Silent ZODIAC –The Phantom of Colonial Parkway

I’ve touched on my True Crime agenda for 2017, and although always mentioning the Phantom of Colonial Parkway (The Colonial Parkway Murders) I didn’t think I would be able to get there this year and put up some preliminary pages on my website regarding the crime scenes. Fortunately, a careful independent investigator who is familiar with my crime scene photography and reconstruction has visited the locations and has graciously given me many photos.

Let’s just touch on the Jullianne Williams and Lollie Winans double murder location here. Though it occurred far from the historic parkway,  there is a possible link between it and the first of the Colonial Parkway lovers’ lane murders between 1986-1989.

It occurred some time in late May 1996 in the Shenandoah National Forest, not far from the Skyline Drive road, the main road that services the area. It was just off Bridle Trail, in a small clearing about 500 yards from the road. In this clearing they pitched camp. It overlooked a small creek. It was therefore not a remote a location as it might sound from the general write-ups. It was 400 to 500 yards from the road.

I’m not going to go into the details of the crime here. I’ve written about them before. The facts in a nutshell are that on June 1, 1996, their bodies were found. Lollie was in the tent and Julianne was about 40 feet away in her sleeping bag next to the gentle creek. Both had been bound and murdered, their throats cut. Their dog Taj was later found wandering around the forest “apparently” unharmed.

My intrepid indie inves. has visited the Bridle Trail a number of times, guided by much of the report that has been made public. Some of the pictures in preliminary here will help the reader to envision how the killer had to arrive at the crime scene.



Close to where the pair was last seen. They had been dropped off by a ranger at 5:30 p.m. on May 24, 1996. Opposite the road is the entrance to Bridle Trail.











The entrance to Bridle Trail. In January 2017 it was 35 degrees and cold and desolate. The indie inves. saw only one owl the entire time. No other life or birdsong. In late May it would be lush, but the trail, largely designed for horse back riding, would have been the same. It would be the only quiet way the killer could arrive at the campsite. We must deduce that he knew there were campers down the trail. He may have come across them in the days before the murder and chatted idly with them before returning. Taj the dog could even have become familiar with him.





Above, about 400 yards down Bridle Trail, off the left, is the clearing. The report contradicts, saying in one entry that they proceeded 190 yards in and 500 yards in to make their camp. The indie inves. was careful and paced it off. At 190 yards there was no sign there had ever been a clearing. At 400 yards and by the creek he came upon this clearing.


Possibly right on the crime scene area– at the clearing and looking down at an angle on the creek. Williams was found by the creek in her sleeping bag. It is hard to imagine how anyone could sneak up. There is no path down to the creek. There is a noisy carpet of decay.


The creek straight down from the clearing.


The creek trickling along toward the clearing.


The clearing.

We can hold up on any detailed analysis of the area for the page on the Q Files, but I think it is clear that the killer could not just walk up and have taken them by surprise unless both were asleep. The dog would have to be a heavy sleeper as well. Either the killer had ingratiated himself in the days before  . . .  or?

However, we now have an idea of the location and the underwood. Except for the narrow trail it is a fairly noisy underwood and ground cover. The killer knew there was a couple there. I think it is safe to say that. He wasn’t just strolling the path one night fully prepared to bind and murder a couple.

I don’t like getting into the “hate crime” classification issues. It is a joke of a description to me, since it implies their is murder from love. But to touch on it here we must. The couple was suspected to be lesbian. Of course, some killer stumbling along at night wouldn’t be able to even know that. One girl was in a sleeping bag 40 feet from another in a tent. From the distance of a prying eye in the underwood, the said prying eye couldn’t even determine who was in the tent and probably could not determine the gender of either of them. From the general location and circumstances it seems he made contact with them before, knew how long they would remain at the campsite and then came back. He might therefore have known or suspected they were lesbians (if true)  and that was his demented motive.

However, if we are to link this double murder with the double murders of Colonial Parkway, we have to wonder if the killer simply preyed upon couples. There was a vaguely similar way in which one of the Colonial Parkway couples was murdered. Of the other pairs found murdered, only one was a female couple. The others were not. It was the female couple that had their throats slit, though the circumstances were quite different (they were in their car parked at a turnout on the historic parkway). Yet it seems the same Phantom of Colonial Parkway who had killed the heterosexual couples thereafter had also killed them. If so, there could be a link to this brutal and in many ways still vague double murder 10 years later in the Shenandoah National Forest. Yet it seems the killer here had to take far more preplanning than that required for the more spontaneous lovers’ lanes killings along the Parkway. . .

I am indebted to the intrepid independent investigator who has taken the trouble to help clarify and bring some order to this crime in order to facilitate its solution.

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Since 1990 Gian J. Quasar has investigated a broad range of mysterious subjects, from strange disappearances to serial murders, earning in that time the unique distinction of being likened to “the real life Kolchak.” However, he is much more at home with being called The Quester or Q Man. “He’s bloody eccentric, an historian with no qualifications who sticks his nose into affairs and gets results.” He is the author of several books, one of which inspired a Resolution in Congress.


True Crime Calendar

The Gruen Zumzum is preparing to sortie forth. Why is my car the Green Bee (in German)? Because I can only do cold cases. I gather data, I beetle and investigate, like a bee gathering pollen, but I cannot sting. I cannot do hot cases. I cannot nail directly a nasty and drag him in. Alas I cannot have the Green Hornet. There is no Gruen Wespe pour moi.

In all seriousness now, let’s touch upon some updates and give hints to what 2017 will bring.

Like probes issuing forth in Empire Strikes Back, I have sent out queries to all locations wherein NORCAL struck– the purpose to attain at least the street name. This will allow me to backwork his Stalking MO and therewith his job and where he encountered and selected his victims. NORCAL was the Phantom of the Opera rapist– dramatic, sarcastic, smug, a performer of arrogance before his shocked victims in their homes. He last struck 11 years ago. He can still be prosecuted in Sac. Co.

NORCAL, 2006


I will be visiting Doodler strike locations in San Francisco and gathering more data. This will be one of documentation. Essentially the Doodler can be named, but the circumstances and obviously the enthusiasm is not there to pursue a public outing– yet.

Preliminary inquires have gone forth on The Visalia Ransacker, the bizarre house wrecker of California’s Haddonfield. Visalia, California, is a college town in the middle of arid San  Joaquin Valley. In 1974 and 1975 this strange man displayed unusual knowledge of neighborhoods and residents’ schedules and entered their houses when no one was home and ransacked them. He is suspected to be the murderer of Claude Snelling.

The same inquiries will be going forth over The Colonial Parkway Murders and, perhaps soon, inquiries over the Long Island Serial Killer.

Trifecta update: Documents will be heading my way over Wilcox RE: The Zodiac Murders, and I personally have to go into the Superior Court over EAR/ONS POI. I sincerely hope I can make it to Portland, Oregon, this year in order to root about and trace more of the details of my POI for D.B. Cooper.

The Visalia Ransacker, 1975


The trifecta is especially important, as you all know. The entire True Crime community has been following my work on these cases, and aside from a solution in and of itself the trifecta solution will show that someone can independently investigate true crime cases seriously and solve them. No more of the “daddy did it” books and thin S&M milking a topic.

As you also know, True Crime is only one genre that I have taken up. I will be posting on the others in future posts. A new home page for The Quester Files will go up, and Doodler and NORCAL will get their own sections on the site.

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Since 1990 Gian J. Quasar has investigated a broad range of mysterious subjects, from strange disappearances to serial murders, earning in that time the unique distinction of being likened to “the real life Kolchak.” However, he is much more at home with being called The Quester or Q Man. “He’s bloody eccentric, an historian with no qualifications who sticks his nose into affairs and gets results.” He is the author of several books, one of which inspired a Resolution in Congress.

Forget Mars. Forget Your Flanks– Think Big. Warp Your Mind.

Only a coprolite is fit to live on Mars.

With the psi you’d have a dog’s lifespan anyway. Who’d want to live in domes that have to be hermetically sealed and pressurized? The atmosphere allows the solar radiation to do nasty things to the material. With the planetary winds, the potential of a rock hurled at the dome causing just a little crack is very real. The result is you will be ribbon poop.

This the blunt truth of life on Mars. It’s a dead planet. It is a squirrelly little planet.

The lungs like pressure. The 14.69 psi at sea level on Earth is lousy as well. This is probably why few hear of scientists speaking in detail about rushing to Mars. You bring up the topic of living conditions, barometric pressure, and actual mixture of gases, and you’ve stumbled into the doorway of quantum longevity. Everybody clams up. Eyes dart back and forth. They act as if Nixon’s ghost is in the corner of the room and they are not sure if you see it too.

The only reason why I pursued geophysics is for the sake of quantum longevity. It’s a secretive world like that of the alchemists of old. It’s worse than searching for Bigfoot. No one lets you know where they’re hunting.

But let’s forget Mars and think big. Let’s talk of other planets– living planets or planets that have a similar or better psi that we can built upon.

Manuel Alcubierre’s warp drive was considered proved in 2012 . . . but not perfected. Everybody is hung up on negative energy. That’s like an advancing army being overly concerned about its flanks. You’ve got the enemy by the nose– it is time to deliver the blow. It is time to push ahead with a president who wants to think big and even mentioned the potential of deep space exploration.

Without getting into the arguments of the actual verifiable speed of light in intergalactic space, let’s try to explain Alcubierre’s warp drive a little . Under conventional, that is to say, nuclear propulsion we could propel a spaceship just under the speed of light. There are a lot of problems here. One, it would take 4.3 light years to travel to Alpha Centauri, our nearest star. Worst is that the spaceship would acquire such mass that it would bend space around it. This would effect space-time. In other words, the spaceship would be moving within an entirely slower load, so to say. No one inside would be aware of it because everything is moving in sync within the load. So now we have a time warp.

This is what first confounded rocket scientists in the 1950s. It was a Catch 22. Speed was necessary to give us a chance to make other worlds, but said speed created a time warp. The result is that a round trip to Sirius, the original analogy used, would take 18 light years, but as far as the crew’s experience they had done it all around a day. They come back and find 18 years had passed on Earth. That throws a kink in deep space exploration.

How to overcome the speed of light? How to overcome the bending of space with such massive speeds?

Alcubierre’s warp drive did it. The spaceship really isn’t traveling.  . . . kinda. It is bending space. Space is traveling round the spaceship to some extent. The warp drive would cause space to wrinkle up behind the spacecraft like a wave in a carpet and stretch out in front. The potential is traveling in a secure warp bubble inside this warp of space. Potentially you could go many times the speed of light. This would open the galaxy to us in no time.


Artist’s conception of a spaceship built into the warp drive. 

The problem ultimately will probably be that warp bubble inside where the spaceship is.

It is time to put aside the idea of manning Mars with conventional space rubbish. It is time to prepare to make the jump into the galaxy at terrific warp speeds that maintain our own time continuum. Mars is something passed in a couple of minutes and the pilot can call our attention to it on our left. Aside from being a stop for a tour guide or a solar Antarctica where scientist spy on each other, I don’t see much value in setting up house. There certainly is little motivation and thus Congress just doesn’t let loose with the purse strings. . . . understandably. But for all the galaxy? For economic boom ad perpetuity? Yes!

Money must be poured into NASA and the various techs to perfect Alcubierre’s warp drive and stabilize it. Once perfected, remote probes can be designed with it and we can start sending them out to Alpha Centauri, Sirius, and especially to systems indicating planets are in orbit around their suns that could be similar to Earth. Then we go.

For this Congress will dish out the money. For this NASA will rush to perfect it. The gains are limitless. Employment never ending. The final frontier has arrived– and it is a never ending story.

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Since 1990 Gian J. Quasar has investigated a broad range of mysterious subjects, from strange disappearances to serial murders, earning in that time the unique distinction of being likened to “the real life Kolchak.” However, he is much more at home with being called The Quester or Q Man. “He’s bloody eccentric, an historian with no qualifications who sticks his nose into affairs and gets results.” He is the author of several books, one of which inspired a Resolution in Congress.

The New Imperialism– The Temple of Liberty

Since Donald J. Trump is now president and he likes to think big and wants to think big, I think it is time to start dusting off some old project ideas of mine just to bounce around on the web first. I think megalomania is a good thing. It is merely bringing to fruition the saying “think outside the box.” We live in such a shrunken world that we have made it our pastime and indeed our presumption to carp upon every word that comes out of another’s mouth. “As soon as one American opens his mouth he makes another American despise him,” to paraphrase Henry Higgins. We need to think big again and not devote our time to judging people for petty things.

Greece and great Rome are in ruins, and yet from their ruins they spoke to us. By the majesty of just the glimmer of what they once were they inspired us to rebuild. There came Renaissance. There came the Neo Classical. One day Washington DC will be ruins. It happens to every civilization. Every body, even the body politic, decays and dies and is remembered only by its bones.

One day this will be the only voice we have. The ruins of the once magnificent Temple of Venus and Rome.


For all the greatness that America has done, for all that this nation has achieved, we have built very little in stone. Monuments are a book in stone. Monuments are ideology  crystalized. But they last longer than the printed word. Through them we speak over the ages. Ancient Rome had 27 libraries, and yet most of the written word has perished, but the greatness of Roman ideas remained in the magnificence of marble.

The Madeleine– Just one example of how opulent an interior can be. Napoleon turned the church into the Temple of Glory, but it was changed back to a church after his fall. It is a replica of the Temple of Venus and Rome.


We have temples in Washington to men, but we do not have them to ideas. We have not written a book in marble and encrypted into it our virtues and ideals.

I propose a Temple of Liberty, of the Corinthian Order, larger than any temple hitherto built, modeled to some extent on the Temple of Venus and Rome, with the grace and grandeur of the Temple of Olympian Zeus in Athens.

The statue in this vaulted temple should be a colossal statue of walking Liberty, as seen on our old coins. Striding in marble, gold gild, brass, silver, painted cap of liberty and perhaps holding a gilded winged Victory. The base of the gigantic statue should carry the inscription:

Forever Conquering and Never Oppressing
Liberty on the March

The temple should become the center of all expressed ideas on liberty, an inspiration for all of what freedom and unity can build. It must become an incarnation of the very concept and duties of liberty.


A striding statue, Liberty moving forward. A giant golden half dome rising from the base, with spikes indicating the sun and its rays as Liberty marches on. Either a winged Victory in the one hand or just the bouquet embraced in the other.


We rebuilt the temple of Athena Parthenos and its cult statue in Nashville– but what does this say about us? Nothing. It is merely a copy. Time and money would be better spent to leave behind a memory of our own contribution to civilization. Imagine striding Liberty in marble and gold.

The pediments, of course, will be occupied by the appropriate statuary in symbolic juxtaposition– the awakening of liberty, the statue of Americana by her side, Prosperity, a cornucopia, etc. Various busts of those responsible for its building, etc, here and there along the sides and, of course, statues to those who prospered liberty in one way or another, both in the past and in the future.


The Pantheon in Rome remains to this day. Built by Hadrian, it carries the inscription of its original builder: “Marcus Agrippa, son of Lucius, built this in his third consulate.”

Bas reliefs would depict symbolic and past historical events– independence, emancipation, victory. Perhaps a painted vaulted ceiling. Statues. Flags. Emblems. Bronze candelabra along giant columns. Great events of state can be held here. Educational events can be held inside, with set up chair arrangements.

There is no end to the good uses such a three dimensional book to liberty can be put.

Washington DC has many grassy sweeps and promenades devoted to little more than free roaming cats. Some of this space is better used, I think, to writing in stone some of the best achievements of our society– to remind those who come after us what once was and to give them hope that after it is lost they too can achieve it again.

This is our future:


We must choose wisely what to leave behind.

Reworking the Flannan Isles’ Mystery

People seem to minimize a disappearance at sea. It’s a big ocean. Ships are relatively small by comparison. Deserted ships strike more of a chord of mystery with us. But then there are deserted islands where there should be people. This is unusual. Two of the most bizarre mysteries involve lighthouses.  The most famous is the Flannan Isles’ mystery where the 3 lighthouse keepers vanished.

The lighthouse was situated atop windswept and lonely Eilean  Mor, the largest pebble of 7 islands known as the 7 Hunters in the outer Hebrides off the west coast of Scotland. On December 26, 1900, the lighthouse was found to be deserted by the replacement member who had rowed ashore to find where the men were. The launch had been expected. He was scheduled to relieve one of the men. But none of them had showed at the landing area. So the crew of the boat that brought him remained aboard and he took the boat and rowed to shore.

The tall, steep cliffs were lifeless except for sea birds mewing and cawing. The wood box that contained rope and tackle at the foot of the large crane (that lifted supplies) was washed away and rope was lodged into the crags, jammed in by a high and tempestuous sea. A large boulder had fallen from the tall cliff overhead and lay cracked nearby.

He mounted the steep stairs and walked up to the whitewashed lighthouse complex. Wind howled around the windows and door. Not a soul answered his calls. Inside he found that there was a half eaten meal on the kitchen table. One of the chairs was knocked over and laying on its back. Where the oilskins were mounted on pegs, there was only was set remaining. The clock had stopped. There was a half starved canary in its cage.


The boatmen came ashore to help him search. But no one ever found a trace of the three men.

This is the mystery of Flannan Isles.

The clues proved a sequence but not a solution. Apparently from reports the light had not been working for 11 days by the time the replacement arrived on the 26th. So whatever happened had happened on the 15th of December. This was the day before the storm that hit the area.

What could have happened on this day? Let’s look at the sequence of clues.

Company rules required that the lighthouse never be unattended. One man must always be inside the lighthouse. Two oilskins were gone. So it is obvious 2 of the men were outside on a blustery December 15th. Something had happened that took them from mealtime. Whatever it was, it was within sight or sound of the third man. Something happened. It was something he could detect from the window of the kitchen where they ate at the small wood table. He rushed out, leaving behind his oilskins. The three never returned.

Unfortunately, I do not know what the line of sight is from the kitchen window. Perhaps he saw his mates floating out to sea. He rushed out knowing he’d have to tie one end of the rope at the bottom of the crane around himself and the other around the base of the crane and swim out to get them. Alas, he drowned or the rope broke and all 3 drowned together. The storm came and because the wood box was open and not secured the waves washed it away and destroyed the evidence.

Or was it something else?


Whatever happened must have been alarming for the third man to rush out without his slicker on. He must have thought he would not be long . . .or it was too frightening not to care.  But the clues give us a logical sequence within the lighthouse. We simply do not know what motivated the first two to don their oilskins and go outside. But something happened that then prompted the third to double time it to their rescue or aid. It happened during the day. The beds had not been disturbed.

The mystery remains, but the idea that the clues in the lighthouse indicate another sequence is highly unlikely. A spy boat did not pull up and grab the men, nor did aliens from the Pleiades. Nor does it seem that one man was wandering causally around in such cold weather without his oilskins and the other two dressed and went looking for him. The clues indicate at least one man was startled at mealtime and went outside quickly. He is most likely the man who did not put on his oilskins.

Yet what happened on the day before the storm? What could the third man inside have seen or heard from the angle of the kitchen to have bolted outside, violating company rules and risking freezing?

*         *          *

Since 1990 Gian J. Quasar has investigated a broad range of mysterious subjects, from strange disappearances to serial murders, earning in that time the unique distinction of being likened to “the real life Kolchak.” However, he is much more at home with being called The Quester or Q Man. “He’s bloody eccentric, an historian with no qualifications who sticks his nose into affairs and gets results.” He is the author of several books, one of which inspired a Resolution in Congress.

D.B. or Dan Cooper– the Logistics of Being a Skyjacker

Things are hotting up in the search for D.B. Cooper. My theory, as you know, is that Cooper came from the Portland area already. Here he boarded the Boeing jetliner on Thanksgiving Eve 1971 and headed to Seattle on the “milk run.” To this place he returned after he made his daredevil jump with $200,000 clams. I like my theory. This fits my POI’s residence. Much in my POI’s background fits the profile. For example, he was a Navy AKAN in Korea.

However, attention has been drawn recently to the theory that D.B. Cooper, the alias for the infamous and still-mysterious skyjacker, worked at Boeing in the Seattle area. An examination of the clip-on tie he left behind before jumping into mystery over the forests of Washington reveals particles that indicate he worked at Boeing. These particles are: “cerium, strontium sulfide and pure titanium.” Citizen Sleuths, the organization that examined the tie, asserts this strongly suggests contamination from a Boeing development area.


A Seattle based D.B. Cooper would make sense, but without an accomplice it is hard to imagine success. The scenario would be: he was driven to Portland by an accomplice, caught the plane, committed the skyjacking, then jumped back near Portland into the forests and there somehow met his accomplice. Remember, this was a windswept, stormy night. If doing this on his own, he had left his car somewhere in southern Washington . . . but how did he get to the airport from the rural areas of southern Washington?  In any case, he was driven back to Seattle or drove himself.

Like all theories, it is easy, but logistics is difficult. How to pull something like this off successfully?

At the time (November 1971 and soon thereafter) rumors circulated around the little hamlet of La Center, Washington. These rumors even found place in the 1979 episode of In Search of . . . in which Leonard Nimoy cautioned they were “highly questionable.” These rumors spoke of an unidentified light plane that frequently made landings in a field nearby at night and there awaiting it was a car. The implication was that these were dry runs between Cooper and his accomplice. The implication again was that the car would get Cooper after he landed and bring him to the field and plane and then it would take off with him and the ransom money.  . .or a fraction of it.

La Center’s main street, circa 1979


A bit complex. The other accomplice, presumably, drives away in the car.

It is a fact that no one knows what happened to D.B. Cooper. No trace was ever found of him and it took 9 years to even locate a fraction of the ransom money. It had floated for some time in the Columbia River and been beached in a storm at Tina Bar. There $5,800 bucks worth of the $2oo,000 was found in 1980 by a kid raking sand to make a campfire.

For the Feds, especially for the lead investigator Ralph Himmelsbach, this was proof that Cooper splattered when he had jumped. He hadn’t survived. Himmelsbach had a low opinion of Cooper. He didn’t like the popular treatment of him as some kind of “Jesse James of the Jet Age.” He was a desperado, a goober who never could have survived the jump.

placardBut it is a fact that nothing else was ever found. No red parachute, no clothes, no briefcase, no bones. In 1978 Carroll Hicks while hunting 13 miles from Castle Rock, Washington, discovered the plastic warning placard that had been ripped from the inside door of the Boeing 727 when the aft stairs had been lowered. It was possible to find even such a small, delicate item as this. Following the drift of the Columbia River, it seemed Cooper must have splattered in the Washougal Valley area, but no trace has ever come of the parachute or anything else. Moreover, wind estimates don’t allow for Cooper to have made it that far by drift from the path of the airliner.

The location of a fraction of the ransom money has only added to the mystery of D.B. Cooper. But the greater mystery comes from he dragnet. This was world news. Nationally both in Canada and the US the sketch representing D.B. Cooper was plastered everywhere. Yet no one recognized him. He had a unique, long face with slender nose. He was middle age. No one recognized him? No neighbor, relative, friend. What’s more, no one went on the Doe list. No one was reported missing. No one failed to show at a motel, back at home, no abandoned car was found whose owner matched the FBI sketch.


The only conclusion was not a palatable one– the mysterious man calling himself Dan Cooper had survived and returned to his normal life. There was no one to report missing.

But after 1980 it seemed certain he was dead because the money indicated he splattered and eventually it had drifted into the Columbia River. Yet if he was truly dead, how to explain no one was ever reported missing?

Until the 21st century the FBI held to Himmelsbach’s views that Cooper was a dead deadbeat. One of the Feds in charge of the case then wasn’t so sure. He thought Cooper had survived.

It is indeed impossible to explain all the clues and sew them together into one coherent theory. The material on the tie Cooper left behind is another clue. But had Cooper died in the drop, everybody at Boeing would have noticed a coworker missing, especially if the sketch was remotely accurate. No one at Boeing reported a missing man. So, did Cooper survive and return to work, thus allaying any suspicions?

More and more it seems the only theories that can work are those that accept that “Jesse James of the Jet Age” had survived. Why then the money on Tina Bar? Why was no dime of it ever spent elsewhere?

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Since 1990 Gian J. Quasar has investigated a broad range of mysterious subjects, from strange disappearances to serial murders, earning in that time the unique distinction of being likened to “the real life Kolchak.” However, he is much more at home with being called The Quester or Q Man. “He’s bloody eccentric, an historian with no qualifications who sticks his nose into affairs and gets results.” He is the author of several books, one of which inspired a Resolution in Congress.

Boots on the Ground — Slugging After EAR/ONS

As you all know, I have made it plain that EAR/ONS is a fairly transparent investigation on my part. With ZODIAC I have kept much close to the vest out of necessity. The web section on the ZODIAC on Q Files is for historical purposes.  For EAR/ONS, it is to usher in the solution. However, I do not mention the details of any private conversations I have had with people or with law enforcement.  If it is relevant I will mention only that I had such a conversation (only with LE). Here in this post, let’s talk about some backdoor pursuit to uncovering EAR.

POI seen on Bourbon Street, near Del Campo Park in November 1976.


I believe he did drugs. How much I do not know. It has been difficult to track my prime POI’s activities during much of EAR’s crime spree. He was certainly indulged during those times. He had those contacts I sought and those which brought me too him. But his schedule at this time is not too detailed. He emerges into the records in 1989, as I have reported, and his occupation does not indicate he was gainfully employed in his late teens into his 20s.

I don’t want to believe that EAR/ONS actually wrote that lousy poem “Excitement’s Crave”, but here  is a verse that is interesting:



Achieving while others lifting
Should be cause for deserving fame.
Leisure tempts excitement seeking,
What’s right and expected seems tame.

Leisure tempts. . .  indeed. My guy might have had more leisure than I can uncover, and indeed EAR may have had more than we realize. He certainly devoted a huge amount of time to stalking his game, so to speak.

If he had leisure, how much money did he have? My POI was from an indulged background, but I could not say wealthy  . . . unless he inherited from a grandparent some stash that kept him going on a part time job basis during youth but then it petered out.  Even a $50,000 dollar inheritance back then would have been a big deal.

But I digress.

I think EAR did drugs. Thus he had a dealer. Many of you know where I am going. In the East Area, dealing was concentrated at Del Campo Park, one of the main stalking hubs EAR used. It was also done in Del Dayo.


Boots on the ground investigating has a shot at a backdoor approach to EAR’s identity. Contact the known dealers who are still alive. There is more than one. They were young guys. It was a high school thing. The old guard of sheriffs and Sac PD can remember who they were. One name is well known within EAR circles. Sadly, the name was pursued only as a possible suspect instead of a possible and innocent link.

Rio Americano High and San Juan High dopers (in those days) might be a better link to pursue. Shove some of the old composites (those with the long face) before them and even if 60 years old they might remember one customer who fits the bill.

Many routes must be pursued. We all know it comes down to DNA. Once again, for me this means hand writing matching the prime POI. It could also mean an old dealer fingering him or some other guy as a suspect.

It is time to inspire in this direction . . .

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Since 1990 Gian J. Quasar has investigated a broad range of mysterious subjects, from strange disappearances to serial murders, earning in that time the unique distinction of being likened to “the real life Kolchak.” However, he is much more at home with being called The Quester. “He’s bloody eccentric, an historian with no qualifications who sticks his nose into affairs and gets results.” He is the author of several books, one of which inspired a Resolution in Congress.