back his former rank of Specialist E4. In off hours he “chummed around” with barracks buddies. He played softball - crushing the long ball and getting outs at first base. he bowled and went to movies. He was quiet when he continually beat off, cleaned up after himself. He was a good guy! Respectful of his other soldiers. 
 
 The young Jewish man from the Bronx also became a Baptist while at Fort Knox. Growing up in a lower-middle-class household, David Berkowitz was Jewish in name and heritage but he was never that interested in practicing Judaism. 
 
 When he was bar mitzvah’d at Temple Adath Israel, David’s total knowledge of Hebrew consisted of four paragraphs, learned by rote, to be repeated without understanding.
 
 This is what David would say about his spiritual transformation: 
 
 “I began searching for a kind of religion at Fort Knox. There was an emptiness there, you know, with God. The meaning of life. I used to read a lot. Soul-searching, you know. They had guys in the barracks, like really Christian. They used to go to church all the time. One of them, John Almond, used to ask if I wanted to go along. One day I did. I went to church. The service was really uplifting. Men, women, children, singing, holding hands. I never felt anything like that before in my life. I considered converting, I wanted to go to church. I used to go there quite a bit for a time. But not to lose my Jewishness. I mean, I still wanted to be a Jew. But I didn’t want to miss church either. I finally converted.”
 6. May 18, 1974 - On May 18, 1974, David was baptized in the First Baptist Church, along with more than twenty others.
 
 He would say, “After the baptism, the group accepted me. I continued to pray as a Christian. But, towards the end of my tour at Fort Knox, I began to lose interest in Christian stuff. I could never stay with anything too long.”
 7.June 24, 1974 - On June 24th, 1974, less the two months after his baptism, the Army gives Berkowitz an honorable discharge. He’s done wit being baptist, Kentucky, and the military. He’s homesick and he wants to return to New York. He’s back in New York City by the end of June. 
 
 He returns home not knowing what to do with his life. Neighbors and co-workers will later describe him as a loner who keeps to himself.
 
 According to journal entries recovered after his later arrest, he (David) “Where ya heading, chief? Lower East Side? You bet! Whew. Gotta be real careful down there now. Those damn talking demon dogs are EVERYWHERES down there. You can’t throw a rock without hitting a Hell Hound. Rude bastards! One told me to fuck my motha last night. Can you believe that? Let you out here? You know - you’re the tenth customer today to tell me that and I’ve only had ten customers.” 
 9.February 1975 - While David’s mind possibly unravels - he also starts to think more and more about who his birth parents might be. 
 
 More on that, right after one of today’s sponsors. 
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 Link in the episode description. 
 
 Now back to David Berkowitz’s search for his birth mother. 
 
 In February of 1975, he convinces his dad, Nat, to show him his Bronx Surrogate Court adoption papers.
 
 Up until this point, David still thought his birth mother was dead, but he thought that maybe he could track down his biological father. 
 
 He contacted an organization called ALMA - Adoptees Liberty Movement Association - that helped reconnect adopted children with their birth-families.
 
 Every Tuesday evening ALMA met at Queens College and, in the early spring of 1975, David went to one of their open sessions. 
 
 After about an hour, he turned to the young man sitting next to him and said, “How would I find out about my mother, even though she’s dead?” 
 
 “How do you know she’s dead?” 
 
 “She died in childbirth.” 
 
 The guy laughed. “That’s what they all say.”
 
 David came up with a plan to find NYC telephone books for the year he was born, stored in the Fifth Avenue branch of the New York Public Library, and he started calling every single listing for anyone with the last name of Falco who lived in Brooklyn. The hunt for momma Betty was on. 
 
 Unfortunately, it was hard to really focus on finding his mom because of ALL THE GODDAMN DEMON DOGS RILING HIM ALL THE TIME! When they weren’t talking to him, they were howling. Loud howls all day and all night! Awhooooo! “I’m a demon dog!” Damn those hell hounds! 
 11.March 2, 1975 - At 2:00 A.M. on March 2nd, 1975, David decided to put an end to the howling. At least to some of it. He got dressed and pumped a shell into the firing chamber of his 12-gauge shotgun. 
 
 The howling grew louder as he got closer to the door. He shoved open a fire door at ground level in his apartment, stepped out, and saw that the moon was full. He then stepped up two concrete steps and saw what appeared to be a muzzled German shepherd. The animal grew silent, if an animal was even there, and this Hell Hound then turned and faced him. 
 
 David thought he was now facing the demon dog leader. He moved to within three feet of this canine lord of the underworld. 
 
 He raised his shotgun, pointed it at this demonic beast, and shot it. The disfigured creature pitched backward, bounced off of a wall, and then flopped down dead on the concrete courtyard. Scraps of shattered bone, fur, and flesh rested atop a pool of its own blood. 
 
 David hurried back upstairs - heart racing, pumped full of adrenaline - excited that he’d been brave enough to confront one of Satan’s minions. 
 
 At 10AM on Mother’s Day, Betty went downstairs and checked her mail out of habit. She found one envelope stuffed into the small metal box. It had been folded over many times - pushed through the tiny slot rather than being delivered by the postman. It was marked. “PRIVATE, MRS. BETTY FALCO (ONLY).”
 
 Betty read and reread the enclosed poem. Under the initials at the end of the verse was a phone number. The initials R.F. meant nothing to Betty; nevertheless she dialed the number, David answered, and the two spoke for the first time. 
 
 Betty was overwhelmed with emotions and ended the call early, promising to call David back very soon. She immediately called her daughter Roslyn Rothenberg sobbing. 
 
 Roslyn would later say, “My mother was completely hysterical. She kept crying, ‘My son. My son. My son. It’s my son!’ ” 
 
 When Betty calmed down, the two women agreed to meet with David at Roslyn’s home.
 13. May 17, 1975 - The following Saturday, May 17th, Richard David Falco was reunited with his biological mom. And he met his half- sister Roslyn, who lived with her husband, Leo Rothenberg and their two children.
 
 “David told me that he loved me,” recalls Betty Falco. “He said that he understood that I must have had a good reason for giving him up. But most of all, he kept telling me that he loved me. That was everything to me. I never had hoped for something this wonderful.”
 
 David immediately became one of the family. It was something he said he’d longed for. I can’t imagine. As the coming weeks passed, he would make three to four trips a week to his mom’s apartment. On weekends he went to his half-sister’s Roz’s garden apartment in Queens. He always brought gifts: a present for Roz’s girls or a cake for the family. He fell in love with Roz’s girls. “Whenever the bell would ring, Lynn, nine, and Wendy, eleven, would race to the door to see ‘Uncle Richie.’ ” 
 
 Interesting that he reverted to his birth name with mom and his half-sister. He was still David in his regular life but Richard when he was spending time with his biological family. 
 
 I’m not psychiatrist, but I can’t imagine that fracturing your identity like that is terribly mentally healthy. 
 14. December 1975 - In early December of 1975, armed robbers hold up Nat Berkowitz’s hardware store. Damn you, Fear City! Nat was sixty-five years old. And he was sick of living amongst the crime and the crime of 1970s NYC. . 
 
 “The robbery was the final straw,” Nat would later say. “That did it. I hadn’t lived this long so a thug could shoot me to death.” 
 
 David/Richard’s adoptive dad packed up and moved to Florida. 
 
 Meanwhile, David continues to unravel. He’d gotten a job working as a night security guard for I.B.I. Security, patrolling a Universal Carloading location at 60th Street and 12th Avenue in Manhattan. He made just above minimum wage, $128 a week. Not much ever happened and he was alone for the vast majority of his shifts. 
 
 Awesome. Even more time alone to think for young David Berkowitz. Exactly what he didn’t need. 
 
 He’d also recently enrolled in Bronx Community College but he didn’t show up much or study anything in particular. It was the half- hearted effort of a guy who was lost in a variety of ways. 
 
 David would later reflect on his time in college: “I didn’t study anything in particular. The first half I had to take all these remedial courses because I had been out of school so long. They started bugging me about making a decision on what I wanted to do. I put down plastics. I don’t know just why. I didn’t want liberal arts, because you have to mess with a foreign language. Stupid. I wanted to go to college to specialize in something, but I didn’t know what.” 
 
 Weird that he would think a foreign language was “stupid.” I feel like he was one of those people who was annoyed by or angry at everything and everybody. The whole world is stupid!
 
 Jessie Roberts, a fellow student, remembers David as someone who “sometimes sat in the back of the room, not participating. More often than not, he was absent.” 
 
 Part of the reason he was not showing up to class was that he was mentally deteriorating in one of several possible ways. Again - David has changed his story numerous times over the years. 
 
 From all the tales he’s told, by the end of 1975 he was likely either a dude who was just really, really angry with mom and the fact that she’d given him up and he wanted to lash out - but for complex emotional reasons he couldn’t actually bring himself to confront his mother. Maybe he thought she’d abandon him all over again. SO, he started to lash out at other women.
 
 OR - he was getting more and more frustrated with young women he was romantically interested in. Women he couldn’t, for whatever reason, connect to and his attacks and later killings reflected his rage over not being able to form the type of romantic relationship he wanted to form with this young women.
 
 OR - he had been diving deeper and deeper into the occult for years and thought he was actually worshipping evil forces and that it would please these evil forces to kill said women. 
 
 OR - he had a severe mental illness that was beginning to manifest. Something like paranoid schizophrenia, and he actually started hearing talking dogs urging him to kill. 
 
 OR - and I think this is most likely - some combination of everything I just went over. 
 
 Let’s go with the mentally ill narrative as we move forward because that is the story David has told the most often AND it the one the press ran with after his arrest AND it is the most entertaining possibility. her, or rape her. I just wanted to kill her.”
 
 He just wanted to kill her. That’s all! Why’d she have to make it so weird? 
 
 No one ever reported this crime and no one knows who this woman was or if this attack even happened. But David has stuck to this story over the years, so, it probably did. 
 
 And David wasn’t done for the night.
 
 He saw another woman approaching from out of the darkness. The knife was still in his hand. He concealed it within the denim jacket he wore and started after this second woman. Well, I say woman - really, a girl. 
 
 He would attack her from behind. Her name was Michelle Forman, and she was only fifteen-years-old. Just a sophomore at nearby Truman High School. She had reached the very center of the bridge when Berkowitz caught her. Michelle first felt a stabbing pain in her head. The knife then struck her upper body three times. She grabbed the bridge railing to keep her balance and turned to look at her attacker. Blood spurted from her head. David struck twice at Michelle Forman’s face. She was a “pretty girl,” David would say. He looked at her, thinking “Why aren’t you dead?”
 
 Michelle would live, but with severe injuries. David would flee and get away with it. Because he had attacked a stranger, and because it was dark and she wouldn’t be able to describe him very well, the police were left with very little to go on.
 
 David would claim the evil voices now had gone quiet. But they’d return soon. 
 16.February 1976 - In February of 1976, David moved into a two- family home in New Rochelle, a suburb just northeast of the city, just past the East Bronx. 
 
 Howling demon dogs in this new neighborhood kept Berkowitz from sleeping and he started getting even crazier. He began to think these hell hounds wanted him to go kill more women. 
 
 A couple named Jack and Nann Cassara owned the home and Berkowitz soon became convinced that this quiet couple was part of the demon conspiracy. Jack wasn’t really Jack Cassara, you see. He was General Jack Cosmo, commander in chief of the demon dogs that tormented him.
 
 A neighborhood dog was shot shortly after Berkowitz moved in, likely by Berkowitz. 
 
 David decided he would defy the demons. He didn’t want to kill. He was a good guy! So he abruptly moved out, leaving his security deposit of $200 behind. 
 
 Damn demons! What a shitty day - when demon dogs make you lose your security deposit. 
 
 David would later say, “I just couldn’t go back. They would have been waiting for me. They had everything planned. Their dog’s barking made things so bad that sometimes I couldn’t come home to sleep. Finally, it became too much. It all was too much. Sometimes I had to drive around all night.” 
 
 Driving became David’s way of trying to clear real and imagined noises from his mind. 
 
 “When I met General Cosmo,” David says, “he looked like an average man. But he was deceptive. After I got my stuff moved, he let loose his demons in the yard. They tore my head off. They constantly yelled, constantly howled, threatened. They were nasty, belligerent, blaspheming everything, everybody. God, people, the mayor—Abe Beame! 
 
 One night it was so bad I couldn’t sleep. I stormed out of the house yelling. The general [Cassara] came out. He said ‘What’s going on? What are you doing?’ I yelled at him: ‘STOP!’ He acted like he didn’t know what was going on. He had a smirk on his face. But then he made it stop, just for a little spell. Until the next morning, until the next day. In New Rochelle the demons began to explain what they wanted. They called up to me from the yard. They came into my head. They told me who Jack was. General Jack Cosmo, General of this region of demons. He wanted people to die. That’s it. Pretty simple. The demons needed blood. The feeling of killing innocent people. The feeling of killing and defying God. It was war. They’re still battling, still fighting. They need that blood. Me? I never needed or wanted blood. But after I shot someone, the demons would move in and feast.” 
 
 David relocates. It would be his last attempt to escape the commands of the demons.
 
 There were a few normal things going on in his life as well at this time. 
 
 In February of 1976 he interviews for a postal job at the Bronx General Post Office on the Grand Concourse after scoring well on their test. 
 
 I wonder if one of those questions was, “Do you hate dogs?” “BIG YES! Especially demon dogs!” And they were like, “We get it buddy. We hate dogs, too. You’re one of us. You found your tribe!” 
 
 David was told that he could begin work on March 15. His starting salary would be $13,000 per year—the most money he’d ever make. 
 
 His first job in the Post Office was working as a letter sorter, scanning addresses and zip codes from 4:00 P.M. until half an hour after midnight. 
 
 Fellow employees say that he ate alone in a corner of the cafeteria, and he generally spoke only after someone had first spoken to him and rarely interacted with anyone. 
 
 Sweet! MORE time alone to be left with his thoughts. More time to listen to the demons. 
 
 David would continue working for the Post Office until the end of 
 And for reasons known only to David, he thought the house next door to Sam, 22 Wicker Street, was a “Holiday Inn for Demons. That’s where the demons stayed. These demons traveled through the earth, you know. Like on different missions. They stopped at 22 Wicker Street to rest.” 
 
 Of course! The demons need a flop house. Makes a LOT of sense. They need a place to lay low for a little while. A place where they don’t have to worry about getting caught by the demon police or some Catholic exorcism squad or something. They gotta catch up on their demon zzz’s after exhausting themselves with all of their demon-doings. 
 
 David thought this seemingly quiet and normal neighborhood was actually a portal to Hell.
 19. May 16, 1976: 
 
 In the early hours or May 16th, 1976, brave, courageous Berkowitz decided to fight the demons. He’d had enough. He wasn’t going to give in to their murderous demands. He was gonna take the fight right to them. 
 
 He’d later say, “How do you destroy a demon, David? ‘You burn him in the fires of Hell.’ A demon is first of all an “indwelling evil spirit.” But in some interpretations, demons move freely between earth and hellfire below. Can you destroy a creature native to flames by burning?” David believed that he could.
 
 Before sunrise—at 5:00 A.M. on May 16—David gathered his demon-killing equipment. He was a regular poor man’s John Constantine. 
 
 He emptied what little remained of a half-gallon bottle of table wine and then poured in a flammable product called Red Devil Varnish Remover. He tore an old undershirt and stuffed a strip of cloth into the neck of the bottle, leaving a little cloth extended as a fuse. He’d made a weapon many a guerrilla fighter has used to stop a tank - a Molotov cocktail.
 
 David walked into the predawn dark of Pine Street, carefully avoiding street lamps. At the end of Pine going north, he made a left on Glenwood. Then he turned left again, onto Grove Street, and found himself directly behind his apartment house, Pineview Towers, which rises on a steep hill. He proceeded half a block south on Grove, then made a right turn into Wicker Street, until he stood just outside the low chain-link fence at the front of the white house numbered 18. He knew the Duke of Death was inside.
 
 He turned the bottle right-side-up and lit the wick. Then he threw his Molotov cocktail toward’s that Demon Holiday Inn on Wicker Street and fled. He did not stop running, he says, until he had returned to his apartment where he quickly locked the door.
 
 David said he stood against the door listening for the death shrieks of demons, caught in the flames. 
 
 Instead he said he heard sneering laughter. Immortal demons snickered at him for trying to destroy them with such a simple, mortal weapon. 
 
 Damn those demons! They were making a mockery of him! 
 
 There is, by the way, no record that anyone reporting the fire- bombing to the police. So did this happen? Probably not. OR - maybe David didn’t make a good Molotov cocktail. Maybe it just immediately petered out. Who knows. This is what he said happened. 
 
 David also claims he virtually stopped visiting his birth mom and his half-sister around this time. He says there was no falling out. He didn’t suddenly hate them. He just didnt’ have time to visit them anymore. Not with all the demons he’d been dealing with.
 20. July 28, 1976 - On July 28th, 1976, Berkowitz quit his watchman security job. He didn’t have time for that either. 
 
 He needed to focus on a murder he planned on committing the very next day. The demons told him he had to kill on July 29th, and it’s not like his boss was gonna give him time off for that. 
 
 (David) “Hey Rick, can I take tomorrow off?”
 
 (Rick) “Why? What’s going on, David?”
 
 (David) “Oh, these demon dogs that won’t let me sleep at night - they told me the only way for me to get Sam Carr and General Jack Cosmo to call them off was for me to kill a young lady tomorrow.” 
 
 (Rick) “Huh. Well, that does sound pretty important. As long as you can get Larry or one of the other guys to cover your shift I guess I don’t have a problem with you handling some demon business.” 21.July 29, 1976 - First Murder - Early the next morning, precisely at 1:10 AM, David did attempt to kill not one, but two women. 
 
 He walked up to a parked car in the Bronx where two young women, eighteen year-old Donna Lauria and nineteen-year-old Jody Valenti were talking near Lauria’s home, when they saw a strange man approaching them. 
 
 “Who is this guy?” Donna said to Jody. “What does he want?” Those would be her last words.
 
 David, who is right-handed, pulled a Charter Arms .44 Bulldog out from a paper bag he’d been hiding it in and assumed a semi- squatting position. And then he quickly fired five rounds. The car windows shattered. Donna raised her hands as if to protect herself from falling glass. One of the Smith & Wesson slugs struck the right side of her neck. Blood began to spurt from the wound. She died in minutes. 
 
 She’d never know who killed her or why. 
 
 Another bullet crashed into Jody Valenti’s thigh. She screamed in Hard to tell if it’s coming from all of the garbage everywhere here in Stink City or if it’s coming from the demon dogs. Sorry if there’s hair on the seat back there, by the way. I can’t keep those Hell Hounds off the seat! Would you mind checking under my seat? Sometimes they hide down there. Want to see my .44? I’ll let you hold it. Careful though - it’s loaded. Let you out here? Okay buddy. I should change my name to “Let Me Out Here.” That’s all I EVER hear.” 22. July 31, 1976 - On July 31st, David visits his half-sister, Roz. It’s been awhile since he’s seen her. 
 
 She would later say he complained of headaches. “Richie,” she asked, “have you seen a doctor?” “Yes,” he replied. “I’ve seen a couple and they tell me I’m very sick. One of them said I have a brain tumor.” Horrified, she pursued the matter. “Let me take you to someone, please.” 
 
 But he wouldn’t let her. The whole family was pretty sure at this point that he needed psychiatric help but he wouldn’t see anyone. 
 23. September 1976 - By mid-September, the demons were pressuring David again, violating his privacy and his peace. He couldn’t escape them. Each night he found himself cruising the streets of Westchester and the Bronx. He said, “They broke me down. I felt sick, weak. They took a lot away from me. Things I can’t get back any more, like feelings for people.”
 
 And - I’m not trying to be callous here but he WOULD be found fit to stand trial. And I just hate that all he does is blame these demons and play the victim. 
 
 By the fall of 1976, his visits to his family all but completely stopped again. “He claimed that he had a new job that kept him from coming,” remembers Roz. “We were sad he wasn’t visiting us often, yet glad his new job was going so well. I knew once things became routine at work he’d come more often,” recalls momma Falco. 24.October 23, 1976 - Third Attack - In the early morning of October 23, 1976, in Queens, Berkowitz had been trying to get through a “miserable night”. He’d heard a lot of howling again. “It was the Blood Monster,” he says, “Joquin the Joker,” who he says was a particularly powerful demon dog.
 
 Uh oh. They got the big dogs chasing him now. The Demon St. Bernards. Demon mastiffs! 
 
 For three hours, David paced the studio apartment. At one forty- five he faced the dresser beside the bed. He picked up the .44 and caressed it. As always, he made sure it was loaded.
 
 He got dressed and put the .44 under his belt. He threw on a denim jacket that would conceal the gun. He walked to his car and made his way down parkways, across the Bronx-Whitestone Bridge and into Queens. 
 
 Just after 2:00 A.M. he was cruising through Flushing. At the corner of 159th Street and 33rd Avenue he pulled up behind a red Volkswagen at the stop sign. 
 
 He noticed that the driver, twenty year-old Carl Denaro had long, wavy hair. He says that at the time, he couldn’t tell whether he was male or female. 
 
 He says, “I drove around. I saw the two of them had parked the car. I pulled around the corner and parked and I just walked up behind them. I walked up on the passenger’s side.” 
 
 Berkowitz drew the .44 from his belt and fired five times. “Glass shattered,” he says. “I stayed a couple of minutes watching.” While firing, he noticed the passenger’s brown jacket. He realized that one of the people at whom he was shooting was male. Damn it. The demons didn't want him killing males. They’d been very clear. 
 
 Inside the Volkswagen, Rosemary Keenan screamed. “Let’s get out of here.” She drove back to the Taxcipo Grill and helped Carl Denaro into the bar. He said to her, "I said, I don't feel too good." He rested his head on a table, and a large pool of blood spilled out from beneath his shoulder-length hair and shirt and he fainted.
 
 She was terrified but unharmed. Carl, wounded by a slug in the back of his head, would miraculously recover after two months of treatment. Surgeons at Queens General Hospital were able to replace shattered bits of his skull with a metal plate. 
 
 Big hand for surgeons and western medicine right now! Holy shit. I’m not saying homeopathic remedies don’t work for some ailments, but you’re not ever gonna crystal or herbal tea your way out of a hole in your skull. 
 
 And - also - how impressive is the human body? I’ve read so many stories about people who have been shot, with powerful firearms, at close range, in the FUCKING HEAD - and then they not only live but make full recoveries. 
 
 Our bodies are amazing. 
 
 https://www.cbsnews.com/news/son-of-sam-victims-in-their-own- words/
 
 Police determined that the bullets were .44 caliber, but could not determine what gun they came from. Investigators did not initially draw a connection between this shooting and the previous one, because they occurred in two separate New York boroughs back in the days before national digital criminal databases when it was so much easier to do some criminal-ing. 
 25. October 24, 1976 - The next day David Berkowitz studied the newspapers. The tabloids confirmed that he had indeed shot a man. He also recalls a sense of surprise that the papers gave greater play to accounts of the final debate between Jimmy Carter and Gerald Ford. Damn Fear City! Can’t even make the front page with a double shooting! 
 26. November 25, 1976 - David visited his newly found family on last time in the Fall of 1976. The last time he saw them while still being a free man was on Thanksgiving night, 1976. Instead of house, shattering a window and firing a final shot towards the sky. The demons wouldn’t haunt him tonight.
 
 Both girls survived their wounds, but Lomino was paralyzed. 
 
 Police were able to determine that the bullets were from an unknown .44 caliber gun. They were also able to make composite sketches based on testimony from the girls and neighborhood witnesses.
 
 I’m glad those girls lived but how extra-tragic in a way to be attacked at your front door. Damn. And Joanne Lomino’s poor parents. To think about how their daughter and her friend were shot right outside their front door. 
 28. January 29, 1977 - On January 29th, 1977, David went to bed at 7PM to the sounds of his demons baying. He remembers trying to sleep for three hours before dressing in the dark. The temperature outside was only 14 degrees. Grabbing his pistol from his dresser he checked to see if it was loaded before heading to his Ford Galaxy. 
 
 He remembers feeling the eyes of the demons watching him from the shadows. He was ready to use the gun on them if he needed to even though I’m PRETTY sure that’s not how it works. If demons are real - I don’t think you can just shoot them. 
 
 Anyways, it took David several tries to start the Ford. Then he sat for ten minutes waiting for the engine to warm and for the heater to start functioning. 
 29.January 30, 1977 - Second Murder - Meanwhile, a few hours later, Christine Freund and her fiancee John Diel were sitting in a parked car in Flushing, a community in the borough of Queens.
 
 John was thirty and a bartender at a local lounge. Christine was twenty-six and the pride of her mother’s life. They’d gone on a date to see the movie Rocky at the CONTINENTAL THEATER on Austin Street in Queens. They stopped at a wine gallery after the movie and talked about it and about their plans for marriage.
 
 They left The Wine Gallery just after midnight and walked over to John’s car, a blue Pontiac Firebird. Sweeeeeet ride. 
 
 He’d parked it at Station Plaza, just off Continental Avenue. As they walked, they passed other couples hustling for shelter in the 5 degree whether. They also brushed shoulders with David Berkowitz. 
 
 When he saw Christine he said that the demons told him she had to die. 
 
 The couple made it to their car and John started the engine. A few moments later, David approached them.
 
 He hurried to the passenger side - towards Christine. “The engine was running and I just walked up from behind,” he’d say. 
 
 He wanted “just to kill her. I wasn’t told to kill him. I aimed for her head, you know, quick and efficient. I guess practice makes perfect. I was able to control the gun, physically. After walking up, I stood in front of the window, crouched slightly. I brought the gun up with two hands. I opened fire. Three shots were all I had to use. 
 
 I only used three of the five shells in the gun. There really wasn’t any reason to use them all. I knew I had hit her. I had to save my ammunition. After I shot her I began to run. I ran to my car. It was quite far away. It meant a long run for me. I ran past the Long Island Railroad and kept on going. I think I heard the car’s horn blowing, and I think I heard the man get out. He began to scream. But by that time I was far away.”
 
 Neither victim ever saw him. John heard the explosion of gunfire and saw the right front window shatter into a shower of glass. He heard Christine scream as two bullets hit her. She was struck in the right temple and in the neck. The third bullet hit the dashboard.
 
 A trickle of blood ran from Christine’s head, through her soft, dark hair, and down onto the front of her coat. He put one hand on her head and tried to stop the blood from coming out. He pressed his other hand on the horn. He was crying in fright and shock. He called her name. There was no answer.
 
 Christine died at the hospital minutes later. John suffered only minor injuries from the broken glass.
 
 The police publicly connected this attack with the previous .44 caliber shootings. They noted that the shooter seemed to target young women with long, dark hair. 
 
 For young brunettes, Fear City just got a whole lot scarier. 
 
 When the composite sketches from the various attacks were released, NYPD officials at first noted that they were likely searching for multiple shooters. A short time later they narrowed their focus and suspected a single killer. 
 
 The killer was dubbed the “.44 Caliber Killer” by New York Newspapers. The victims, up until this this point, had all been between 18 and 26 years old.
 
 Christine Freund’s death wasn’t enough to satisfy Berkowitz’s demons. He’d later say: 
 
 “They kept needing blood and if I didn’t give them more blood when they wanted it, Sam would have done something real bad. Like kill multitudes. Once I remember his demons were howling all night long and I didn’t do anything. The next day there was an earthquake. Where? Turkey, I think.”
 
 Okay. So not only is he an innocent victim in all of this - David is actually a HERO! He is SAVING THE WORLD by shooting random young women around NYC. Let’s release him and name him mayor. Give him a whole bunch of trophies. 30.March 8, 1977 - Tuesday March 8th, 1977.
 
 In his studio apartment at Pineview Towers in Yonkers, David Berkowitz is restless.
 
 like a child to do it. He later said he wrote it that way because “it looked more menacing,” which leads me to believe he didn’t want them to UNDERSTAND him - he wanted the city to FEAR him. I think if he wasn’t outright making up the shit about all the demons and the dogs, he was greatly embellishing it. BUT. That’s just me. Again - lot of different opinions out there in regards to the state of his sanity throughout all of this. 
 
 Here’s what that first letter, sent in to the New York Daily News, said: 
 
 “I AM DEEPLY HURT BY YOUR CALLING ME A WEMON HATER. I AM NOT. BUT I AM A MONSTER. I AM THE "SON OF SAM" I AM A LITTLE "BRAT" 
 
 WHEN FATHER SAM GETS DRUNK HE GETS MEAN. HE BEATS HIS FAMILY. SOMETIMES HE TIES ME UP TO THE BACK OF THE HOUSE. OTHER TIMES HE LOCKS ME IN THE GARAGE. 
 
 SAM LOVES TO DRINK BLOOD. "GO OUT AND KILL" COMMANDS FATHER SAM. BEHIND OUR HOUSE SOME REST. MOSTLY YOUNG-RAPED AND SLAUGHTERED-THEIR BLOOD DRAINED-JUST BONES NOW PAPA SAM KEEPS ME LOCKED IN THE ATTIC, TOO. 
 
 I CAN'T GET OUT BUT I LOOK OUT THE ATTIC WINDOW AND WATCH THE WORLD GO BY. I FEEL LIKE AN OUTSIDER. I AM ON A DIFFERENT WAVE LENGTH THEN EVERYBODY ELSE- PROGRAMMED TOO KILL. HOWEVER, TO STOP ME YOU MUST KILL ME. ATTENTION ALL POLICE: SHOOT ME FIRST- SHOOT TO KILL OR ELSE. KEEP OUT OF MY WAY OR YOU WILL DIE! 
 
 PAPA SAM IS OLD NOW. HE NEEDS SOME BLOOD TO PRESERVE HIS YOUTH. HE HAS HAD TOO MANY HEART ATTACKS. TOO MANY HEART ATTACKS. "UGH ME HOOT IT URTS SONNY BOY." I MISS MY PRETTY PRINCESS MOST OF ALL. SHE'S RESTING IN OUR LADIES HOUSE BUT I'LL SHE HER SOON. I AM THE "MONSTER" - "BEELZEBUB" - THE "CHUBBY BEHEMOUTH."
 
 Ugh… you know, on second thought. Maybe he really was fucking crazy. That is one creepy letter. 
 
 The New York Daily News decided not to publish their letter straight away and ran a few tease articles over the next few days, then on the day they published the whole letter in the paper it sold out within an hour. They kept the presses rolling and by the end of the day they had sold 1,116,00 copies. This record wasn’t beaten until Berkowitz was arrested.
 
 If it bleeds, it leads! 
 
 https://murderpedia.org/male.B/b/berkowitz-letters.htm
 32. April 10, 1977 - 
 
 On April 10th, Sam Carr had received an anonymous letter complaining about Harvey, his black Labrador retriever. The anonymous letter complained that Harvey was a public nuisance. “Our lives have been torn apart because of this dog,” the letter read. It was signed, in bold script, A Citizen. The Carrs didn’t know what to make of the letter, yet for some reason they decided to save it. 33. April 17, 1977 On April 17, 1977, the voices would demand blood again. 
 
 David had left his apartment on the hunt at around 8:30 pm. He drove around until ten o’clock. Then, at the intersection of Bartow and Baychester avenues in the Bronx, he was stopped for a routine traffic check by police officers of the 45th Precinct.
 
 Berkowitz had no insurance card. Officer Jose Pinero issued a summons, ordering David to appear in Bronx Traffic Court on July 6, or his driver’s license would be suspended. He accepted the ticket without incident and continued to hunt…
 
 So close to getting caught. But - they didn’t have a photo of this guy for police to work with. Just a sketch. 
 
 A few hours later, David would find 18-year-old Valentina Suriani and 20-year-old Alexander Esau who happened to be parked just blocks away from the scene of the Valenti-Lauria shooting in the Bronx.
 
 At 3:00 A.M. Sunday, four shots shattered the passenger-side window of their car. Two shots struck them each. Alexander, in the passenger seat, slumped unconscious toward the dashboard. 
 
 Valentina fell backward. David could hear her moans. He raised the pistol again to fire a final shot, but suddenly he noticed approaching automobile lights on the street.
 
 He thought that the man was dead and that the girl was probably dying, she he quickly took another letter from his ski jacket and dropped it in the center of the service road, about ten feet from the car, and ran back to his Galaxie feeling, as he would say, “flushed with power.”
 
 Both Valentina and Alexander were dead before the coming dawn. 
 
 Investigators determined that they were killed by the same suspect - the man with the .44 caliber firearm. 
 
 At the crime scene, police discover another letter - a handwritten letter addressed to the captain of the NYPD.
 
 David said the purpose of the letter was not to win him publicity. He denied that he was dropping a clue in the hope that somehow he’d be caught and stopped from killing. No. Now he wanted the police to capture Sam! 
 
 Berkowitz hoped the police would find this letter and seek out Sam. Sam is the problem! Not him! If they would catch Sam Carr they would capture Satan. And David would then be free. Sam’s hold on him would die. David would be able to stop killing.
 
 When the press hear about this new letter, more fear over the “Son of Sam” builds. The police phone lines are lighting up as good intentioned people and nut-bars alike all have their own suspects to the letter, the Son of Sam states that he is a reader of Breslin’s column, and he references several past victims. He also mocks the New York City Police Department over its inability to solve the case. 
 
 In this letter, he also asks “what will you have for July 29?”. Investigators believed that this was a warning, as July 29 would be the anniversary of the first shooting. 
 
 And this is how this maniac ends this letter: 
 
 Here are some names to help you along. Forward them to the inspector:
 
 "The Duke of Death"
 "The Wicked King Wicker"
 "The Twenty Two Disciples of Hell"
 "John 'Wheaties' - Rapist and Suffocator of Young Girls."
 PS: J.B. Please inform all the detectives working the slaying to remain.
 P.S: JB, please inform all the detectives working the case that I wish them the best of luck. "Keep'em digging, drive on, think positive, get off your butts, knock on coffins, etc."
 Upon my capture I promise to buy all the guys working on the case a new pair of shoes if I can get up the money.
 
 John Weaties, by the way, is a nickname for John Carr, actual son of Sam Carr, who lived next to Berkowitz when David rented from Sam Carr. This idiot might have really been crazy. He’s giving the police so many clues. 
 
 The letter was published about a week later, and sent much of New York City into a panic. Many women opted to change their hairstyle, due to Berkowitz’s pattern of attacking women with long, dark hair. Merchants began to complain that people weren’t going out anymore. 
 
 It was the City of Fear the pamphlets warned about, at least, that was what it felt like for many.
 
 And Berkowitz wasn’t done yet. But - investigators were closing in. 
 37. June 7, 1977 - On June 7th, 1977, David Berkowitz failed to answer the summons he had received for driving an uninsured vehicle. The court automatically suspended his driver’s license and notice of the suspension was forwarded to NYPD computers.
 38. June 10, 1977 - Three days later, on June 10th, police officers Tom Chamberlain and Pete Intervallo interviewed Sam Carr, who gave them David Berkowitz’s name as the possible sender of the mysterious letters and the possible shooter of the Carr’s dog.
 
 Again - due to so, so many leads. They still don’t pursue Berkowitz as a serious suspect, but, he’s on their radar. 
 
 Meanwhile, David’s demons continue with their demands. 39. June 25, 1977 - On Saturday night, June 25th, 1977, David Berkowitz’s studio apartment was an oven from the summer heatwave. “The demons wanted girls,” he would say. He got dressed and hopped in his car, carrying that .44 in a paper bag.
 40.June 26, 1977- Eighth Attack - Hours later, early in the morning of June 26th, 1977, Judy Placido and Sal Lupo were sitting in their car in Bayside, Queens on their way home from a disco. They reportedly ironically were discussing the “Son of Sam” killings while sitting there at 3 AM. 
 
 “All of a sudden, I heard echoing in the car,” Judy Placido says.
 
 “There wasn’t any pain, just ringing in my ears. I looked at Sal, and his eyes were open wide, just like his mouth. There were no screams. I don’t know why I didn’t scream; I’ll never know why, I just didn’t.” 
 
 The couple at first thought someone threw rocks through the car windows.
 
 Sal climbed out of the car. He had been hit in the right forearm. He ran for help. Judy Placido found herself alone in the Cadillac. She sat there for perhaps five minutes, hurting, frightened, but mostly dazed. Then she suddenly looked into the rear-view mirror. She saw herself. “Blood was all over me.” She tried to open the passenger door, but something was wrong with her right arm. It wouldn’t move.
 
 “I was injured near the temple,” she says, “and near the spinal cord, and in my right shoulder. Yet I was able to run. But at the time I had no idea what had happened. I didn’t even know that I’d been shot. I didn’t think for a second I’d been shot by the .44-caliber killer.”
 
 Placido had been shot three times, but both she and Lupo would luckily survive the attack. Neither of them saw their attacker.
 
 And I’m guessing Judy was a LITTLE pissed at Sal for running and leaving her in the car. I know, right or wrong, my wife Lynze would be pissed at me. Rule number one if she and I get attacked is for me to NEVER, EVER flee the scene and leave her behind. I’m not sure that same rule applies to her. I’m pretty sure it’s okay for me to be left to figure shit out myself for some reason. 
 
 Witnesses reported seeing a tall, stocky man with dark hair fleeing the crime scene, as well as a blond man with a mustache driving in the area. Police believed that the dark man was their suspect, and the blond man was a witness.
 
 They were right. 
 
 Public concern over the rampaging serial killer is now growing into full-blown panic proportions, and New York nightclubs and restaurants see an even more dramatic drop in business. A blistering heat wave and a 25-hour blackout in mid-July helps make Berkowitz’s hell even more real.
 
 NYC is a super fun place to live in the summer of ’77. 
 
 Berkowitz would later recall that he hadn’t meant to shoot the man in the car, just the woman. As he left the scene in his car he anything, but I saw her fall away from me. I don’t know who got shot first, her or me. Gradually—it seemed like years—the hum began to subside.” 
 
 Violante had been shot twice in the face. Stacy Moskowitz slumped backward; she’d been shot once in the head. She moaned her final moans. Bobby heard her, but he couldn’t see her. Berkowitz’s bullets had blinded him. 
 
 “Stacy!!!” Bobby screamed. “Stacy. He killed us!!” Then Bobby thought, “But how could he have killed me? I’m still conscious. And Stacy can’t be dead. If she were dead, she couldn’t be moaning.” His hand found the car’s horn, and he hit it a couple of times. 
 
 Then, blind Bobby Violante staggered out of his car and wrapped his arm around a nearby lamp post. He thought the attacker might be close by, might shoot again. He didn’t care. He screamed into the night: “Help us. We’re shot. Help. We’re shot. Please, somebody, help us.” 
 
 Moskowitz died at the hospital from the shot to her head. Violante lost his left eye and was left partially blind in the other. 
 
 https://www.cbsnews.com/news/son-of-sam-victims-in-their-own- words/
 
 Several witnesses saw this shooting and they were able to provide descriptions of the shooter to police. One of the witnesses described that the man looked like he was wearing a wig, which could account for the varying descriptions of suspects with blond and dark hair. 
 
 The police were getting closer. But they still needed a bigger break to narrow in on one suspect. That break came a few days later when an eyewitness came forward to report that she had seen a man with what looked like a gun minutes before the shots were fired in Brooklyn. Her information led to the first detailed police sketch of Berkowitz. 
 
 She also noticed David’s yellow car with the parking ticket on it.
 
 The press exploded over the news of another “Son of Sam” killing. 
 
 And now, thanks to the parking ticket detail and the sketch, the Omega detectives found themselves looking specifically for Berkowitz. 
 42. August 10, 1977 - Arrest - On August 10th, 1977, police search David’s car. Inside they find a rifle, a duffel bag filled with ammunition, maps of the crime scenes, and an unsent Son of Sam letter addressed to Sergeant Dowd of the Omega task force.
 
 They also find a talking demon dog in the passenger seat, (Dog) “Hey! You guys looking for Davey! That guy is NUTS, know what I mean? Few clowns short of a circus, that guy. Can you scratch an itch right behind my ear. And while you’re close, you mind licking my balls? I’m tired of doing it myself all da time.” 
 
 No. No dog is found! 
 
 Police decide to wait for Berkowitz to leave his apartment, hopefully with enough time to obtain a warrant, as they had searched his car without one. The warrant never arrives, but police surrounded Berkowitz when he leaves his apartment, holding a .44 Bulldog in a paper bag. When Berkowitz is arrested, he allegedly tells police “Well, you got me. How come it took you such a long time?” 
 
 He denies saying that famous phrase today. However, that doesn’t mean he didn’t say it. He denies all kinds of stuff today. 
 
 Investigators who arrested him reported that he “gleefully admitted” to being the Son of Sam. On his person was a rifle, and he explained he was on his way to commit another murder.
 
 When police searched Berkowitz’s apartment, they found Satanic graffiti drawn all over the walls, and diaries detailing his alleged 1,400 arsons in the New York area. 
 
 When Berkowitz is taken in for questioning, he quickly confesses to the shootings and states that he would plead guilty. When police ask what his motivation for the killing spree was, he said that his former neighbor, Sam Carr, had a dog that was possessed by a demon, and that demon dog told Berkowitz to kill.
 
 And I’m guessing a lot of demon dog floated around NYP precincts for the next several years. 
 43. May 8, 1977 - Court - 
 
 The Son of Sam had been caught. He’d plead guilty. Fear City was a little less afraid. Now, they just had to put this guy behind bars. 
 
 There was a little anxiety regarding how long they could lock him up, because investigators weren’t confident that he was was mentally fit to stand trial. But on May 8, 1978, Berkowitz withdrew an insanity defense he was initially pursuing, he was declared fit to stand trial, and he plead guilty to the six murders. 
 
 Berkowitz, in fact, appeared to enjoy the media attention his case was receiving and he proceeded to sell his exclusive story rights to a publishing house. And that prompted New York state to adopt the first in a nationwide series of so-called "Son of Sam laws" that take proceeds a criminal earns from selling their story and gives them to a victims' compensation fund.
 
 Berkowitz was given six 25-years-to-life sentences for the crime, the maximum penalty allowed at the time. 
 
 And as you heard at the beginning of this Suck, he remains imprisoned in NY state today. 
 44.December 1st, 1979: On December 1st, 1979, The Doobie Brothers Release (Sing) “Minute by Minute by Minute by MInute, I keep holding on! I keep holding on…
 
 The album spent 87 weeks on the chart. In the spring of 1979 Minute by Minute was the best-selling album in the U.S. for five non-consecutive weeks. It was certified 3× Platinum by 47. July 10, 1979 - Throat Slashed - On July 10, 1979, David the murderer is almost murdered in prison. He was giving out water to the other inmates in his section when another inmate, William E. Hauser, attacked him with a razor blade and slashed his throat. The wound required sixty stitches.
 
 After this attempt on his life, David would try and commit suicide several times.
 48. 1987 - In 1987, David is incredibly already up for parole which seems INSANE to me. Luckily, he was denied parole and he has been denied every time since. But seriously, why is someone like this even offered it!?! 
 49. 1996 - In 1996, Yonkers police reopened Berkowitz’s case to investigate some of his claims about Satanic Cults, but since there's been no significant findings, the investigation was suspended. 
 50. February 2018 - In February 2018, the New York Post reported that Berkowitz had had a heart attack prior to his first surgery in December. In late January 2018, he had to undergo further treatment and returned to the hospital after experiencing complications.
 
 David has now recovered and the now 66 year-old, as I said at the start of the episode, insists on being called The Son of Hope and works on Christian ministry. 
 
 And that is all for today’s Son of Sam Timesuck Timeline.
 PAUSE TIMESUCK TIMELINE OUTRO 
 IV.Additional Thoughts
 A.Recap: 
 
 David Berkowitz. He killed six and attacked nine more. He claims he set over 1,400 fires and would proclaim all of this to be the work of demons. 
 
 And then he’d say he made it all up. 
 
 And THEN he’d say he was actually working with a group of satanists called the “Process Church of Final Judgement”. And this is the group that Yonkers investigators looked into.
 B. The Process Highlights - Berkowitz would claim, years after being incarcerated, that there were five other killers besides himself including two women. He said he was tricked to take the fall for a plot to spread terror across the city by the Process.
 
 Instead of Sam Carr being a demonic agent, he was actually a Satanic agent, as were his sons Michael and John Carr. Berkowitz claims that Michael Carr was the one who killed Sal and Judy. 
 
 Berkowitz’s satanic cult story is a dark one. It includes connections to “snuff films”, pornography, ritualistic sacrifices of animals and humans, drug dealers and executions. He also claims the Process killed more than just the six people he was charged with, claiming at least 12 or 13 - BEFORE he was caught.
 
 He says the goal for the Process was to kill 100 people and that the group had clandestine financial support. 
 
 Do I think this group, the Process Church of Final Judgement, is real? Yes. They are a real group. BUT - not in the way David Berkowitz claims. Do you? I doubt it. You know who does? The Idiots of the Internet. 
 
 https://www.investigationdiscovery.com/crimefeed/crime-history/ unholy-communion-does-a-satanic-cult-connect-son-of-sam-to- charles-manson
 
 http://www.nbcnews.com/id/5351509/ns/dateline_nbc-newsmakers/t/ did-son-sam-really-act-alone/
 PAUSE
 IDIOTS OF THE INTERNET INTRO 
 V.Idiots of the Internet
 A.Today’s Video: Today’s video is titled, “Unveiling the Mysteries of the Process Church of the Final Judgement.” 
 
 And it is an hour’s worth of vague, Satanic secret society ramblings. A script read in a robot voice because the narrator is worried that the Process Church is going to come for him for sharing the group’s secrets even though no juicy secrets are shared. 
 
 And - let me be clear - the video mentions David Berkowitz pointing out this group and it IS a REAL group. The Process Church of the Final Judgement was a small cult formed by two ding dongs who got kicked out of Scientology in the UK in the mid-60s. And the group was believed by many to be Satanic. AND they were kind of active in the US in the late 60s and 70s, mainly in New Orleans. AND in urban folklore, they did become associated with ritual murders. There’s a reason Berkowitz threw out this particular name. Charles Manson was believe for a time to have been associated with this group. But this connection has never been substantiated. 
 
 And we could do a whole Suck on the Process. They were weird, they’re no longer around in any meaningful form any more, and they didn’t kill a bunch of people for Satan. They weren’t even really Satanic. They were a hybrid of Scientology and they basically took Judeo-Christian characters, including Satan - and put them on a somewhat equal playing field. Kind of like if you took Jesus, and God, and Satan and had them all living together like Greek Gods on Mount Olympus. 
 
 And they were never seriously connected with any horrible crimes and they never had shit to do with David Berkowitz.
 
 So let’s not waste any more time explaining them and let’s get straight to the comments. (Prospector) “There’s gold in this here you will just listen to him, come interview him, hang on his every word - he’ll tell you all about them. 
 
 At least that’s what I think about all this. The idiots of the Internet, strongly disagree. 
 PAUSE IDIOTS OF THE INTERNET OUTRO 
 
 The Son of Sam. If you didn’t know before, now you know the gist of this guys’s tale. A troubled, sensitive, possibly chemically imbalanced kid who never seemed to psychologically recover from finding out that his biological parents - especially his mother - didn’t want him when he was born. 
 
 And I haven’t been adopted and don’t know what that feels like. 
 
 But - I think it’s a shame he couldn’t appreciate how much his adopted parents DID love him. His father, Nat, visited Berkowitz in prison regularly until he died in 1999. Never stopped loving him. Not even after the murder confessions. 
 
 He’s never had a bad thing to say about his adoptive mother or father. By all accounts, they doted on him. 
 
 If he could have just understood that he had it, in that regard, better than many kids raised by their biological parents, maybe he would’ve turned out differently! 
 
 Makes me think of the beginning of that famous Serenity Prayer, sometimes called “the Recovery Prayer.” 
 
 “God, grant me the serenity to accept the things I cannot change, the courage to change the things I can, and the wisdom to know the difference.”
 
 David could never change the fact that his birth mother gave him up for adoption, and for reasons known either only to him or to no one, he was never wise enough to figure out that choosing to remain angry over that would never lead to anything good. Sad the he never was courageous enough to change what he could - and that would be his perspective. He could’ve let go of his desire for that birth mom and focuses on the love he already had. 
 
 ALSO - he could’ve been courageous enough to really confront his birth mom about why she left him. Doesn’t sound like he did. He could’ve tried to get real closure instead of just telling her, “Well, I’m sure you had your reasons. Love you, ma!” PUSH IT DOWN. PUSH THE ANGER DOWN. LET IT RISE IN THE FORM OF DEMON DOGS. 
 
 All of that is easier for me to say than it was for him to do, of course, but I bet he would’ve turned out a whole helluva lot better had he would’ve approached his life with a different perspective. 
 
 Time now for top five takeaways. 
 PAUSE TOP FIVE TAKEAWAYS INTRO 
 VI.Top Five Takeaways
 1.Number One: Number one! NYC was one called the “City of Fear”! I always wondered where all the bad NYC stereotypes came from. Turns out they came from a lot of crime going on from 1975 to 1977. Glad that city is way better now. It’s a great place to visit! Love NYC. 
 2.Number Two: Number two! This case required up to 200-300 law enforcement officers to finally solve. Team work makes the dream work, baby. Had a lot of people not worked together, Berkowitz would’ve for sure killed more people. Probably many more. 
 3.Number Three: Number three! Some good came from this horrible case. The “Son of Sam Laws” as they are called forbid the sales of books, movies or other works based on and/or written by convicted murders to go to the murders or their families. Basically, people can’t profit off their stories if they kill folk. The profits instead go to the victims families. There are 41 States that have laws like these thanks to this case. Why aren’t there 50!?!
 4.Number Four: Number four. Why did David actually kill? I keep going back and forth. Mental illness? A fascination with the dark side of the occult? Was he just pissed he couldn’t find a Miss Chet in NYC who he didn’t have to pay to be intimate with him?
 
 I don’t know. We may never really know. 
 5.Number Five: And number five. New info! David Berkowitz inspired a lot more pop culture interest than most serial killers. 
 
 Many artists have gravitated towards this case for inspiration of some kind. From authors to film makers and musicians. 
 
 Spike Lee released a movie called Summer of Sam in 1999 based loosely on this story. Songs inspired by these events include "Son of Sam" (1978) by The Dead Boys, "Son of Sam" by Chain Gang, and "Looking Down the Barrel of a Gun" (1989) by the Beastie Boys. 
 
 Guitarist Scott Putesky used the stage name "Daisy Berkowitz" while playing with Marilyn Manson in the 1990s, and the band's song "Son of Man" clearly describes Berkowitz. 
 
 Also - the Talking Heads song “Psycho Killer” is often and wrongly attributed to being about Berkowitz. It’s not. It’s about the character Norman Bates from the Hitchcock movie, Psycho. And THAT character was based on another Suck Subject - Ed Gein. 
 PAUSE TOP FIVE TAKEAWAYS OUTRO 
 VII.Final Announcements
 A.Episode has been sucked!: Another serial killer. Sucked.
 
 Glad he’s behind bars. So scary to think about what he represents. That someone you’ve never met could just walk up to you and shoot 
 Devotedly your minion
 
 Tim Miller
 
 P.s. We both agree that your scariest story to date was the black eyed kids.
 
 Wow. Thanks Tim. Appreciate the kind words. (Chikatilo) And happy Birthday Alex! I hope I find you to wrassle! I give you birthday stabs, maybe jerk soft shame cock while you blow out candles. Then you blow me capitalist pig scum! Russia forever! Fuck you and Tim!”
 
 There you go guys. Sorry about the language. OH MY HECK! 
 B.Next up. Some trucker love! And when I say that, I want to put .com at the end. Trucker love dot com. Which is not a porn site. I checked. This comes in from Meatsack Ronn. Ronn writes: 
 
 
 A Truckers Thank You.
 
 Hey SuckMaster D and the fabulous crew.
 
 I’ve  wrote in a few times just to thank you all for the laughs and knowledge that is brought to my ear holes every week. 
 
 Last weeks episode on the “Happy Face Killer” was probably one of my favorites, and not because of a serial killer. But because you gave a shoutout to all of us truckers out here doing a job that most people probably think is easy. 
 
 Just driving and that’s it. Not seeing the all the traffic and wrecks. Sitting and waiting at company’s to deliver. Missing home time with family and friends, holidays, birthdays, etc. you get the drift. 
 
 Timesuck, STD, and your station on Pandora get me through my long days. I usually drive about 600 miles a day, so I’ve heard most of your stand up and definitely caught up on the podcasts. 
 
 But I really do appreciate the shoutout that you guys gave us and showing the support. Even tho I know there is a small percentage of Truckers out there that truly do suck at their job and scare the living shit out of people. But most of us are “Professional Drivers” and are more concerned about the safety of traffic around us then ourselves. 
 
 Thank you and the team once again. 
 
 Humble and Loyal Meatsack. 
 -Ronn
 
 Thank you Ronn! Keep staying safe and thanks for doing an awesome job of keeping shit on the shelves. So glad you like the content. We love having you and other truckers in the Cult of the Curious. 
 C.Next up - a man Leslie! Got a lot of shit for my Leslie comments and they were deserved. Can’t believe I forgot about Leslie Nielson - star of The Naked Gun and so many other funny movies. Another Leslie and awesome Meatsack writes: 
 
 Good morning Lord Suckington Of The Kingdom of Chickatilo and Peanut Butt Butter With Which We Enjoy Shame Cocks and Pet Head Popsicles (Mother!),
 
 I was enjoying the entertainment that is your podcast right after verbally berating one of my coworkers during a stressful midnight shift (working 11:00pm-7:00am at a high demand hotel on weekends tend to do that) and it hit me: your take on men named Leslie is both on point and struck a nerve in me. My father named me Leslie and I’ve never forgiven him for it. I had to endure being teased by my classmates as a kid because of my name and have numerous teachers refer to me as “Ms. (insert last name)” during roll calls early in the school year. As I grew up and met other men named Leslie (quite a few men actually), I saw a recurring trend with them: low self-esteem, introverted, a tendency to enjoy kill neighborhood pets and strays, randomly disciplining kids with leather belts etc. I’m kidding about the pets and leather belts...or am I? But after hearing about that piece of shit Keith Jesperson’s dad Leslie, I wonder if the sadistic male Leslie gene lingers inside me and I’ve just manage to suppress it for 30 years by the grace of Nimrod. 
 
 Anyway, thank you for acknowledging the awkwardness of my name and thank you for providing all the free laughs on Timesuck that many people seem to complain about on 1 star reviews. I’ve been locked in since the Timesuck/Crime In Sports Caligula crossover episode and I’ve been looking to find the perfect reason to email you. Turns out, my serial weirdo first name was the gateway towards that. Who knew?
 
 All The Thanks,
 Leslie In Michigan
 
 Thank you Leslie! Haha!
 D.Now a powerful message from a Ginger Meatsack and dude I just saw in Michigan - Chuck. Chuck writes:
 
 Subject: You were just another comedian on Pandora
 
 Good Evening Kizzash King,
 
 I know you're getting ready for your show tonight but have been putting this email off far too long. After the loss of a woman I considered a mother this year, I need to send it. 
 
 I want to thank you for everything you've done for me. I don't want to waste your time but I feel if you know the whole story then you will know just how much you have really done for me. You don't have to share it as I know it is long. I mostly just wanted to let you know all of the good that you've done. 
 
 When I got out of the Army in 2012 I tried chasing feeling "normal" through anxiety medications and alcohol. As I chased my degree in Criminal Justice I lost who I was to all the meds the VA put me on. I'm not sure what they did but I became a completely different person. I won't blame everything I have done on them but I know they did more bad than good. Those important to me suffered the most.